Quote for the Day: Guilt

“Guilt is [a] menacing emotion [in remarriage and stepfamily life]. Whether it relates to decisions you made or circumstances your children have been forced to endure through no fault of your own, guilt is debilitating if we allow it to be.

For example, parents who think their children “have suffered enough” frequently loosen their discipline and lower their expectations for proper behaviour. This simply teaches children that acting mad, depressed, or hurt gives them license to get their way.

While we must be sensitive to children’s emotions, we should not fall victim to them. Boundaries need to be firm and expectations maintained.”

From The Smart Step-Family by Ron L. Deal, 2006 edition, pp. 178-179.* (Paragraphs and emphasis mine.)

Probably there’s not a stepmother alive who hasn’t seen parental guilt acted out in her stepfamily. The ramifications of guilt can be very toxic and spread outwards from the person feeling guilty in many directions.

It’s easy to assume that the biological parent in the stepfamily is the one with an exclusive on guilty behaviour, but I am noticing more and more that I routinely “put up” with situations that are unacceptable to me without flagging that my boundaries have been breached because I feel guilty about “rocking the boat”, or as though my comfort level is less important than that of others in the family.

Then, of course, I also get to feel guilty when those unexpressed boundaries “leak out” in a way that is less than optimal. So I’m getting TWICE the value on my guilty feelings…. tops!

I know that the ultimate solution is to learn to express my boundaries clearly and healthily; it’s a slow process, though, and one that is only just beginning.

How does guilt impact on your stepfamily?

* I love this book, and also own the companion book The Smart Stepmom, reviewed here at The Stepmom’s Tool Box. Ron Deal is incredibly insightful about stepfamilies and his books are full of practical advice. Please be aware, though, that his books are firmly faith-based. I’m an agnostic and find the Biblical emphasis manageable; this might be different for other non-religious or non-Christian people.

Search string #53861

I do get a giggle or twenty from the search strings that pop up in my WordPress statistics from time to time.

Lately I’ve seen the usual sorts of stuff:

step mum of the year,

stepmother disengage toaster – presumably someone looking for Sherri’s Disengagement post at Too Many Toasters,

stepford stepmother - which washed up at my Stepmother Mantras post,

loyalty binds in divorce,

meeting your ex husbands new partner etc etc etc

All pretty standard, wouldn’t you say?

Until today, when I found THIS!

“sample house rules for religious stepfamily camping”

Ummm.

Sorry people. You’ve definitely come to the wrong coven.

Deesha Philyaw, crazy schedules and humble pie

I have an assignment due.

(Because my MacBook is actually magic, I can hear what you’re thinking right now – yes, I am procrastinating.)

So rather than do the responsible student thing and not post at all, here are a few links that I’ve enjoyed mightily of late.

I’ve followed Deesha Philyaw‘s writing ever since I found her on Twitter; she’s funny, insightful, and writes brilliantly and honestly about co-parenting/stepparenting from an insider’s perspective.

What I didn’t realise until recently, though, was that her stepfamily life is even more complicated than mine and the Lovely Man’s. In fact, by comparison with Deesha we are pathetic little grizzlers who really need to pull our big girl panties up.

In other news, over the last couple of weeks, I’ve had conversations with two recently separated friends who each declared (slightly defensively, knowing that I am a stepmum myself) that they are NOT going to be “That Kind of Ex-Wife”. Fingers crossed they will both be able to tame their fieryness enough to negotiate the forthcoming challenges in that department…

I’m not going to email either of them The Elmira Gulch Chronicles, Or: How Not To Be THAT Ex-Wife. But I’m tempted. After all, it turns The Wizard Of Oz movie, that foundation stone of all childhood entertainment, into a teachable moment – what’s not to love?

A safer bet might be What To Get The Divorced Parent Who Has Half Of Everything. They’ll be much more likely to giggle than slap me, hopefully.

Finally, I’ve been contemplating writing a follow-up post to a recent article of Peggy Nolan’s about making mistakes as a stepmother.

