Out with the Old

New Year's Eve is upon us and I'm ready for a new calendar year, how about you? 2011 brought more than it's share of family-related drama and I, for one, am crossing fingers for a much quieter 2012.

Each year I make the same resolution -- to be more patient. I will say that over time, I've gotten better. But that might just be a maturation, aging-related change! What about you, any resolutions?

Re: The Plan (www.neighborhoodholistic.org), up until this week I was sticking with the general eating guidelines. I veered WAY off course this week -- just too many leftovers around the house (I hate waste). So, I'll jump back on the bandwagon after tomorrow. It really has made a consistent difference in my weight.

For all of you out there, best wishes for the happiest of new years. Sending hopes for peace and health. 

In 2012, let's all choose happy.

Tis the Season

Friends,

I sit here, in my bed, alone (the Mr. is traveling with his kids this week) and wee bit tipsy (blame Costco and the Bailey's Irish Cream at the front door!), so very grateful for all that enriches my life. My sons, my amazing husband, my friends and family, and the vast history of experience that inhabit me. My job, our relative financial security and the good health and happiness I get to enjoy every day.

As I prepare to serve chili, sub sandwiches, spiked cider and cookies to many of my nearest and dearest local friends and family, I want to take this moment to say "Thank you" for being in my life.

From the most sincere and loving place in my heart --

J.

holiday hustle

The past few weeks have been beyond busy. Since the surreal (but wonderfully relaxing) Thanksgiving, both of my cars have been totaled. Happily, all people are fine, but the cars are kaput. One was an older minivan my kids drove, the other was my nicer and newer sedan. Both are gone, baby, gone. So, I've been playing phone tag with various insurance agents, testing new vehicles and girding to lay out some big bucks for new rides. Oy. Not surprisingly, the Mr. has been supportive and wonderful in helping me coordinate all the various moving parts.

And, tensions are running high as we wait for college acceptances. So far, one boy is 2/5, the other has one bird in the hand and is awaiting word from several others.

Winter break is around the corner - yeehaw. Taking my guys skiing/snowboarding for what I hope will be some real quality time together. Yes, I'll miss the Mr., but it's important for me and my dudes to share some alone time, too (plus, the Mr. doesn't ski).

If I don't get back to the blog before the holidays hit, best wishes to everyone! Hope you find lots of happy this season.

Just call me Eeyore

That's right, the gloomy, down-trodden donkey best describes me these past few days. After a wonderfully restful and thoroughly enjoyable Thanksgiving holiday, I came home to an avalanche of crap. Sorry to be so crass, but there's no other way to put it.

Upside, the anxiety has resulted in a few extra lost lbs. And yes, the kids are fine. But between the lousy weather, a car wreck (again, all are ok) and general nastiness, lies and negativity being hurled around and about me by my own personal Voldemort, we're otherwise healthy and lovable.

Trying to go with the flow but not doing too well. Fingers crossed that karma will work it's magic quickly and that tomorrow will be a happier day.

My 'Plan' for Thanksgiving

Three weeks after starting on Lyn-Genet Recitas' "The Plan," I am seven pounds lighter. I haven't had a slice of bread or any dairy in that time, and ate red meat only once. It's been primarily veggies, veggies and seafood.

BUT, I've enjoyed dark chocolate, vino, goat cheese and feta (love my cheeses!). And I haven't had to exercise like a maniac to see progress.

All in all, I'd say that 'The Plan' is a way of eating that I can stick to. Sure, I miss enjoying the savory chili with cheese my family had for dinner last night, but I don't miss the depressing flab that gathered around my middle. I'd love to indulge in a big ol' bowl of mashed potatoes, but I also love being able to easily button my jeans and once again wear clothes that had been gathering dust in my closet.

So, with Thanksgiving upon us, I am thankful for learning how to eat to manage my weight at this point in life. I am so thankful for my wonderful Mr., my beautiful boys and my stepkids. My friends, of course, and my supportive, loving family. I am endlessly grateful that those nearest and dearest to me are healthy and financially secure.

And to those of you who read my blog, thank you. It's so nice knowing that you're out there.

Taking off for a few days, so until next time ... choose happy.

Designer Duds and Diet Dilemmas

I love the idea of a great bargain. So, whenever I hear about one of those discount designer shopping websites, I sign up. Everyday, Designer Apparel.com (www.designerapparel.com) sends me alerts about beautiful clothes and accessories that are marked down. But here's the thing, I have no idea how I would actually look in any of these clothes. I don't try on designer apparel at the store which I suppose would be pretty critical to knowing what size I should order and whether or not I even like how the designer's clothes look on me.

Maybe it's just the idea that those things are somehow within reach. Thoughts?

Re: The Plan, I'm still sticking with it. I've hit a pretty significant plateau and am thinking it might be time to just induge in a big ol' plate of nachos and throw back a few beers. One day at a time....

Until next time, choose happy.

The Food Burglars

For a change, this post is not about me and my issues/struggles with food. Nope, it's about how, after a nutritionally balanced and usually hearty meal, the five boys (plus one lovable husband) in my house still gorge themselves on evening chow.

Example: last night's dinner was poached chicken on pasta with parmesan and roasted butternut squash. We finished eating at about 7:30ish. I came downstairs this morning and found:

- 2 empty salsa jars in recycling
- 1 empty bag of corn chips
- empty cookie jar (had just been re-filled with an entire box)
- empty 1/2 gallon ice cream container

And that's just the stuff that made it to the garbage/recycling. I'm afraid to see what got left behind in the basement.

However, I can report that the Honey Crisp apples, cut-up strawberries and baby carrots were exactly where I left them. :)

So it goes, and we choose happy.....

A brief pause

After another raucus dinner (pulled pork - yum), I needed to get away from my 6 men. I asked for 15 minutes to myself. Within 5 minutes there was a knock at the door.

Son: Mom, Mom are you in there?
Me: no answer
Son: Mom are you in there? Can you just answer a quick question?
Me: Yes.
Son: Do ketchup and mustard mixed together make relish?

My answer was "No" but what I was thinking was "Are you kidding me?"

Ah, parenthood.

Plateaus

It's been a few days so a quick update on The Plan (www.neighborhoodholistic.com) and my experience after 14 days ...

The good news is, I've definitely lost about 5 pounds. The not as great news is that it's the same 5 pounds I lost during week 1. Per Lyn-Genet, it's not uncommon to plateau during week 2 but it sure makes it a helluva lot harder to stay on the plan. That said, having to report in daily with weight and questions makes it hard to cheat; I feel very accountable. This coming week I start my own menu planning. Crossing fingers that a few more lbs. will drop off.

