Tag Archives: stepmom

So you’re tellin me there’s a chance!

15 Thursday Jan 2015

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Thank God the holidays are over. As much as I love 5 rounds of Christmas, two new years, and a couple double time birthday parties chucked in at the end; I’m happy to wave goodbye to that round of chaos.

Things escalated quite rapidly around here last week. I believe it was the illness plaguing everyone in our house for the last 30 days, making its rounds from one to the next and then back again, a flu that never really had to retire. Or maybe it was the stress of all of the planning and shopping and wrapping and strategizing and stressing and showering….at least I’m pretty sure I took a couple of showers last month. Regardless of the reason, my typically controlled, stoic, calm facade cracked in two pieces without warning. We went from a calm discussion to me nearly throwing my phone through a front window, only to be followed by a couple of framed pictures shortly after. Imagine the silent thud in the new fallen snow of both communication and history landing together in a perfect juxtaposition to the volume of my voice in that moment. I snapped. I knew in that moment I had snapped, I heard my inner voice frantically pulling back on the leash, flailing about and whispering “no! NO! NO!”. I didn’t care. In that tiny 2 second window of argument between me and me, I won with a simple, “I don’t care, what do we have to lose?!”

So I lost it, in the verbal attack sense. It ended with a demand to face the past and set out some boundaries and ground rules. To apologize and offer insight into history. To smooth the road so that I have a fair chance in this life I’ve chosen. It ended with an ultimatum.

I don’t believe in ultimatums. I don’t believe any true relationship should ever come to that. It should always be give and take, take and give. Never should one have to demand something from the other….or else. It’s not a great moment in our history, but I don’t regret it. In the end, the reason for my snap, my loss of control, my demands and ultimatum, was due to my own insecurity. In a previous post I mentioned how we do not have time for our own work, our own needs, our own insecurities and they pile up behind us. Well, this was the avalanche. My own insecurities won out against sanity and brains and took over. And it turns out…..I was wrong. Damn. I do not like being wrong. I don’t do well with being wrong, BUT I can find the silver lining in being wrong. I was wrong, but look what came of it!

Because of my temporary loss of control over my emotions we are now looking down the barrel of a long life that is just starting to build itself. Their relationship has been taped together through communication and honesty, for the time being. My relationship with her is new, fragile, and uncomfortable for both of us. I feel that we both want to dive in head first and skip all of the steps we need to take to build and establish trust in one another and start swapping recipes and Peanut stories like old chums. My sanity has returned enough to put the leash on this at least. I’ve stopped myself from unnecessary texts to try to force a relationship, but at least for now there are two new key elements to this awkward family dynamic:

1. They can talk to each other honestly, at least for now.

2. She knows now I have no intention of taking her place as Mommy, and will even go so far as to defend her role to people she doesn’t know.

I think that we have a chance. I am caustically optimistic as I’ve been burned by blind faith before. But if nothing else, it’s a start. I’m a good person, and maybe one day she will know me well enough to believe that.

Jealousy, and letting go

05 Monday Jan 2015

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , ,

The past is in the past. Unless its your past. Then I want to talk about it. I want to analyze it. I want to stress over it. Cry over it. Wonder why I missed out on the biggest firsts of all time. (At least of my all time) I don’t understand why milestones are so important to me. I know when I was younger I always had this fantasy dream about forever. That it was all cupcakes and roses and freaking teddy bears.

Then life punches you in the throat.

You think you’re smart. You think you learn. You feel like, yea, I’ve made some pretty dumb choices, but they’ve all led me to here, and I’m learning dammit! you hear a song on the radio about all the heartache leading to you and it calms your spirit just a little. You decide, I can muddle through.

In all the patience and dealing and analyzing and reacting that we do as step mothers to manage the chaos of being a step mother, when do we have time for our own regular insecurities that we’ve been working on for decades? When do we get to “freak out” over the stupid stuff again? There’s no time! There’s no room in your brain! And eventually all of that “stupid stuff” you were working on to improve yourself as a functional human in today’s society, gets piled up behind you and starts to blur with today’s “normal step mom stuff” and you really aren’t sure if you’re letting go when you should “Let it gooooooo” or holding on to a mole hill that somehow looks like a freakin mountain. So then it becomes all or nothing.