I’ve made a few stepmum mistakes of my own recently, one of which memorably and terrifyingly – hell, it was a true “worst nightmare” moment – involved sending the wrong person the wrong email…

In general, though, learning where and when to take responsibility (and where not to!) is something I’m working on. I may still write the post sometime soon. Meanwhile, though, if you haven’t read Peggy’s article Eating Humble Pie at The Stepmom’s Tool Box I really, really recommend it.

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

Stepmother mantras

Reading this post from stepmama metamorphoses (who has been so inspiring as she works through the process of stepping back from her husband’s ex’s dramas) as well as Sherri’s weekly affirmations at Too Many Toasters, I got thinking about the unspoken mantras that help me cope with the Boys and their Mum when things aren’t going so well.

The first is something I remind myself before every visit to or from the children.

How this goes is up to me.

Obviously, I can’t control what happens during our time with the kids. But I find that my sense of satisfaction is almost entirely linked to how well I feel I respond when challenges come up (and there are always challenges!).

So, for me, it works to remind myself that success, in these terms, is actually something I can control.

Boy A can be as sullen or even as actively rejecting as he likes, the other Boys can be behaving like orangutans on stimulants, the Lovely Man can be grumpy or tired or shut in the office, but if I manage my responses/reactions in a way I’m happy with I can still feel like I’ve done well.

What this involves has varied over time; it used to be that my benchmark was “keep your mouth shut and keep smiling” but increasingly, and with the help of our counsellor, I’m recognising that it’s more important to be authentic and voice my concerns and boundaries than to be a perfect Stepford Stepmum.

The second and third mantras are questions I ask myself.

What is this person really saying here?

This helps me to listen for the true interests and concerns buried in another persons’ words or actions, and hopefully to address those directly rather than get distracted by the emotions or information that we all sometimes use to “top-dress” our communications, for whatever reason.

And finally,

What is my truth here and how can I speak it?

This has been a big barrier for me. As much as I say I believe I matter in this family, I have tended to not speak up about things that bother me or assert my boundaries, mostly through not wanting to burden the Lovely Man or create extra drama, or through fear of nagging and criticising.

What I’ve found, though, is that one way or another the stress comes out.

And it’s better for me to clearly say how things are for me as they arise and ask for what I need than to have a sobbing conniption at 10pm ostensibly because the Lovely Man is late home from work.

So, when Boy A next tells me or says in front of me, for what feels like the eleventy-billionth time, that his Mum is very intelligent, instead of just repeating “Yes, I know” like an automaton I can hopefully say something like:

Yes, I know she is, Boy A. You’ve said that before. It’s great that you’re proud of your mum, but I’m not sure why you think it’s important to be telling me this?

(As suggested by our counsellor, who says it’s time to for me to start insisting on respectful boundaries in these situations, as opposed to my previous style of just putting up with any old shit in the name of being positive about the Boys’ Mum.)

And while it’s not exactly a mantra, I’ve found in general that waiting to respond to something that is upsetting until I’ve taken time to think about it from the perspective of the other people involved makes me a lot less likely to react in anger or out of pain.

As well, I’ve learned to be watchful about getting dragged down into a spiral of negativity. When I find myself making negative comments or statements about the Lovely Man’s ex or the situation generally to people, then feeling bad or disloyal about what I’ve said, it’s a cue that I need to address my underlying unhappiness, and usually, that there’s something I’m not speaking up about.

What mantras and reminders do you use to get through?

Under the surface

On our overseas trip earlier this year, the Lovely Man and I met up with some friends, a couple who’ve been together about the same length of time as us, F & G.

Like us, they are a few years apart in age.

The guy, F, works in the same industry as the Lovely Man, so they have a lot in common there.

We all share some interests, but although we’ve been on holiday with them before, I’ve never felt that I knew them very well – they were really nice acquaintances rather than close friends.

When we met up with them this time, I went to give G a hug hello and immediately noticed a stonking great rock on her engagement finger. This thing was MASSIVE – when it glittered in the light I felt like I had been beamed, in a kind of “roo in the headlights” way. But it was very beautiful and tasteful. Exquisite, in fact.

I immediately thought:

Aha! Got an announcement to make then, guys?