Otherwise, it's been a week of bouncing back from a whole lot of upset & drama. I think I've hit my annual limit for taking s***. I'd like to say that I managed my emotions with grace, but that would be a whopper of a lie. I blew my stack, cried, sulked and even did a little stomping. A GNO (girls' night out) last night helped blow off the residual ickyness.  And today I sent chocolate chip cookies to my big boy at college; that made me feel better somehow.

More to come .... stay happy.

Thud

That big noise you just heard may be me falling off of The Plan wagon. After a listless workout this morning, I feel thisclose to wolfing down a big ol' turkey with cheese on sourdough. Ohhhh..... just writing it is making my mouth water.

I'm trying to hold steady, though. Please send willpower my way!

Balancing and the Scale

Those of you near NY's Harlem, I envy you.  You have access to Lyn-Genet Recita's Neighborhood Holistic health center (www.neighborhoodholistic.com). Recita's eating program, The Plan, has been amazing thus far. I've lost 5.5 pounds in one week without feeling deprived. I could comfortably socialize -- yes, I drank wine! -- and order off the menu at an Italian restaurant. Brilliance!


I have to say that it's been a long time since I've felt sexy, but having that weight come off, without extra workouts, has been a huge boost. Yes, I eat a lot of greens, but tonight's dinner also included chicken breast and butternut squash with butter and cinnamon. Tasty. It's a relief to actually know what foods I can enjoy without bloating up.


In other news, trying to find the balance between my needs and those of the ones I love. Quality relationships are hard to find, nurturing them takes work. 


Until next time, choose happy.

Am I Having a Mid-Life Crisis?

Laying in bed last night, I realized that in the past several months I have:
- lightened my hair twice
- straightened my hair
- flipped repeated through Allure magazine to find out the best anti-aging products
- started using Latisse (www.latisse.com) to enhance my eyelashes
- considered a breast lift
- ruminated about the possibility of chucking my career to attempt writing full-time
- dedicated myself to The Plan to drop unwanted extra lbs.

If I were a guy and had created a similar list, the only thing missing would be a new sports car -- clear signs of the much-maligned mid-life crisis.

This attention to how I look is a recent evolution for me; I was always the woman wearing sweat pants and no makeup. Of course, I'd gussy up to go out, but I could pretty much get away with little attention to face and hair for a long time. No longer.

I'm still sorting out how I feel about all of this -- is it just a normal progression that comes with aging? Late-blooming vanity run amuck? Much ado about nothing?

Re: the Plan, all is well. Switched things up a little with meals but it didn't seem to impact my weight LOSS! Even snuck in a few sips of red wine last night. It's sooo nice to really fit into my jeans. Five days, nearly 5 pounds - I'll take it!

Onward and downward

Hallelujah! The scale moved and in the right direction for a change! Added chicken for dinner last night and got rice with goat cheese the night before, so it's no longer totally a bird food diet. Lyn-Genet and her able assistant Maggie are wonderfully responsive to questions, which is greatly appreciated. The Mr. said I look slimmer; I can't really see it but I do love that he said it. He's a smart man.

In other news ... one of my high school senior sons is flip-flopping like a hotcake on the griddle re: what kind of colleges he wants to apply to. It's exhausting and I'm trying to take a big step back and let him guide this ship from here on out.

Had a little chat with my stepson David who, as you may recall, is very social but doesn't really understand the boundaries of privacy. Complicated, because (despite this blog) I'm a pretty private person. David will tell anyone and everyone what's happening in our home -- when we go out, medical issues, new purchases, what I'm making for dinner. It's disconcerting when people I don't know repeat things about my life that they've learned through David. So, I told David that what happens in our home is only for those who live in it to know about. Fingers crossed that he "gets" it.

Until tomorrow, choose happy.

Day 2

Second day on The Plan started with a whimper. My weight was a little up. When I reported in to Lyn-Genet (www.lyn-genet.com), she asked if I'd had enough water on day 1. Wow, can she call it. I was, in fact, a little shy of my recommended water intake. Per Lyn-Genet, for every two glasses of water you don't drink, you hold onto 1/2 pound of weight.  So, in addition to following The Plan for day 2 (although I did eat an extra 1/2 apple for snack), I pounded the water. We'll see what tomorrow brings.

More college apps sent today and the stress levels are starting to recede, thankfully. A few more to go and then we sit and wait for acceptance letters. Cuz that won't be stressful at all.

Until tomorrow, choose happy.

Happy Halloween - no candy for you!

I am truly a masochist, starting The Plan on Halloween - ug. That said, I followed my day #1 menu to the letter, nibbling on bits of kale and broccoli, munching on pumpkin seeds and granola. It was a long day so I did feel a little hungry before dinner but that may have been because I was preparing a killer meal for the rest of the family. Again, I must be a masochist.

Checking in tomorrow with Lyn Genet so those pounds better start melting off in the night cuz right now I am one bloated babe.

Otherwise, a beautiful fall day. My younger dudes and I had a great weekend visiting with my oldest at college. Amazing how much he's matured and I am so very proud of the choices he's making. Started sending in college applications for the twins - Hallelujah! The little dude went trick or treating and came home with candy for everyone. David has been busy walking into town, ping-ponging between the library and his favorite little eatery. My sophomore stepson is in a good place :) for which the Mr. and I are very grateful.

Enjoy those Halloween treats! More tomorrow.

Congrats to me!

After taking my temp for three consecutive days and sending the info to Lyn Genet, she congratulated me on my wonderful thyroid. Yea for me! If only I had anything to do with it.

So, I'm ready, set, go with The Plan starting next Monday (road trip to visit #1 son in college this weekend). My flax granola is standing by and I'm heading to the grocery store after work to pick up other recipe essentials -- kale, carrots, assorted veggies, seeds and beets. Hmm, isn't this Bugs Bunny's diet?

I'm supposed to be in daily touch with Lyn Genet once things get underway, so stay tuned ....

Otherwise, rainy fall day matches my generally drippy frame of mind. Is it Friday yet?

First steps on The Plan

After my chat last week with The Plan "founder" Lyn Genet Recitas (http://www.neighborhoodholistic.com/) I was ready to get things started pronto. So I was a little disappointed not to receive the follow-up info she'd promised right away. That said, I e-mailed her wonderful assistant Maggie on Friday and today my in box had the info I was waiting for. Now I can get started; Lyn Genet asked to learn my basal body temp for three mornings in a row. Not entirely clear how, but from those readings she can tell if your thyroid is hyper or hypo and make appropriate dietary adjustments and/or recommendations.

All else in our world is quiet this weekend. The fall colors are so amazing they almost look artificial. Mother Nature is one creative gal.

Enjoy the week!

