Dilemma

Is it better to insist, for reasons of character development, that the Boys contribute properly to picking up the twelvety-kajillion pieces of Lego, ranging from microscopic to Great Dane-sized, currently spread in a tide line across the loungeroom floor?

Or is it ok to just do it personally, thereby sparing myself the grizzling, need for constant reminders, threats to my stepmotherly/adult-in-the-house authority, risks to sanity and general hair shredding required by such an outrageous imposition on their weekend?

(Better yet, I could make a short but valiant effort, then retire to the bedroom to blog about it while the Lovely Man takes the helm. Yep, liking that option…)

The Onslaught

By last October, Christmas 2009 was shaping up to be fairly horrific.

In the end, it was and it wasn’t, I suppose. Like most adventures in stepfamily life, there were good as well as bad bits; in fact the good outweighed the bad to an unexpected extent.

On the whole, though, the giant endeavour of managing the parental-alienation-studded negotiations in the lead-up to December, the descent of the Boys on our (small) home for the holidays and orchestrating the twenty-plus-guest Christmas Day itself was so traumatising that I wanted to get into bed afterwards and stay there until, oh say, Valentine’s Day.

But without one key ingredient it could have been So Much Worse…

Some backstory:

The boys arrived a couple of days before The Day – I told the Lovely Man that dealing with Handover Syndrome on Christmas Day itself was NOT on my list of fun ways to spend the celebration.

They were, quite frankly, pissed.

Despite signing off to this arrangement in a parenting plan only months earlier, their Mum didn’t want them to be with us, in our city, for Christmas.

So, naturally, they didn’t want to be with us, in our city, for Christmas.

They wanted to be with their real family. (Their words, and despite the Lovely Man’s mother and brother being in attendance, and one of his sisters visiting as well.)

And they certainly didn’t want to attend the family therapy sessions we’d organised in an attempt to change the disastrously ugly and conflict-ridden direction this holiday period was taking.

The Lovely Man and I went for the first session by ourselves, leaving my heavily pregnant sister to care for the boys. Not a popular move, although they behaved well enough for her.

I went in with fairly modest hopes – just getting a chance to release some of the roiling internal turmoil over the situation would have made it worth while.

Surprisingly, though, the session was a real turnaround moment for the Lovely Man and me.

I had read about emotion coaching in Ron L. Deal & Laura Petherbridge’s fantastic book  The Smart Stepmom, and had tried tentatively to put it into practice, but without the Lovely Man onboard it was hard to have confidence to use the techniques.

And while the concepts are simple enough, we benefitted a lot from doing some role playing with the psychologist and without the kids present.

Ugggh. Role playing.

It worked, though.

So for instance, I told the psychologist about an especially nasty and hostile interaction I’d had with Boy A on my last visit to their city.

I had asked for the boys’ input on choosing a new paint colour for the kitchen in our city. My intention was to involve them, to show interest in their tastes. I asked them which of a couple of mock-up photos showing different colours they preferred.

Boy A’s response was angry, and to me, shocking

He almost screamed:

Why are you wasting all this money on that stupid house? You should be sending that money to my Mummy so she can buy a house!

Whoa!

I was so stunned that I reacted, rather than responding.

I said:

That’s ridiculous, Boy A.

And, of course, there came an angry chorus in reply.

It is NOT ridiculous. You SHOULD SO be buying our Mum a house!

By then I had taken a moment to compose myself, so I said, more gently.

I don’t mean that it’s ridiculous that your Mum wants her own house. But that is something between your Mum and Dad. They are talking about it at the moment, and it has NOTHING to do with me.

Boy A:

Well, it’s our Dad’s money you’re spending.

Hmmph.

Having related all this, the psychologist said to us that the emotion coaching approach is to listen to the words and try to hear what the fear or discomfort is underneath.

So here, for instance, a better response would have been:

It sounds like you’re worried about where you’ll be living when you’re with Mum, Boy A. Is that right? Are you worried about having somewhere to live?

Or maybe:

Are you saying that you’re trying to keep things fair between your Mum and Dad, Boy A? That must feel like a lot of pressure on you, trying to be in charge of that.

So we went home, and tried it.

Incredibly, it seemed to work.

The snarky comments that took so much strained effort for me to ignore or defuse turned into a chance for Boy A to say what was on his mind.

In turn, I felt as though I had a tool to use when these troubling moments arose.