And, sure enough, a few minutes of my valiantly trying to avert my gaze into the conversation, they kind of wriggled a bit bashfully and went pink and said:

Oh, and we’ve got some news, by the way. We got engaged!

No shit, Sherlock.

G was obviously a bit self-conscious about her new bling but very happy to relate the story of how F had smuggled the ring into his holiday backpack by completely wrapping it in gaffer tape and telling her it was a piece of work equipment he needed to claim a duty refund on while they were out of the country.

They are lovely people, and I really enjoyed spending time with them. But I couldn’t help thinking, looking at G’s husband-to-be and her happiness, that I wished things could have been so straightforward for me and the Lovely Man.

I never imagined, for instance, that well over two years into our relationship, he would still legally be married to somebody else.

As pleased as I was for my friends, it was all too easy to feel a bit wistful by comparison.

One day, though, the Great Blokey Men went off to do Death-Defying Man Stuff together and so G and I headed out to get lost on the mountain have some adventures ourselves.

We were talking about her relationship with F, as you do, and how happy she was, and how great he was, and how they were thinking of having kids soon, and where they were going to go for their honeymoon… when she totally dropped a bomb.

Haltingly, she told me a story that made me quadruple-take and completely cash in my assumptions about their so-called easy road.

While F may not have kids from a previous relationship, perhaps even more bogglingly, he “co-parents” three dogs with his ex-partner of ten years.

Whoa!

As it all came out – the crazy ex, the way she wanders into their house uninvited, the unscheduled late-night handovers, how she uses the dogs to stay connected to his life, F’s inability to set firm boundaries, the huge amounts of money she guilts out of F for “the dogs”, the way she phones constantly and manufactures dog drama to get attention, the threats to take the dogs away and never let F see them again that paralyse him with fear – all I could think was:

That sounds about right.

G went on to say how the situation had driven her to the edge of her mind, the constant encroachments and feeling second in her relationship to a trio of spoilt dogs and a vindictive, crazy-making ex eventually landing her in counselling.

She said that her friends and family couldn’t really understand, that they tended to minimise the difficulties of the situation and say totally unhelpful things like:

Can’t you just ignore it?

G even said that she felt terribly guilty at not being able to love these dogs that were so important to F.

Yep, sounds about right.

I guess co-parenting drama is co-parenting drama whether the young ‘uns involved have feathers, fur, fins or feet.

And as much as I love dogs, I can understand G feeling ripped off that despite F not even having kids she is still experiencing the joys of stepfamily life, navigating unbreakable ties formed before she was around and dealing with a trouble-making, boundary-free ex with a penchant for encroachment and manipulation.

At least the Lovely Man’s Boys are worth the dramas. I’d have a VERY hard time if we were going through all that for a trio of naughty, floor-weeing canines.

G was clearly relieved to share her situation with someone who all-too-easily understood the emotional toll it was taking, while I got a timely lesson in the grass not always being quite as green as it looks.

And, incidentally, for the first time I felt like we made an emotional connection that went beyond just doing stuff together.

We’ll be going to their wedding sometime next year. I’ll be looking out for something like this:

Star-crossed lovers?

One night during our recent Easter holiday with the Boys at my parents’ beach shack, the Lovely Man decided it would be fun to take them out for a traditional country-town Chinese meal, complete with lurid plum sauce and deep-fried everything.

As we drove back home through the darkness to the shack, honey chicken and sundry culinary delights gurgling in our tummies, Boy C piped up from the backseat:

Boy C: Do you know, Daddy, I think you and Mummy would make a really, really good couple. Like, with each other, you know?

Stunned silence from the front seat. The Lovely Man and I both, independently, decided against turning around and saying something like: “Actually, Mummy finally signed the divorce papers this week, so… nuh. Not going to happen.”

The Lovely Man squeezed my hand in the darkness as Boy C continued.

Boy C: Yeah, it would be perfect because you’re just like Harry Potter’s dad and mum, you’d be so well suited together.

More mute gulping from the front seat. Luckily Boy C didn’t seem to want an answer.