The Plan, The Diet, The Hopes

I'm a subscriber to More magazine (http://www.more.com/), the only publication I've found thus far targeted to women over 40 who have more to worry about than the next "It" bag, "It" girl or how the latest secrets to "Best Sex Ever" -- although More certainly provides sound fashion advice and pointers for success in the bedroom.

Earlier this year, More ran a profile on Lyn Genet Recitas ( http://www.more.com/weight-loss-diet-recitas) who developed "The Plan" for nutrition and weight loss.  Frustrated with the stubborn creep of pounds and my inability to lose them, I signed up for a consult with Lyn Genet. Today, The Plan gets underway.

So, for the next few weeks, much of my blog content will be dedicated to updates re: my success on and with The Plan. Fingers crossed that I get to reclaim my slimmer self while still enjoying my much-needed vino and dark chocolate (Lyn Genet said potato chips are better than rice cakes and to pick chocolate over dates! I love this woman!)

Otherwise, all is well in my part of town. College application deadlines loom for my two high school seniors, my oldest has had some recent academic and personal successes, and my little dude continues to entertain me. The Mr. is good but struggling with issues related to work and kids, and my Ex has found yet another way to make my head spin. So it goes....

Until next time, choose happy.

Winter Prep by the Pound

Nature is truly an amazing thing. It brings us these gorgeous fall days, when brilliant blue skies highlight the golden, crimson and purple leaves. It allows our bodies to make and nurture babies.

And, somehow, it flips a genetic switch -- passed down through millenia -- that it's time for us to bulk up for the colder weather, as the harvest soon will be gone.

Bummer that the harvest, or grocery store as I refer to it, is just two blocks away even in the dead of winter, so all these unwanted pounds to stave off starvation are useless. Unless, it's nature's way of allowing me to single-handedly spur the economy through the purchase of larger-sized jeans. Hmmm.....

Irony, defined

I am always reminding my boys to brush and floss their teeth. "You only get one body," I say, "You'd better take care of it."

So, how ironic that out of everyone in my family, I am the first -- and only -- to have a permanent tooth pulled (due to untreatable damage below the gumline). The hole is nearly front and center, and if I don't have the fake tooth in place, I look like I walked out of coal mining town where the Mountain Dew flows like water.

I am grateful that I could get the work done, but it's hard to feel pretty with fake teeth. Bummer.

Napkins?

The other night at dinner, one of the boys wiped his hand on his t-shirt. I said, "Dude, use your napkin." The offending teenage picked up his napkin, wiped off his t-shirt and got back to eating.

A losing battle....

It's all good....

Happy news update -- last night, apropos of nothing, my little dude (okay, he's 13 but he's still my baby) said to the Mr., "You're the best step-dad in the whole world."

Granted my son has no basis for comparison, but I don't care. Mommy is happy :)

Directionally Challenged

It just seems right and fair that as you near your middle-age years, life should start making sense. And yet, while I recognize that I know more than I used to, I'm still shocked and awed by how little I really do know.

For example, what do I want to be when I "grow up?" In theory, I am a grown up. I generally like my job. But when I talk to friends and peers about the future, we all agree that finding our passion eludes us. Perhaps Oprah and More magazine have set the bar too high. I don't want to ditch it all to start baking cupcakes or run to a small, impoverished African nation and start an NGO, but there must be something bigger - right?

And what's with acne in your 40s? I thought that was supposed to end after the awkward teen years. In between examing my face for outbreaks and wrinkles, I hear my Aunt's voice in the back of my head warning of impending chin hair.

I'm trying to go with the flow; the path is just so unclear!

Stay happy....

Cycling

Just 48 hours ago, I was cranking up the air conditioner, and today, all of the house windows are open and it's 20 degrees cooler outside. Already, a few stray leaves are changing color. Fall is upon us.

As the seasons cycle through, I find myself cycling through different moods, different levels of acceptance. Some days are great and the natural hum or the household brings me total joy. Other days are a struggle and it all feels like a fight to get it even nominally in sync. The ebb and flow of family life, I guess.

My oldest is back at college and he is missed. I've got two boys who are high school seniors so the college hunt is intense. My sophomore stepson is off to a good start this school year; I am grateful. My little dude, now in 8th grade, is picking up all of the teenage attitude that I've come to know so well.

Married life is good. Like all parts, there are highs and then those other, less-connected times. But I am lucky to have the Mr. and I'm pretty sure he still feels the same.

Until next time, flow with the seasons and choose happy.

Summer's End

It's a rainy day and school starts tomorrow for my three high-school age boys. College-age son heads back to school on Sunday and my little guy starts 8th grade next Monday. So summer is coming to an end -- camp, summer jobs, sleeping in late, watching too many reruns of "Simpsons" -- nearly over.

As much as I'm looking forward to getting everyone back on some sort of routine, it's a bummer. Right now, as I work in my office, I can hear three of my guys laughing together in the kitchen. It's a sweet sound. One guy is in the basement, yelling at a video game. The others are out and about until it's time to be fed again -- yes, we go through a LOT of food.

Somehow, they all got another year older. Mind-boggling.

So, for one more summer day, choose happy.

And ... She's Back

Hello out there. It's been a few weeks. Lots of frantic family matters that needed attending to immediately after the big high school reunion. Happily, nothing life-threatening and things are falling back into place.

The reunion: I was definitely questioning why I was even going, but I'm glad that I did. It was really wonderful to see people from way back, although in retrospect, the night was a little like speed-dating: Hi. How are you? Where do you live? Married? Kids? Work? You look great. Take care. Everyone looked great and seemed happy. But then again, would the folks who don't look so great and aren't so happy going to come to a reunion? Hmmmm.

More transitions in the air as my oldest gets ready to go back to college (waah) and the other boys prepare for school. I like the normalcy of routine.

In a funky mood the past few days for a number of reasons. More to come on that....

Until then, try to choose happy. I will, too.

Reunion download

Just got home from the high school reunion and let me say, if you're not sure about attending your own reunion -- GO! It was so great to see people as adults. All of the old cliques and groupings fell away and we all talked as equals. I'm still processing all of the action but it was well worth the long road trip.

More to come, but reconnecting with old friends makes it easy to choose happy.

We're going back in time...

Reunion weekend is upon me and I have to admit, I'm really nervous/excited. Just pulled out the old yearbook and it's crazy how hard it is to remember some of these people who populated my teen years. I mean, my world revolved around these classmates and now if someone wants to Facebook friend me I have to look up who he/she is - I just don't remember!

Maybe it's because I moved away from my hometown, so I don't encounter former classmates. Or, it could be that just a whole lot of years have passed.

Either way, my bags are packed and I'm ready to go. Have a great weekend and choose happy.

Bye Bye July

Whoosh, where is the summer going? So much happening....