I’ve been consistently demonstrating multiple attitudes towards all of the drama and chaos. I want to know everything. So I know everything, I’m involved in everything, I do everything. Then that gets too emotionally overwhelming, so I chuck the towel at someone’s head, throw my arms up, yell “Uncle” and bail. Informational blackout. Emotional shut down. I don’t want to know anything, I refuse to plan, be involved, learn, adapt, assist, etc. And then it all goes sideways. So I’m back in like a referee planning, adapting, avoiding, and prepping for doomsday.

Does this sound like a full time salaried job that you work 80 hours a week at? Can I hire an assistant? Can I get an event planner? A judge? Jury? How about someone to just clean the windows and give me a brighter view of the rest of the world. Being a parent is hard, nobody tells you being a step mom with her own issues, her own fears, her own concept of understanding ruling her world, is going to be one hell of a handful on your psyche.

Everyone Breaks

17 Wednesday Dec 2014

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , ,

I am a machine.

Because I don’t know how to stop.

I am indestructible.

Because I was hardened against pain young.

I will always win.

Because I was raised to win.

I am the best. 

Because I know that I am so far from perfect.

I’ve taken 2 sick days from work in the past week. That’s in addition to the 2 scheduled off days. I haven’t called off of work in roughly 7 years. And here I am. Incapacitated. I’ve apparently developed sinus problems, as well as a potential heart problem. Numerous appointments to come. What is making me fall apart?

I informed my doctor that my life is no more stressful than it was 6 months ago, in fact it might be less! That I couldn’t understand why the attacks were escalating. And after being up late into the morning last night, mostly crying and struggling to understand and accept the current round of chaos, that I realized I’m not ok. My life is not less stressful. My life has hit turbo on the insanity button.

There are arguments over the dog. (That I started). Arguments over the schedule (That she started). Arguments over the future (I maintain that it’s hopeless). Bitter snipes about bad decisions in the past. (That I throw like candy at the 4th of July parade). And there are fireworks. And tears. And stress. And pain. And attacks to my heart on an ever escalating scale.

Something has to change. Today, I told him I am out of the process for Xmas. Whatever he comes up with, he manages the fallout. I can’t control this situation, so I will spend the next 8 days finding peace in knowing I can control my acceptance. I can control if I bake the cookies. I can control my preparations for our family Xmas party. I cannot control what happens on Christmas Eve. And really, no matter what, there’s no positive outcome.

So I’m going to rest in bed. And pray. And make my appointments. Everyone else can wait. I need to pray for sanity and strength and peace. (And for this migraine/heart problem/sinus chaos to go away quickly!)

I am tired.

I am loving.

I am weak. 

I am loved.

I think I’m the invisible grinch

09 Tuesday Dec 2014

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

Well this is the stuff of nightmares. I have Christmas lights, we’re going to get our tree, there are stockings hung by the fire with care. And my heart is heavy with anger and sadness. It is overwhelming my favorite type of cheer. I can’t seem to get out from under it. It’s a constant uphill battle and I’m losing. I’m losing badly, not graciously or in some sort of movie star classy way, I am flat-out getting my ass handed to me by anger.
I have logic. My brain knows. My brain says, “you become entrenched in what you scheme about”. And I can’t stop it. I just, I want to knock people off their illusioned pedestals.

And you thought this was about Christmas cheer. Christmas is my number one favorite holiday, and I am struggling through it. This is our first “real” Christmas together, and I already have so much anxiety over how it’s going to get jacked up. Will we have Peanut for Christmas? Will we have enough time to finish making all of her presents for my family and his? Will I be able to get all of the cookies made? Will we have time to shop for our family Christmas party? Yes, the one we are having a week early just to ensure some of my holiday tradition remains steadily intact.  Will we this? Will we that? Will we? Will we? Will we?