Boy C: They’d be a great couple, because, you see, Mummy’s so intelligent, just like Lily Potter and Dad’s so… ummm… so…

Boy B: Active! Dad’s really active, just like Harry’s dad! And they got together and had us, just like Harry’s parents had him.

(For the record, the Lovely Man is devastatingly smart. And the Boys’ Mum was apparently always a bit intimidated by that, despite being no slouch herself. The Boys, especially Boy A, often seem to feel compelled to insist to me how Very Intelligent she is, despite me never, ever saying a word about it or bringing up the issue of intelligence, of anyone, at all, ever.)

Boy A: What do you mean? Dad’s quite intelligent too, you know!

What came through very strongly from this conversation was that the Boys have a need to see the story of their parents’ marriage as special, almost mythic, within the family history. They need a love story, a sense of themselves as part of the family destiny. The divorce hasn’t altered that need; now the mythic love story they tell is just a little more star-crossed.

Harry and James Potter had their son, Harry, and were happily in love until the evil Voldemort killed them.

The Lovely Man and the Boys’ Mum had their three beautiful sons and were happily in love until the Evil Divorce Monster fell out of a clear blue sky and broke up their marriage.

(I could go further and add that Boy A, at least, identifies me directly with the Evil Divorce Monster.)

I can understand the Boys needing this sort of emotional family architecture to provide an account by which they can understand their existence. After all, if the way you see your parents’ marriage is that they were ill-suited and a bad match and their marriage was a mistake, then presumably in kid-magical-thinking terms, that makes you, their children, mistakes that should never have been made.

Then, of course, there are the obvious reconciliation fantasies at work in this little vignette. Those go without saying.

Fair enough.

One thing I never, ever, expected to experience in my stepfamily, though, was sitting in the front seat of the car while my stepchildren openly attempted to matchmake their parents based on the Harry Potter novels from the back seat.

How do your stepchildren think and talk about their parents’ marriage?

How do you and/or your partner respond when it comes up?

What’s the most unexpected thing your stepkids have ever come up with?

Stepfamily one-liners

Inspired by The Smirking Cat, I’ve been reflecting again about the shirty things people say over-and-over to stepparents (and separated parents).

When members of The Great Ignorant spit these babies out, I’m generally too befuddled and irritated to come up with a snappy response. More snappy than “Arrrh. Errrh. Ummm?” that is.

So in true Girl Scout spirit, here are a few sample one-liner responses for stepfamily FAQs.

“Don’t you forget you’re not their mother, will you?!”

Hmmm, d’you know, I think you must be right about that. I’m sure I’d remember giving birth to them. So I mustn’t be their Mum after all. Wow.

Or

It’s probably too late to do much about it at this point. If I tried giving birth to them now, firstly, they’re a bit big and secondly I’m not sure they’d be into it.

******

“Wow, an instant family! Aren’t you lucky!”

Well, that depends. You can’t knit a cake, I find.

(I love the total randomness of that one.)

******

“How can you stand to live so far from your kids?”

So you’d describe yourself as being in favour of kidnapping them?

******

And, finally, my absolute favourite:

“So, are you planning to have kids of your own?”

We’re exploring all orifices at present.

Although I must relay thanks to Peggy at The Stepmom’s Toolbox for her slightly less confronting suggestion:

“Waiter, another martini please!”

******

Share the giggles: do you have any Fantasy Family One-Liners? Have you ever used them?

House Rules – final version

House Rules

Words

We speak courteously and respectfully.

No running each other down.

We call people only what they want to be called.

When somebody’s talking to us, we listen and don’t interrupt.

We say please and thank you.

Actions

Adults and kids from this house do not hit, bully or hurt others.

Limit rough play and stop when asked.

We respect others’ things by asking permission.

We respect others’ privacy by knocking on closed doors before entering.

If you don’t agree with an adult, you can ask for an explanation, but once you’ve heard it you have to do what you’re asked without arguing.

***********

So, the moment day of truth arrived this morning for our new house rules.

I agree with commenters that the list was too long – it still is, really – but quite a few of the items have shown themselves specifically necessary.