1. Recently spent some quality time with my mom, who had hip replacement in April. She's had a number of problems with the hip and we ended up in the ER this past weekend. She's fine, but this situation is opening the door to a number of concerns and considerations re: her health. It also provided the Mr. with an opportunity to use this line: "Did you hear about her mom's hip? First they popped it back in and then they shook it all around." Hokey pokey references, ug. ** Props to Southside Hospital ER in Long Island; they were amazing.

2. I asked the fellow I work out with for 30 min./once per week if I could lose 10 pounds and four inches. He said, "Sure, by October." I said, "Nope, by Friday." It's high school reunion time. Stories and details to come!

3. Tonight I celebrate the 20th birthday of my oldest baby boy. For dinner he's requested chips & salsa, sushi and mint chocolate chip ice cream cake. Oh, to eat like that again.

4. The other boys are keeping us on our toes. Two still at camp, four now home. Still working through issues with one son but fingers crossed that we're inching closer together. David has made friends with most retailers in town, the librarians and a few public safety officers (yes, there's a story there).

Enjoy the rest of July and choose happy.

The Cool Mom

I'm pleased to report that despite the sweltering heat blanketing much of the nation, my oldest son's friends have decided that I am a "cool" mom. Who among us doesn't want to be the cool parent? It's not because I let them party or otherwise do inappropriate stuff at my house. I think it's because a) I always have good food around and welcome them to serve themselves (which they do!), b) because I let them know how much I appreciate it when they clean up after themselves, and c) because I talk to them, find out what they're interested in but don't try to be their friend, just an interested adult.

With all of the work and struggle that goes into parenting, these brief moments when you get kudos from your kids make it all feel good.

So stay cool, and choose happy.

Surprise!!!

Just had the great honor and pleasure of attending a surprise party for my sweet dear friend in Philly. She's a former neighbor whose move away several years ago hit me hard.

Her hubby threw her a lovely party -- great food, great friends and a beautiful setting, their elegant backyard. She was totally surprised and was in happy tears for the first hour of the evening.

That said, I don't think I'm surprise party material. I don't have the grace to pull myself together when surprised at seeing the faces of my most special and loved friends and family. So to my own sweet Mr., no surprises, please.

Stay happy!

On the Road...

I'm college-searching with one of my 17-year-old sons, EJ, and it's been an anxious time for me. EJ has been particularly upset/angry with me for months, still pissed that I got engaged, married and moved him into a new home with a new family. I get it; it's tough when you're a strong-minded, change-averse young person and change happens without your ok.

Put the need to start thinking about college on top of that and you have mom-directed anger in buckets. I've been really concerned that EJ would continue stiff-arming me throughout this trip, upending me efforts to get close and repair the damage in our relationship.

So this morning, as he lay sleeping in our HoJos motel room (conveniently located across the street from Dunkin' Donuts and next to a Perkins), I meditated. I used to turn to meditation quite often, but as life smoothed out, my need for it fell away.

It was difficult to stay focused, but I finally got "there" and it really did help soothe my mind.

I have a feeling I'll be doing a lot of meditation for the next few days!

Stay happy.

The Funnies

Stuff that makes me chuckle --

1. David, my 23-year-old developmentally disabled stepson called the other night with "good news." He told me and the Mr. that he's going to work at Hooters. Now David has a very real, age-appropriate, appreciation for ladies with enhanced "assets" which he expresses as only he can -- imagine a non-threatening leer, big eyes and innocent smile (kind of like how I feel about chocolate!) The thought of him working there made me and the Mr. nearly cry with laughter. In truth, David got an employment application but aint' no way he's going to work there!

2. Sighting while getting my hair colored this morning -- a 50-something "stylist" wearing a tube top, pleather jacket and harem pants. Interesting combo.

A tisket, a tasket, that darned basket

How many times are we told not to put our eggs all in one basket? But when it comes to loving your kids, how can you help but be all in? Loving them a little is like being a little pregnant - just doesn't happen. You might not like them all the time, but loving them? I don't think that stops.

So I'm having a particularly difficult time with the fact that one of my teenage sons is quite angry with me. I didn't do anything deliberately mean to him, but in his worldview, he deserves to be cold and withdrawn from me. As a parent, I know I'm supposed to rise above his anger and remain loving, patient, etc. As a person, it's difficult to stay open to someone who's so committed to his angry resolve.

Any suggestions?

Seeking meaning...

So half-way through the day, I realized that I had my yoga pants on backward. I remedied the situation immediately but here's the interesting thing -- it's not like my pants were baggy in the front from having been worn on my backside.

Does that mean my butt is as big as my belly? Bummer....

Good for a giggle and one way to pick happy.

Weekend with the Stepsons

So the Mr. had to go out of town last week to take care of some business and I was in charge of my two stepsons who live with us. Developmentally disabled but socially-enabled David was busy making plans that would have kept me driving all over the place if I hadn't said, "Enough!" Happily, he agreed that perhaps staying home one night, eating pizza and watching one of his many movies would be ok.

As to my 15-year-old stepson, he needed to study for finals. You might recall that studying -- in fact anything related to school -- is not his favorite thing. In the past he's declared that homework isn't for him and that he doesn't need to study. I tried re-positioning it as a review session, but he's no dummy. My angst and anxiety at not getting him to adequately prepare for finals had me in knots, but he was totally chill.

Grades haven't come back yet so we don't know how he did yet, but he did mention that perhaps things would have been easier if he'd done the homework. Hallelujah, an itsy bitsy teeny weeny light at the end of the tunnel!

Bliss

Everyone home, everyone getting along, oldest son and his girlfriend baking cookies while my youngest looks on.

This is what happy feels like .... ahhh.

Sewing 101: Quilts and Patches

There's a saying that a mother's heart is a patchwork of love. I think it's supposed to mean that with each child who comes into our lives, we add another piece to the cloth of our hearts, binding it in place with love and devotion.

But maybe, just maybe, that old saying recognizes the many ways our children can tear away at our hearts, breaking the delicate but tight stitches that put that crazy quilt of love together in the first place. Maybe, it's about how we invest so much in our kids that when their actions rip the threads that bind them to us, it can physically hurt.

I know that patches can repair the rented fabric of relationships, but, sadly, the little holes left behind take a long time to close. This mothering thing is a tough gig.

As always, work on choosing happy.

Homefield Advantage - HAH!

Let me preface this by saying that if I sound angry, I am. The Mr.'s ex was in town last weekend, visiting her two kids who she chose not to have live with her. I know her reasons and I'm not saying they're bad or wrong, I'm just saying....

So this woman is on my territory, right? You'd think she'd be somewhat hesitant to come in my home. WRONG! Rather than prudently waiting in the car or even in the front hall, she came in the house twice and went upstairs. AARGH!!!