Things improved dramatically. I stopped locking myself in my room so much.

The dreaded Christmas Day itself, which over and over Boy A insisted was going to be miserable throughout, went much more smoothly than we could have imagined.

When the Boys were upset or troubled, we listened to them, helping them name their feelings rather than telling them what they should be feeling. We followed through on the things they had said would make the day easier for them, like organising an iChat for them with their Mum.

Incredibly, ALL the Boys had fun. They freely said they had fun. Even Boy A.

And the Christmas that had felt like a hole in my heart became a celebration again.

____________________

If you’re interested in learning about emotion coaching, I heartily recommend Raising An Emotionally Intelligent Child: The Heart Of Parenting by Dr John Gottman. Otherwise, there’s a brief downloadable overview of the techniques here. Specifically for stepmothers wanting to learn about emotion coaching and much more, I love The Smart Stepmom; although it has a strong Christian focus and I am resolutely secular in outlook it was still incredibly useful.

What she said

Recently, I had what I call a “No shit, Sherlock!” moment.

The family therapist the Lovely Man and I see from time to time told us something I found so utterly, earthshakingly true that my heart just about halted while I sat like a dazed wombat trying to digest her words.

She said:

People think that when they end a relationship, the difficult or painful dynamics in that relationship will magically disappear. But they’re wrong.

If you were a chronic pleaser or controlled by your partner’s anger or avoided conflict or felt unable to say what you needed while you were a couple, that exact same way of relating will continue between you after you separate. Just with more grief, anger and bitterness in the mix.

Ummm, yeah. Yeah!!!

I have no idea why this had never occurred to me before. It seems so obvious.

What “leftover” dynamics do you find in your stepfamily?

Catching dreams

So, with just a couple of blips, my last week with the Boys turned out to be a good one.

I continued to focus on the strengths in my relationships with Boys B and C and to give Boy A lots and lots of space.

The younger Boys and I re-established our reading ritual and indulged our Ikea cinnamon buns for afternoon tea addiction and even broke new ground with some crafting.

To give background, Boy C quite often has nightmares, coming into our room frightened at two or three in the morning maybe twice a week.

(The Lovely Man, bless him, always gives him a cuddle and puts him back to bed, or sits with him in his room until he’s sleepy and comfortable, depending on how quickly he feels safe again. I love Boy C dearly, but am ecstatic that kids climbing into our bed is a by-invitation-only event.)

The morning after his first nightmare this visit, I asked Boy C about his bad dreams and the “bad thoughts” he often has before going to sleep. He described his dream, and I listened.

The I asked him what he thought would help him have better dreams.

He said that at his Mum’s he has a dreamcatcher and that he thinks it stops the bad dreams.

Specifically, little Mister Precise Young Scientist said:

Well, it probably isn’t really actually true magic, but it helps me feel good about going to sleep and then I have good dreams.

Fair enough.

I promised to buy him one, but the Lovely Man suggested that we make one instead.

Child of the Age of Googlearius that I am, the internet was mined pronto and spat forth reasonably simple instructions.

So I bought ingredients and, over a couple of afternoons, we set to work.

It was interesting observing my teaching style, and the different ways Boys B and C set about the various tasks.

I tried to use scaffolding, a set of teaching techniques where you show kids what they need to do for each stage and then let them do it, encouraging problem-solving along the way, thus building on their new skills step-by-step. They told me what they wanted help with and I played assistant to their creative directorship.

Boy C decided not to struggle through the traditional weaving technique to make the net pattern. Instead, he held the suede-covered ring and directed me precisely where to weave in each section of thread. His pattern turned out a bit chaotic but very effective.

Boy B was more hands-on and decided to make a starburst shape with his weaving. He also made plans to extend his dreamcatcher with a second, smaller ring hung from the main woven section.

Both Boy B and C chose headache-bright fluorescent feathers for the streaming tails of their dreamcatchers. Here is Boy C’s, photographed with my iPhone.

I was so impressed with how the Boys handled this project. Both of them showed a lot more patience with the process than I expected. They persisted, Boy B even completely rewinding the suede thonging around the ring to get a more even finish.

I felt really proud, too, when the Boys suggested that they would like to give the extra dreamcatcher I made as a trial run to my nephew, D, as a present from the two of them.

Seeing their catchers above their beds makes me smile; they hang as a momento of a time when we really enjoyed each other’s company.

