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.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Monday, March 7, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, February 21, 2011
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
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
Saturday, February 19, 2011
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.
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.
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