And what makes it worse is that this woman so aggravates me that I left my home so that I wouldn't have to interact with her. I ceded my territory. I'm supposed to have home field advantage but I left.

Why, you might wonder? Because if I had had to interact with her, I don't know that I could have been civil. And I didn't want to do that in front of my stepsons. Or, maybe my discomfort would make me be too nice, and I would have been really upset with myself for that.

Oh, I suppose I could be an adult, suck it up and behave nicely. I'm just not in the mood. Harumpf.

At least the sun is out....

Solutions Catalogue - rated R!

On behalf of my 17-year-old son who was flipping through the most recent issue of Solutions catalogue, let me just say "OMG!"

I probably receive the catalogue for the same reason my 83-year-old mother-in-law does, because we ordered the homely but durable Vista Stair Treads (pg. 29) for our wood steps. But wait, on page 51 -- just after page 49's "Subtle Butt" discreet odor neutralizers -- is a photographic display of female massagers. No kidding. Solutions' offerings have angles that make it easy to "reach the G-spot" and provide "pinpoint accuracy," not to mention models with illumination, suction and -- wait for it -- "throbber" mode with "truly amazing life-like feel." Why not just wrap the catalogue in brown paper?

Yes, huddled in the pages between facial hair removers, odor-eaters and support hose, we can purchase a pocket-sized, lipstick looking vibrator.

Some might say, "God Bless America!" But now I have to wonder if my mother-in-law is really only buying ugly carpet treads.

Solutions catalogue - making it easier to choose happy.

Mothering vs. Nurturing

With Mother's Day upon us, I've been pondering the differences between "mothering" and "nurturing."

In short, any woman who gives birth gains the right to call herself a Mother. And usually, mothering and nurturing go hand-in-hand -- but there are exceptions. Does Mother's Day celebrate us all equally?

There are plenty of women who aren't moms -- whether by choice or chance -- who are great nurturers. How do we celebrate them? How do we credit their investment of love, care and time?

Sometimes, what or who you're mothering isn't a person, it's a project or a calling that makes the world a better place, touches lives in a meaningful way or brightens the day of someone we don't even know.

To all who nurture and mother, best wishes for a wonderful day.

Happy May Day

T.S. Eliot had it right when he declared that "April is the cruelest month." I couldn't be happier to wave good-bye to that bad-boy of a month. Between the rough first family vacation, a downer of an anniversary, a bummer birthday "celebration," holidays that were anything but jolly, and rain that wouldn't go away, April was just plain crappy.

So, welcome May. It's sunny outside. The kids and I did some spring cleaning -- garage is no longer the dust-filled construction refuse site that it has been for so many months -- and things just feel lighter.

Hoping your spring is off to a good start.

Picking Sides

In the inevitable "us" versus "them" of family life, it never occurred to me that the "us" would one day be construed as me and my kids versus the "them" of the Mr. and his kids.  I suppose I naively assumed "us" = the parents, "them" =  the kids. Silly me.

I understand that as parents we are naturally protective and defensive of our offspring; I've had years to get used to my boys' quirks and know their inner workings like my own (sometimes better). Same goes for the Mr. -- he knows his kids and loves them for exactly who they are.

What's painful and surprising, though, is a recent episode where one of my kids and one of his were in conflict. Mine was annoyed by his and wanted me to engineer a quick fix. I spoke to the Mr., who rightly noted that my son tends to be a control freak and that no fix was needed. Fighters, take your corners.

There we were, us vs. them. I cannot tell you how sad it made me.

We are inching back toward being a team, but knowing that we've picked sides once before, I worry that it will happen again.

Until next time, let's choose happy.

Damn the torpedoes!

From my cozy home office, I can see into my front and back yards (still dirt due to renovations but that should be changing with the arrival of spring!). Above me, no sound. Below me, my stepson, yelling at a screen and playing "Call of Duty."

I don't play video games, although the boys in my home certainly do. There are dozens of them - games, not boys. No one, however, is addicted to gaming like my 15-year-old stepson. He rants, he screams, he swears. Most of the time I let him be, astounded at the energy he has for the games but for little else in his world. Occasionally, I'll ask him to tone it down. Sometimes it sounds like real violence is occurring down there. Every now and then he'll proudly tell me about some great kill he made with some kind of gun in some kind of maneuver. I totally do not get it.

The one bright spot: whereas he used to play right through dinner, he now will come up to the kitchen, without much delay, when I call him to dinner. Baby steps, right?

Working working at choosing happy. Because there are moments when it all feels worthwhile.

A comedy of errors

So we have this painter, Igor, who the Mr. thinks is great. I believe that Igor grew up under the Communist system and feels that whether he works or not, he still gets paid for showing up and standing around. Igor makes me crazy. He gets to the house at 9:30 or 10, walks around for a while, leaves, comes back and paints or primes and leaves at about 3. Very little gets done.

Today, brilliant Igor decided to stain the door to the powder room. He removed the door handle to do so. My autistic stepson, David, who will happily carry on a phone conversation no matter where he is and what he's doing, wandered into the powder room and shut the door.

It's unclear how long David was stuck in there. The Mr. heard him banging on the door after coming home from a business dinner. David wasn't upset; he was still on the phone. Picture this: David on the phone, the Mr. -- who is normally great with tools, fumbling with a screwdriver to undo the door (a few cocktails at dinner, dear?) and the other boys crowded around the door laughing. Yours truly finally got the door open.

At long last, a moment of levity, making it infinitely easier to choose happy.

Home again, home again, jiggety jog

Hello friends, back from the first vacation with three of my kids, the Mr. and my 15-year-old stepson. I'd love to report that it all went swimmingly. That we soaked up the Mexican sun, played and laughed endlessly and generally spent 7 wonderful days enjoying each other's company.

That's what I'd love to report. The reality was sadly much different. It was one of the most difficult trips I've ever taken. Too much togetherness, perhaps. It felt as though a magnifying glass was held up to each of us and what we saw wasn't pretty. Frustrating behavior (two of the four boys), impatience (me), indecision (the Mr.).  Not to mention that the Mr. and I were each getting over wicked sinus/ear infections that not even liberal doses of tequila could conquer.

Two days home and it feels like we're still rebounding from the tension -- the adults more so than the kids. Somethings need to change, and that feels kind of scary. I'm not sure how that's going to look or what that conversation is going to sound like. But something very clearly needs to change or I worry about our ability to successfully, happily and lovingly move forward.

Working hard to choose happy.

And We're Off....

Today the Mr. and I leave on our first woven family vacation. Me and three of my kids, plus the Mr. and one of his boys (calendar conflicts precluded three of the kids joining us and a beach trip isn't a good fit for my autistic stepson).

Fingers crossed that all goes well. I'll report back in a week or so.