__________________

It was interesting to watch Boy A’s reaction to my less engaged approach to him during the week.

He obviously noticed the difference; not because I was cold or nasty or left him out, but because I stopped seeking his approval and putting him front and centre, and so created less opportunities for him to demonstrate his feelings towards me.

My new choices made the situation much easier on me and even, I suspect, on him.

So, for instance, when I bought dreamcatcher materials I bought three sets, just in case Boy A wanted to be involved, but when I was setting up the crafting table I said to him, in a very low-key way:

There’s enough if you’d like to do one, too, Boy A, but I thought you probably wouldn’t.

He said:

No thanks, it’d be a bit….

and let the sentence trail off.

Previously, I would have been all:

Rah! Rah! I really want you to do one! It’ll be fun! I chose your favourite colour!

And his response would have been a much more direct and explicit rejection of me, the whole stupid idea and even, most likely, his suddenly-no-longer-favourite colour.

After all, as Wednesday Martin says in her (life-changing) book Stepmonster, for a child in a loyalty bind, the internal emotional pressures of feeling like they are betraying their mum can be exacerbated by a stepmum they find fun or warm or who seems to want to befriend them.

I’ve seen Boy A loosen up and obviously enjoy my company from time to time in the past; I’ve also seen him “snap-back” into highly rejecting behaviour afterwards, once he realised the terrible thing he had done what had happened.

Without my efforts to bridge the gap with him, he seemed more relaxed. I was more relaxed. There was even a funny moment where he was looking with interest at some nature pictures I’d emailed the Lovely Man – until he realised they came from me. The sudden change in his face was so comical that I said, very lightly:

Gosh, Boy A, it’s amazing how much cooler the animals in the pictures were before you heard that, hey?

He nodded, trying very hard to hold back a tiny wry grin, despite the almost audible siren of his inner voice wailing

DO NOT SHOW ENJOYMENT! DO NOT LIKE THIS WOMAN!

I think we both had a little inward chuckle at that.

Quite often in the past, my attempts to connect with Boy A have resulting in dismissive behaviour and even hurtful complaints about me to the Lovely Man. Certainly he was very much aware that I was trying hard to build a relationship with him, and in true loyalty bind fashion, the harder I tried the more he felt as though he had to demonstrate that he couldn’t possibly accept me.

This week, while it wasn’t suddenly happy families, at least we had something a lot closer to peace.

And in stepfamily terms, that’s almost a dream come true.

Another search string…

…. that showed up on my Google stats, included here just for interest’s sake.

stepmother fattening guy

I’m drawn to question whether a vengeful searcher looking for a guy who can fatten his or her stepmother? Or is it, perhaps, a girlfriend who wishes her man’s stepmum would ease up on the carbs at family mealtimes?

The searcher found, among other impressively off-point resources for his/her – ahem – unique problem, these posts. Which I’m sure were no help whatsoever, given that they popped up because I was threatening random insensitive members of the public with being fattened up for Sunday dinner!

What a timely reminder for me to be less aggressive in my choice of metaphors.

(Checking out the search strings that bring people to my blog has become an unexpected treat each day. I really shouldn’t giggle, though. For all I know this is a big, awful stepfamily drama for someone. So, if you are the reader entering the search terms above, this is definitely a case of sympathetic laughing with.)

A search….

An interesting search popped up in my blog stats today.

Some poor sod had Googled:

advice new stepmother psycho mom

They washed up at my recent post Five things to offer a new/soon-to-be stepmother.

Otherwise, all I can say is Welcome aboard, Ma’am. Please don the protective clothing provided and prepare for blast-off.

Focusing on the strengths – followup

The Lovely Man and I flew in to the Boys’ city yesterday, and all day I was feeling anxious about collecting them, about what they might do or say in the throes of Transition Fever that would be hurtful or rejecting.

I told the Lovely Man about the feeling, and he (accurately, I think) compared it to the trepidation he experiences when he has to see the Boys’ Mum, a kind of how will she make me feel bad today feeling.

At school pick-up time, I waited in our local after-school treat café for the Lovely Man to drop Boys B & C off, while he dashed away with Boy A for a doctor’s appointment.

To my surprise, the younger boys were really happy to see me!

Boy C broke into a huge smile – he has a gorgeous, wide toothy smile – and gave me a cuddle, saying that he’d missed me, and he and Boy B chattered happily with me all afternoon about their pets, their friends, their new teachers and their planned additions to the Hugest Most Ginormous Lego Collection in the southern hemisphere.