Will I?

I recently got to experience my first official “non-existent” moment in this whole step parenting game. Due to circumstances beyond my control I had to leave an event for Peanut early, which resulted in her getting her picture taken with all sides of the families, all the while she was asking where I was. When she got home and I got home we took pictures together to make up for it. It was then that I was informed of the mommy/daddy photo-op that had taken place in my absence. Poof. As though I never existed. Feel free to judge me on this one. I make no excuses for the hurt I felt and that horrible left-out feeling I got from it. I don’t even deny the jealousy that tore through my heart as I realized while I was taking care of everyone else, everyone but Peanut pretended I didn’t exist. I don’t know how to explain the combination of frustration, rage, sadness, and isolation that moment gave me. I keep having these moments, in escalating order, that make me want to throw my hands in the air and call “Uncle”.

I read a well written paper on the dangers of social media which referenced the term FOMO, “feelings of missing out”. The idea is that social media, among other things, has become such an addiction of “staying informed” and “included” that people are having strong reactions to missing out. This was my FOMO moment. As seems to be typical for us, here I was once again running all over God’s creation trying to make sure everything was done, everyone’s needs were met, and I was missing out on something important. I was missing the opportunity to be recognized as an involved human. As a thing that actually exists in this messed up family dynamic we are struggling to develop. And I missed it. Poof. I didn’t exist to anyone in that moment.

Did I need to?

I existed to Peanut. Granted, I disappointed her by not being there in that moment. But I existed to her. I realize that I need to dig deep and be a stronger person, and that much of this anxiety and sadness comes from a lack of confidence in who I am and my place in my world, our world. I should not need to be recognized by everyone. I should not need to be accepted by those who I do not seek a bond with. But I do. And I don’t know another way to be right now. And that’s the simple truth. I’m a different kind of Grinch. My heart isn’t two sizes too small, it’s much too big and trying to love everyone as much as it can. As a result, my heart is over worked and poorly rested and daily conking out on me. How do we fit self-love into all the other loving we need to do? Can I do this in my sleep?

 

I left my shoes in San Francisco….it’s not always serious :)

26 Wednesday Nov 2014

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , , ,

For all of you wanna-be runners out there (And I say that with the utmost respect, as I am one of you). A word of caution: If it’s been awhile since you laced up, might I recommend not lacing up on 60 degree inclines.

I recently had to opportunity to go on a “Freedom Fest” in San Francisco. I cashed in my miles and booked a solo trip for some much-needed rest and recuperation. I was all sorts of jacked up to see the city, explore, eat, wander aimlessly, and kick-start my running career. (Did I mention in a moment of panic and sheer aimlessness I signed up for a half marathon in less than 6 months?!!!) I flew in late in the afternoon, found my way around the city on the BART, had a lovely sushi meal, explored a little, and promptly fell asleep early.

I awoke the next morning before 6AM, lets face it, old habits die-hard even on vacation. I sprang out of bed, dusted off my running pants, and laced up; fresh-faced, bright-eyed, and bushy-tailed, ready to seize the run! I went down to the hotel lobby where they were rocking (loudly) some GaGa song, and felt renewed energy I haven’t felt in a long time. I was pretty darn motivated. I walked out the front door and stopped. People were passing by the hotel, clutching their collars around their necks, holding fiercely to their umbrellas, and gawking at me with my running shoes on and headphones in, as if to say “She can’t be serious.” I stood there a moment, both taking them in and allowing them to take me in. By God it was raining in San Fran, and these people thought I was bananas! I flipped to the next song on my playlist and took off running in the rain. I don’t know if you’ve run in the rain or snow before, but where I’m from, if it’s not a freezing rain, it’s a blast to run in! I quickly passed the “huddle walkers” and started off on my laced up adventure.

I made it 1.5 miles. Up hill. Both ways. I thought my legs were going to just break off and walk away, possibly middle-toe me on their exit. My lungs were burning for oxygen, my head was dizzy. It was an impossible run. And it was my first since August.