Until next time, choose happy.

Lurch

Sometimes it feels as though the Mr. and I lurch from one mini-crisis to the next with my freshman-in-high-school stepson, awkwardly rebounding and not really regaining equilibrium before the next incident. He can be so sweet when it suits him, but man, cross him and tell him it's time for homework or to quit his gaming at dinnertime, and he can grunt and snarl with the best of them. (Believe me, one of my boys can be as nasty as they come, so I know what I'm talking about!)

It's exhausting. Just when the Mr. and I think he's over the hump and things are improving, another call from school comes in. Having been there with my biological kids, I know how it eats a parent up. So, I get to watch my stepson and my husband struggle - big fun.

I get that this is all part of the package and that neither marriage nor parenting is always easy or entertaining. And we do get glimmers of hope, we know there's a light at the end of the tunnel. But when does the struggle stop?

Until next time, keep on choosing happy.

Damaged Goods

Ok, friends, this is a tough one to write. As adults, we come out of our marriages damaged -- some a little more than others. Generally speaking, we have access to resources (financial, emotional, etc.) to help us along until we regain our equilibrium.

But what about the kids? I know mine were hurt, sad, mad, anxious and maybe a little relieved when their dad and I split. Still, three of my four boys took years to get over the fact that their dad and I weren't going to reconcile. As to other folks' kids, it's hard to know how they experience divorce or separation from a parent because we weren't there from start to finish.

So, we struggle to figure out what the voids are in our stepkids' lives and hope to heal them, maybe a little. My eyes are tearing up as I write this, because one of the Mr.'s boys is so desperately struggling and we don't know how to help him. I don't know how to help him. And as a mom, it breaks my heart. Part of me wants to steer clear of the whole thing, and part of me wants to jump in and just take over. Part of me tries to empathize with my stepson, and part of me is so pissed off because it seems like he's not trying, not asking for help or accepting it when offered. Unwilling to even recognize that there is a problem.

There are no drugs or alcohol involved, no pregnant girlfriends, so for that I'm grateful. Just a sweet young man who's been emotionally and academically whipped around so much he can't find his way.

Today, I am truly a tormented stepmom.

All the more reason to choose happy.

Crushed Cookies and Dirty Socks

My 20-year-old stepson came for a visit during his spring break. He's a good kid, slowly finding his way in life. His two brothers who live with me and the Mr. adore him, so it's always nice for the bros to have some quality time together.

After Spence* left for the airport, I went to his room to strip the sheets, correctly suspecting that it wouldn't have occurred to him to do it. But what I found rather surprised me. Ok, so maybe the garbage on the floor from a few shopping trips shouldn't have thrown me. And the CDs scattered around, those are his Dad's. But what about the cookies and the socks?

Per Spence, "Oh, yeah. The socks are dirty and I didn't want to pack them. And the cookies got kind of crushed while I was traveling so I just left them."

Typical guy stuff, I know. But really, leaving your dirty socks and trash for someone else to clean up? Hmmm. I could be perturbed, but better if I choose happy.

Who's Calling the Shots?

Just read an article in OK magazine about how LeAnn Rimes was going to attend her fiance's son's Career Day at school. The mom, Brandi Glanville, tweeted her outrage: "It isn't ur place. You are not his parent."

Here's how I score this:

LeAnn: 1 point for agreeing to participate in her future stepchild's school activity. The boy -- who looks to be about 8 or 9 years old -- must have asked her or how else would she have known about it, right? And the article states that she often takes the boy to school.

The Dad: minus 2 points. Sounds like he didn't give the mom a heads' up and put his fiancee in a difficult position. He's either totally tone-deaf to the interest in his high-profile relationship or he's a twerp who's too intimidated to man-up and handle things the right way between the women.

The Mom (Brandi): minus 1 point - seriously, you had to Tweet your dissatisfaction? How about working it out privately? Boorish behavior isn't attractive. We get it -- he's your kid, you get school activities.

No matter who was right/wrong, the kid loses -- angry mom, incapable dad, and seemingly caring step-mom who erratically gets pulled in and out of his life. Grow-up, grown-ups.

Until next time, choose happy.

AAARGHH!

My husband noted that I haven't been sounding very tormented in my musings on this blog. Let me assure you, if I was in a brief, contented lull, the torment has come roaring back.

This morning alone I have screamed, sworn, stomped around, pouted and generally behaved in a way that would make a hilarious -- although mortifying -- youtube video. All before 9 a.m. How much fun can the rest of the day bring?

Time to remind myself ... choose happy.

Step-Parenting Cheat Sheet: Part 1

My dear friend was bemoaning her sweetie's kids and their relative lack of manners, devotion to their dad and general decency as human-beings-in-training. So, she decided to take matters into her own hands and rehabilitate those rascally young 'uns (they're teenagers, actually).

BIG MISTAKE, I told her, and here's why: There are certain rules to step-parenting. As a current step-p and having been a child who was step-parented, the following tips are common sense rules of the road. Please note: 1) I'm not a therapist; and 2) generally speaking, these are if the kids don't live with you both full-time.

The DOs
1. Do give your honey time alone with her kids. Your company is probably welcome, but recognize that the kids want to see her, not you.

2. Do be welcoming to his kids when they're in your home. Believe me, they feel weird enough being in their Dad's house with a woman who isn't their Mom.

3. Do be clear on rules of the house re: appropriate language, sharing meals together, whatever. Best if you and your honey are in sync re: this one, but if she leaves it to you, be gentle but be clear.

4. Do try to care for your partner's kids as you'd want someone else to care for your kids.

5. Be loving. Be generous. Keep trying.

The DON'Ts
1. Don't insist on always being with his kids. They're not a threat to you. And the kids will resent your constant presence. Again, they want to be with him, you - not so much, no matter how much they like you.

2. Don't criticize her kids. They may be ill-mannered, thoughtless or have bad hygiene, but don't pick about this one. Your partner already knows and feels bad enough about it.

3. Ix-nay on the exting-tay. You are not your step-kids pal. Sure, they may "friend" you, but don't comment on their FB wall.

4. No e-mails either, unless it's happy news or to figure out logistics (pick you up at the mall in 5 minutes; congrats on the making the team). Anything else -- including suggestions on handling dating, homework or their relationship with their parents -- will backfire. It WILL be shared with the other parent and it WON'T be appreciated.

5. You are not your partner's therapist. If your honey is having trouble with his or her kids, be supportive but otherwise butt out. Provide names or recommendations of good family therapists. Getting too involved warps your relationship and is liking trying to coach your kid in a sport - bad idea.

6. Don't give up. Parenting your own child is hard enough, parenting a step-child is multiple times more difficult.

Open to all other thoughts and suggestions. Until next time, choose happy.