Last night at their bedtime, the Lovely Man hollered out that it was time for The Wind In The Willows, a nightly reading ritual I have with Boy C.

As I came in through the door, I overheard Boy C saying to the Lovely Man:

B is one of my very favourite…. umm…. not really parents, but people.

I got into bed with him to read, and after the Lovely Man left I said to him:

No, it’s not really quite like a parent thing, is it, cause you’ve already got a mum and dad.

He agreed that it was a bit different.

But you’re a very special boy to me, Boy C, and I love you a lot.

He put his arms around me and I kissed the top of his blond head.

Boy B came in and spent a few minutes hanging around pretending not to listen to the story, until eventually he crawled into in Boy C’s bed with us and I read The Wind In The Willows to them both.

It was a watershed day, and really nailed home to me that my new plan to focus on the good relationships in my stepfamily and not fret so much about the challenging ones has been the right choice.

Instead of worrying about Boy A’s completely predictable rejection, refusals to answer me, dismissive and negative comments and grumpiness, instead of struggling to engage with him and ending up feeling miserable and unwanted, I had a really fun evening playing with, reading to and hanging out with the younger boys.

Because I didn’t give Boy A the chance to disrespect me by trying to chat with him, offering to make him afternoon tea, asking about his day or any of the other attempts to connect that I usually make, his brothers didn’t have to watch him being rejecting toward me, which normally seems to induce a mini loyalty conflict in them, particularly for Boy B.

After all, if their older brother hates me and my “usurpation” of their Mum’s “rightful place” so much, it’s not going to be completely ok for them to like me. Understandable enough, I guess.

Interestingly, even Boy A was better this morning, volunteering several remarks in the car on the way to school that were not specifically about my manifold failings, obvious idiocy or poor choices of hometown, family or car.

It’s early in the week yet, and I’m sure there will be new pits to navigate before Friday,  but it’s such a relief to feel that we’re off to a good start and that the hazy blueprint I had mapped out in my mind before this trip has firmed up and taken shape into something reassuringly useful.

So, each day of this visit, I’m going to make an effort to do my self-care and to focus on my strengths.

What are the strengths in your stepfamily?

Adventures in Goo

So, I bought Boy B some green Gelli Baff as a Christmas stocking filler…

Boy C: B! B! You’ve gotta come in here and see the goo!

Me: Is everyone decent? (Knowing that Boy A and, increasingly, Boy B can be a bit bashful)

Boy C: Yes, but Boy B’s only got his t-shirt on. He says you can come in, though.

Me: Don’t worry, Boy B, I can’t see a thing.

Boy C: You can now! (pulling up Boy B’s shirt to expose his bare bum)

Me: That’s ok, Boy B, I’ve got one of those built-in editing things they have on the the TV. All I could see was a blurry section.

*************

Some time later…

Lovely Man: Boy B, if I can arrange the bathslime so that it’s visible on your back but your penis is completely hidden, can B come in and look at your scales?

*************

Boy C, to the tune of Walking On Sunshine, accompanied by actions to match:

I’m dancing on the toilet, oh-oh

I’m dancing on the toilet, uh-ha

I’m dancing on the toilet, woo-hoo

And don’t it feel good!

*************

Guess I’m back in the Kidhaus…

Five things to offer a new/soon-to-be stepmother

Recently a friend of mine (You know who you are, Miss A!) became involved with a great guy…. who has two young kids living with their mum in another country.

Now, I’m pretty open with my friends and family about the reality of stepparenting as I experience it. The last thing anyone needs when they are just getting into an exciting new romance, though, is a lot of warnings about this problem and that difficulty they may – or may not – encounter.

Remembering how starry-eyed (admittedly in a slightly anxious way) I was about the idea of the Lovely Man’s kids prior to meeting them (I love kids! Kids love me! They’re so cute! It’ll be fine!), and how unseemly I found the occasionally cynical comments of other more experienced stepparents, there might be a place for offering resources that will give a new stepmum something to draw on during the confusing early phases, but without overwhelming her with horror stories.

(It’s interesting that the process of becoming a new stepmum can perhaps be equated, in this respect if no other, to that of a first-time pregnancy. Ideally, you get support; more often, I gather, everyone wants to tell you their grisliest war stories!)