Fool.

But I was proud of myself. I was alone in a new city. I was out on a run in the rain. I was rocking 15 minute miles up hill the whole way. I deserved a Starbucks for this! I stopped in at the nearest SB, ordered my traditional, and walked confidently out the front door. It was here that I realized, holy biscuits, I’m totally lost in this city. Up is down and right is left in SF. So much of the city is surrounded by water, so if you can see over the hill to know there’s water there, depending on where exactly you might be in the city, that could be west….that could be south. Or was it North?

No sweat I thought, I’ll wander. Maybe do some Christmas shopping along the way. Maybe I’ll even stop in and disturb the Prada people with my sweaty, rain-soaked mess of an excuse for a human. I wandered aimlessly, fully believing my direction would right itself in the end, and sipped my SB happily. Eventually, my venti was gone, and I was starting to recognize where I was. I was feeling so upbeat and positive that I thought, “Why not run again?”

Let me just point out this obvious flaw for you: Do not have a Starbucks after a run, then decide to run again once it is gone.

This was a fatal flaw, lets just say by the time I ran through the front door of the hotel I must have been a sight to see: Dripping wet, red-faced, bent in half, near dead. The broken elevator could not get there fast enough, and there was no way I was running another 6 flights of stairs.  Needless to say, I made it to my room, and spent the next few hours recovering.

Always be motivated and excited by the newness of your situation and be certain that your coffee intake is situationally appropriate.

Let them cry over spilled milk

13 Thursday Nov 2014

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

Lately, Peanut is being told that what she feels is incorrect, and as I wrote this I realized we are equally at fault. The fear, is that as she continues to grow and relate to herself, she won’t trust her feelings and emotions because she’s being told they are wrong.

I struggled with trusting my emotions for many years. I was in my twenties when I finally broke and accepted that feelings are never wrong. What can be wrong, is your actions you take based on your feelings. I do not want that hardship for her, so many regrets, so much heartache because you couldn’t trust yourself. If you don’t trust yourself, who will you ever trust? And if you can’t trust others, what life do you have? As humans our sole purpose is to connect with others. I am still struggling to fulfill my purpose, struggling to learn to trust in others, struggling daily to believe in my own instincts.

So how do you combat damage to your emotional health? Specifically, when the assailant is unaware, unmoved, or unconcerned with long-term effects? We’ve started to teach her what feelings are and how to identify them. We’ve also taken a hard look at how we respond to melt downs and tantrums and crying fits for “no reason”. Both of us are guilty of brushing it off, laughing, or worse telling her to buck up. We don’t stop to allow her to be angry. We aren’t patient with her tears that we see as futile. Children feel heavily, but often it comes out over a spilled juice or a paw print on a new sweater. And to us adults, having 30+ years on this planet suffering, learning, growing; we see these “epic moments” as silly and foolish to cry over. So we try to teach that, help the child learn that some things in this world are worth crying over, but spilled milk is not one of them. What is wrong with us?

To a child, spilled milk is their entire world. It’s everything in their view at that moment in time, and they’ve just ruined it. Spilled milk is a loss of control to a little girl who has no control over what’s going on with her. She has no say. No input in whose house she sleeps at that night. No choice that her parents don’t live together. So to her, she has her milk. She wants her milk. She’s going to drink her milk as slow or fast as she desires. And then the universe comes swooping in, and takes that choice away from her. How do you, the great all knowing adult, react when the universe spills your milk?spilled-milk-day

Let’s stop telling children their emotions are wrong for the situation. Let’s welcome and embrace those emotions, and start teaching them healthy ways to respond and accept their feelings. Being sensitive should be seen as a value to strive for in this world, and we could all use a little more patience.

I think my dog is God’s way of saying….I’ve gone too far

12 Wednesday Nov 2014

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , ,

I’m a fairly glass is half-full type of person. I’ve been knocked down more times than I can count, dealt with an amazing array crap, and still have usually been able to bounce back, keep it together, not completely lose it.