Are kids "baggage?"

Back in my post-divorce dating days, I remember being introduced to an intriguing fellow by a mutual friend. We drank martinis at a chic watering hole in the city and seemed to have a growing interest in each other.

The next day, I asked my buddy what his friend's story was. "Oh, he doesn't date women with kids." Flat out, no room for discussion.  For the first time ever, it occurred to me that my beautiful, wonderful, loving, funny kids might be considered undesirable "baggage" to someone else.

In a causal survey of friends and acquaintances, I've repeatedly found that those of us with more than 2 kids, or kids with special needs, end up with others in the same boat. You'd think that bringing a rowdy foursome to the table might be a deal-breaker, but to someone else with an equal or greater number of kids, four is nothing. One dear friend has a sister with two special needs kids; she married a guy who also has special needs kids. What might seem overwhelming to some is a regular day to someone who's already been there, done that.

The "baggage" related to kids that I have found is when it comes to age. If his are in high school or older and hers are still doing shadow boxes and field tripping to the pumpkin patch, that can be a problem. I, for one, have zero interest in reading Toad and Frog ever again.

Open to comments on this one.

Until next time, choose happy.

Desperately Seeking ....

Interesting tidbit: a divorced woman I casually know, who -- on the surface -- would not seem to have much going for her, was ardently pursued by a decent-enough divorced dad of two. There's nothing really wrong with this gal, but not much right, either, to my way of thinking. She's not too bright, totally uninformed with regard to what's happening in the world, no real talent to speak of and hasn't held a job in about 20 years. She is, however, a loving parent. Not necessarily a good parent, but a loving parent.

And I guess that's enough for some guys who are so overwhelmed by solo parenting that they'll glom onto any convenient nurturer to care for their kids.

I try not to be too judgemental -- hey, if it works for them, why should I care? Maybe it's better for the kids to at least have one adult in the house who theoretically knows how to nurture. But really? Is it?

Should a home-cooked meal outweigh the value of real love? How do you build a family if you're not in it for the deeper stuff, but primarily to be sure there's a body at the house when the kids get home? What kind of relationship is that modelling for the kids?

I understand that companionship alone fills a lot of needs for adult singles. But when you bring kids into the picture, should there be a higher standard?

Pondering this one, so until next time, choose happy.

Groundhog Day

Everyone knows the Bill Murray film, "Groundhog Day." It's a modern classic -- funny, heartwarming, life lessons imparted with a light touch.

It occurred to me the other day that I am, in fact, living 'Groundhog Day.'

One of my stepsons, 23-year-old David*, is on the autism spectrum. While fairly high-functioning in some areas (he has a strong appreciation for the buxom blonde!), in others he's closer to a 7-8-year-old, situation depending. Very social and fluent with the cell phone, David makes calls, sends texts and sets up plans that would keep me and his dad running in circles if we didn't occasionally say, "no way."

What I'm learning, though, is that David is a young man of rituals and repetition. Every morning, we go through a routine in my home office that's something like this:

"Hi, stepmom. How did you sleep?"
"It's sunny outside, stepmom."
"Where's Dad?"
"Where are the guys?"
"Do you have any money?"
"Who's coming here today?" (house is under renovation, remember?)
"Where's the dog?"
"What are you doing today?"
"Are you working today?"
"I'm going to take a shower at 10:30."
"I'll be back."
"I"m going to play."
"I'll be back."
"Who's at the door?"
"I'll be back."
"Can I play?"
"I'll be back."
"I'm going to the bathroom now."

When I shared this little exchange with a girlfriend, she was laughing so hard she couldn't breathe. Keep in mind, these questions come one right after another, sometimes without even waiting for an answer.

At night, there's a knock at our bedroom door,

David: "Dude, are you in there?"
the Mr.: "No."
David: "Dude, what are you doing?"
- side note - we're in bed, so sometimes we're just reading, but sometimes not, if you get my drift.
Mr.: "David, go to bed."
David: "Do you have money for me?"
Mr.: "I'll give it to you tomorrow."
David: "Can I come in?"
Mr.: "No!"
David: "What are you doing?"
Mr.: "Go to bed!"
David: "Where's stepmom?"

Okay, it's somewhat chuckle-worthy. But like Bill Murray's character early in the movie, I have not yet stopped fighting the repetition; it annoys me anew each day. Clearly, I'm the character that needs to do some learning.

Until next time, choose happy.

* Not his real name.

A View from Mars

Sam*, the husband of a dear friend, shared his take on step-parenting. I've edited slightly, but it's a great lesson in preparedness!

I had anticipated the 'You're not my dad and can't tell me what to do!' moment, so the wife and I had a prepared line ready for when it came, as of course it did. I very calmly said: 'You're right, Joe*, I'm not your Dad and I could never take his place.  But I did promise to love your Mom and help her finish raising you so you need to get in the house right now and do your job." 

It was unbelievable. Joe went from being a puffed up, angry little dude to a deflated balloon, schlumping back into the house. That part was hard to see, but good, too, because honestly, Joe has never again challenged my authority. 

Another idea from Sam:

When I became a stepdad, Joe was 10. To help establish and define my role in Joe's life, I declared myself to be Joe's "Spare" as in Spare Dad - as in spare tire. Like a spare tire, I would always be there if he needed me, but I would never try to take over Joe's dad's role. Seven years later, aside from the usual bumps in the road, it's all good.

*not his real name

Introducing our Featured Guest Star

I finally 'fessed up to the hubby and let him know that I'm blogging. Good writing, I believe, requires honesty, and we all know that being honest isn't always easy or pretty. Happily, the hubby is understanding and knows how very loved he -- and his kids - are, so he's given me the thumb's up, if not his blessing.

About the Mr.: he is a true grown up. No need to prove anything to anybody. Wickedly funny sense of humor, loves a bad pun, smartsmartsmart. Reads people like a book and will attend religious services not so much out of belief, but superstition. Generous, patient (a good counterbalance to me) and hard-working. Former auto racer who's got lots of wrenches and knows how to use them, guitar-playing, blues lovin' boy from NY who found love in the Midwest. Dad of three sons, one daughter who is his Princess.

His step-parenting experience is somewhat different than mine, in that my kids' father lives nearby; his kids' mom is out-of-state. He's a great influence in my kids' lives for which I am very grateful. Plus, he likes to snuggle.

Until next time, choose happy.

Woven, like a pot holder

So I previously asked what term might better describe my family than "blended." Blending is something that happens in the kitchen or, I'm told, how a woman should put on eyeshadow so it looks natural (whatever). The parts are supposed to be indistinguishable and that's clearly not how families are -- there will always be yours and mine no matter how much we love them as ours.