So, mindful of Stef’s great post 10 things to know about step-parenting, Jacquelyn Fletcher’s post on How To Be A Stepmom’s Friend and my own “What I Wish I Had Known” series, here are five practical, useful ways I think women who’ve “been there” could consider offering help to new stepmothers.

1. First up, be gentle!

Dr Patricia Papernow described the various stages of stepfamily development. Specifically relevant to new stepmothers is the first “fantasy” stage, driven by the expectation that everything will work out beautifully and the new family will be “just like” a nuclear family, full of love and rainbows and unicorns.

While this stage may be terribly unrealistic, it’s also the last chance some women will have for a while to feel really positive and hopeful about their stepfamilies, so personally I’m not going to go around bursting any bubbles. Chances are it will wear off soon enough!

Offer to be there to talk. Preferably without implying that you’re expecting any 3am panic calls.

2. If it hasn’t happened yet, encourage her not to put too much pressure on herself about the “big” first meeting with the kids.

Personally, I nearly drove myself over a precipice of stress and anticipation leading up to the first time I met the Boys and the Lovely Man was also extremely concerned about how it would all play out, so I internalised waaaay too much of an “end of the world” perfectionistic standard for the encounter.

More recent experience and confirmatory accounts from other stepmums have since shown me that the much-hyped first meeting isn’t usually that crucial. There’s often a bit of a honeymoon period in terms of the stepkids’ reactions to Dad’s new partner anyway, and for many kids it also seems to take a while to sink in that you’re there for the long haul.

So I would reassure women in this position not to beat themselves up too much about the first meeting. Barring accidents, it’s the meeting after that and after that and after that, i.e. once a comfort zone has been established, when any problems are most likely to show up.

3. A copy of Wednesday Martin’s Stepmonster, or your own favourite stepparenting book.

It’s probably best to avoid giving anything too gritty. I remember reading Cherie Burns’ Stepmotherhood early on and finding it painted stepmother reality in tones of panic-inducing darkness before I was ready to give up those charming fantasies of instant mutual love and appreciation. Or even to recognise that I had them.

Apparently, research shows women read twice as many books about stepfamily dynamics as men. There’s a good chance that a new stepmum will be really, really wanting to “get it right”; good books will at least give her a heads-up on what she might expect and how normal it is to feel [insert disconcerting emotion here].

4. A chatty email with links to a few online resources “just in case you’re interested”.

Maybe NOT to the sites that describe horrible knock-down, drag-out battles with an evil ex, though – more the supportive, resource-focused ones. Down the track sometime, Jacque Fletcher’s Stepmom Circles podcasts on a CD to listen to in the car or on her iPod might be a thoughtful gift.

You could also mention, in passing, a stepfamily course or group that you have found helpful. If the new stepmother is interested or becomes interested later, she’ll know to ask you for contact details.

5. Advice – or not?

As most of us have experienced firsthand, stepmothers tend to get overwhelmed by advice, most of which is pretty counterproductive.

“Act like an aunt.” “Don’t try to be their mother!” “Be a mother-figure.” “You’d better love them like your own!” “They’ll resent you forever – learn to deal with it.”

Role ambiguity, anyone?

To avoid advice-induced overwhelm, try to limit giving advice unless asked, maybe to a single idea you’ve found really useful.

(Note: However much you might be tempted, screeching “Run! Run like the wind!” won’t work and will just induce a sense of “I told you so” if hassles do arise down the track.)

As a fly-in, fly-out stepparent myself, the only advice I gave my friend was not to assume that because her new partner’s kids lived overseas they wouldn’t be a massive part of his and her day-to-day lives.

On the contrary, I’ve found that the kids are ever-present in our life as a couple. Which I guess would only come as a surprise to someone who doesn’t have kids themselves!

What would you offer a brand-new or soon-to-be-stepmother?

Self-Care Challenge – followup

One of the things that stop social networking being a useless timesuck, in my view, is finding ways to make the tools work with us to further our existing values and goals.

One value I am trying to live each day is supporting myself so that I can meet my goal to continue supporting my Lovely Man effectively in the care of his Boys.

So, with this goal and value in mind, I’ve decided to run my self-care diary on Twitter under the #self-care tag.

I’ll keep a paper diary as well, and may not tweet self-care every day, but one of the crucial lessons of this Self-Care Challenge was the importance of holding myself accountable by publicly committing to my self-care plans.

So if any stepmothers would like to join me by tweeting their self-care commitments, I’d love to have you along!