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.