What we really are is woven together. The threads of his family and the threads of mine weave in-and-out like one of those colorful pot-holders we made back in the day. We're individual pieces that come together from different places and move into each others' lives, creating a new, different and hopefully strong fabric that will hold up through the years.

I like "woven," but if you've got a better idea, please share.

Until next time, choose happy.

Blended Families and Bonus Children - WHAT?

OK, so I've been doing some online research as my efforts to wrap my arms around the many changes involved in successfully parenting stepkids and my own continue. I have repeatedly come across the terms "bonus kids" and "blended family."

First, "bonus kids." What the heck does that mean? Didn't we know in advance of marriage that our spouse had kids? Look up bonus and you'll see "extra, a premium, more than usual." That all sounds nice, but hardly applies to my stepkids; they're people, not a special surprise I found at the bottom of a cereal box.

As to "blended family." Hmm, is that really what we're doing? When I cook and the recipe calls for blending, everything gets smoothly mixed together to create a uniform substance. While I hope that my husband and I are creating a good family experience for our kids, we're hardly blended. His kids are his; mine are mine. It's not like they get all mixed up and we can't pick out which ones we brought into the marriage.

And so, there must be a better way to describe what we're creating here. If not blended, then what? Suggestions, my readers?

Until next time, choose happy.

The Flip Side

I joked to a friend the other day that my stepkids' mom should send me a Valentine - a big one, as it sometimes felt like I was doing her job.

Not true, of course. I strongly believe that no one can, or should, ever consider replacing the biological parent of their stepchild unless that parent was abusive or has abandoned the child. Every child wants to love his/her mom and dad -- even if mom and dad aren't perfect. And who is?

I struggle with the fine line between being the "mom" figure for my stepkids without actually being mom. I don't hug my stepkids as easily or as often as I hug my biological children, but I recognize that every now and then a kid needs a "mom" hug, and so I try to reach out.

That said, I have watched my biological kids grow fond of a woman their dad (my ex, of course) brought into their life, and it isn't easy. They enjoy her company, look forward to seeing her and speak glowingly of what a great cook she is. Ouch.

One particular day, my kids, their dad and his date arrived at a celebratory event at which I also attended. I sat in a row behind my kids and watched them giggle, chat and entertain each other throughout the ceremony. And then, IT happened. One of my kids put his head on HER shoulder and she tossled his hair. It was a loving, tender moment and it tore my heart out.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't stop watching. I left the ceremony, hyperventilating when I reached the vestibule doors. My son's head was meant to rest on my shoulder, no one else's. That special tenderness is for Mom only. That day ranks highly among the most painful moments in my life.

So, my co-step parents, let's do our best to love and be kind to our step kids and hope that someone else will give us the same consideration. All without stepping over that painful, smudgy line in the sand.

Until next time, choose happy.

A love story

It's often surprising to me how often people say, "Wow, you must really love him" when they learn of how my life has been up-ended by marriage.

Generally, my first thought is, "Well, duh, of course I love him. Why else would I marry him?"

But there's truth in the meaning behind their questions. From the outside looking in, what's in it for me? I owned a great home that my kids grew up in and which held many wonderful memories; I sold it at the bottom of the market. I lived and worked without air conditioning but with the ongoing companionship of a series of tradesmen for one of the hottest summers on record. I imposed upon my children the need to move from the only home they'd ever known to a still unfinished place with my new husband and two of his kids who live with us full-time. And I'm a dog-owner now. Wow, indeed.

Whatever expectations we bring into our marriages, there's no way to really know how it's going to flow. We hope for the best and that love and patience will carry the day. A friend, who's youngest child just turned 30, found me crying one Sunday morning on the corner. I was overwhelmed with all that I'd undertaken. "I wondered how it was going for you," she said. "It's just not easy. The first five years were a constant battle in my marriage. It was one of the hardest things I've ever lived through -- figuring out how to deal with each other's kids." This from a woman who has twice battled cancer.

So, there's love and there's hope. And for most of us, lots of wine!

Until next time, choose happy.

A winning combo?

The hubby and I never talked about having a child together, given our ages and that we're both a little worn out with the ones we already have, but -- without sounding all Carrie Bradshaw -- I can't help but wonder what our offspring would be like.

Would they combine the best elements of our current kids, or would we produce something totally unexpected? A great beauty? A musical prodigy?

Moot point, really, cuz we're not going there. But still.....

until next time, choose happy.

"You're not the boss of me!"

Okay, comrades in step-parenting -- how do you handle it when your stepchild is recalcitrant, negative and unwilling to do what even THEY know is the right thing to do? I've just about had my share of negotiating, discussing and otherwise trying to help. On the one hand, I know this is an opportunity for me to really help this young man who has so desperately needs boundaries and support. On the other hand, I'm human and have my limits (not to mention my own biological kids and their needs/crises, work, etc.).

HELP!

Missing Children

Why is it that even when my stepkids are home, I so desparately miss my own kids? Life is actually easier and quieter when my babies (well, teens) aren't home. The stepkids actually require somewhat less of me than my own brood, so shouldn't I be enjoying my relative freedom?

Just trying to figure it all out, until then ... choose happy.

the sum of our parts...

When you marry a divorced parent (previously owned?), what you get is the sum of all of their broken parts, plus the sum of yours. In other words, a lot of baggage. So, while you may be working on your "stuff," that doesn't necessarily mean that they've figured out that element of their "stuff." Frustrating, to say the least.

Until next time, choose happy.

I am the Stepmom, Koo Koo Katchoo

It's fair to say that never, in my wildest imaginings, did I ever think I'd be a "stepmom." Something about the word and all it's implications is so -- I don't know --maybe not negative so much as amibivalent regarding the care and feeding of a new spouse's kids. And yet ... here I am, regularly hearing myself referred to as "stepmom." Which I suppose is better than Stepmother. Deep sigh....

Until next time, choose happy.

The Beginning

This blog is meant more of a means for me to vent that which should probably remain unsaid, unshared and, in an ideal world, unthought. However, the world isn't ideal and I'm fairly certain that there are a goodly number of stepmoms -- and stepdads -- who share the ups and downs, highs and lows, joy and anger of stepparenting.

Let me start by saying that it is NOT my stepkids who torment me. I do it to myself. With every shrugging off of a hug, not making eye contact or resentfully providing a ride, I later guiltily beat myself up for not eagerly offering or sharing with my stepkids what I so generously and unbidden give my own.

If any of this sounds like familiar territory, I invite you to join me for this little memoir/expose of my tormented life as a stepmom. While intellectually I do know (really, I do) how very lucky I am to have happy, healthy biological kids, a generally smooth blending of families, a great husband and genuinely nice stepkids, it's still way harder than I ever could have imagined.

Until next time... choose happy.