Enter, the beast. He’s a puppy really, let’s call him Boozer. Boozer is a 40lb missle, yes in just 5 months he went from less than 5 lbs. To a 40 lb, deaf missle. I say deaf in that he chooses not to hear a damn thing you say, yell, scream, threaten for the entire neighborhood to judge you on. Yes, we’ve become “The Yellers”. As in, “oh look honey, the Yellers got back from vacation….there’s Boozer”

To date he’s destroyed:

Shoes
a rug
attempted stuffed rabbit destruction
an easel
a borrowed couch (Dear God, please don’t let my mother-in-law read this)
hair pins
countless underwear ( I really don’t get it)
Socks (My God the socks

The general air we breathe  (I don’t understand how a dog can produce such noxious fumes)

Peanut’s pants, shirt, socks

Bacon’s pants
MY Pants!

He’s peed on every square inch of the floor, the rugs, my leg, Bacon’s leg, Peanut’s leg, Peanut’s mom’s leg, pretty much everywhere EXCEPT a fire hydrant.

Now this isn’t just a rant about my big dumb dog, who by the way is SUPPOSED to be the smartest of dogs. No, this is a dark time for me, that I am only now coming out of.

There came a point in our new life with this beast where I gave up. I couldn’t take the stress of work, Peanut, The X, the drama, and now this. damn. dog.

I hated him. Do you have any idea how awful and crappy that makes a person feel? To hate an animal. Thats pretty dark. It wasn’t his fault, and I avoided him at all costs. If I’m being honest it was during this time that I avoided my entire family at all costs. I stayed late at work (Sometimes actually by choice) because I couldn’t face them, I was worried my head would explode and irreparable damage would come vomiting out of my mouth. Yep. This is the lowest I’ve ever gone. I wasn’t just violently face-planting off a building into the bottom of an emotional barrel; I carefully and lovingly created the barrel, measured the distance, and attempted a swan dive into it.

So, how did I peel my face from the scratchy, weather-worn, hardened planks at the bottom of my emotional pit? I didn’t. I’m not out yet. But, I did go back to see my therapist. I did reach out and call my best friend. I did go see my sister. I did let my mom in on how low I really was. And in the end, ultimately, I took a real time out from everyone for four hours (ON family movie night) and I started to paint again.

I’m a real person.

I’m a real mom.

I have a pretty dark side.

(I regret installing a string of bells for Boozer to ring when he has to go outside, as that is my background music as I write this

)unnamed

Well nobody expected this….

12 Wednesday Nov 2014

Posted by in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, ,

Welcome to Step Mommy Run. I’ve never blogged before, but I find that I talk a lot, I make people laugh, and I am creative and want to help others. One thing I’ve discovered about being a Stepmom is that no matter what people tell you, no one can prepare you for some of the highs and some of the lows. My family always wondered about me when I was growing up, “will she be a nunn” “will she have children” “My God that child has control issues”. So no one ever saw “Stepmom” coming, and most of them are still reeling from what that means.

Did I mention I’m a runner? Well, I used to be. No, no, I was trying to be. Then life, parenting, commitment to relationship development, new job, family, the list goes on….suddenly jumped in and stole my running shoes. Literally, my running shoes disappeared for at least a couple months when we all moved in together!

Join me in some of these highs and lows. I promise to be honest. I guarantee I’ll be “ugly”. I’ll try share my ways of coping, and lets be honest, sometimes “checking out”. Most of all maybe we won’t feel so alone in this journey. I’ve noticed there are few “stepmommy groups/meetups” in my area. I spend time combing the internet for blogs or “help me” answers to some of the drama I face. Many of my friends and family do not personally know a step parent, and therefore have no idea how to respond or act accordingly….did I mention I’m crazy sensitive and have been all my life? Words have impact on a high level for me.

Also, I’m very random, so that should provide some entertainment.

Stay tuned for the adventure…

1970862_10152159291226492_92632954_n