“Calling people only what we want to be called”, for instance, started because of me – I tend to give people affectionate nicknames and the older boys (in consultation with their Mum, I gather) decided they hated being called anything but garden-variety Boy A and Boy B and asked for this rule to be included. Fair enough, and of course, it works both ways; they can’t so readily call me fat, ugly, “a stupid old granny” etc etc etc after insisting on its inclusion.

The listening/not interrupting rule was a shoe-in – the Boys tend to keep their heads in their books for the first seventeen several repetitions of anything they don’t want to hear. Plus Boy A is already an accomplished verbal swordsmith. Woe, the upcoming teen years…

And after this morning’s numerous unannounced entries into our bedroom, including one featuring me sitting naked on the bed, I’m going to begin Phase: Enforcement on the “knock before entering” rule bright and early tomorrow.

Post tonight’s dinner of Butter Chicken, which saw discussion followed by unauthorised demonstrations of “how Indian people eat with their hands”, I’m wishing I’d lobbied for a table manners rule. Or at least a “We willingly crawl around picking up under-table food debris after each meal” rule.

Do you have a feeling that things are going to get interesting from here?

Draft house rules – your thoughts, please!

Thanks for all your input – it’s really helpful to know that I’m not developing into some controlling psycho-Nazi with a penchant for making the Boys stand at attention while singing a family anthem of my own composition each morning.

Here is the version I whittled down from the original novel-length document. I’d appreciate any input before attempting to plaster this lot to the fridge:

House Rules

Words

We speak courteously and respectfully.

No running each other down – opinions, actions, creative acts, cooking, etc.

We call people only what they want to be called.

No swearing or violent language.

When somebody’s talking to us, we listen and don’t interrupt.

We say please and thank you, and appreciate what people do for us.

We don’t whinge – we express our feelings but not over and over.

If we feel sad or angry, we say so, which helps us and others.

If someone has annoyed or upset us, we talk about it with that person.

Actions

Adults and kids from this house do not hit, bully or hurt others.

Limit violent play and stop when asked. Play gun games only with people who are playing gun games with you.

We respect others’ things by asking permission.

We respect others’ privacy by knocking on closed doors before entering.

If you don’t agree with an adult, you can ask for an explanation, but once you’ve heard it you have to do what you’re asked without arguing.

What happens when we break the rules:

• mild warning
• firm warning
• “I’m getting angry”
• punishment – withholding of a privilege, or withdrawal from the group

Bedtimes

Boy A – in bed by 9.30pm.

Boys B and C – in bed by 8.30.

Boy Jobs

• School bags and lunchboxes are put away as soon as we come home.

• We tidy away our rubbish – wrappers, apple cores etc – soon after making it.

• We put our plates, cups and cutlery in the dishwasher after meals.

• We keep the bathroom tidy – hanging towels, keeping toothbrushes tidy.

• We keep our bedrooms tidy – straighten beds, pick up clothes and toys.

• We flush the toilet and we turn the fan off.

• Our shoes live on the rack in the hall.

• We put toys, comics, books and stationery away before moving on to a new task.

• When the recycling bin is full we empty it into the big yellow-topped bin in the driveway.

We may need reminders to do the things on this list. If we remember without being asked, we will get Treat Points. And a lot of appreciation.

**********

I’m not sure about the Treat Points idea in the last paragraph? The Lovely Man originally wrote:

Often we will need to be reminded to do the things in the job list, and that’s OK. If we can remember to do them without being asked, that’s best of all.  If we are asked, we just do the chore.  If we do this stuff as we go, chore cards [an occasional chore blitz we do where the Boys choose from a pile of face-down cards with short jobs written on them] are really easy.

Personally, I felt that this paragraph just gave the Boys a free ride not to even try to do the jobs on the list without being reminded. I’m not sure if the Treat Points idea will work, but still….

What is your take on this brand-new, first-time beginners house rules list?

Too long? Too short? Too woolly? Too complex? Or just right? What would you do differently?

Making rules…

…but for pity’s sake don’t even think of calling them “family rules”! I can almost hear the reaction now, echoed back from eleventy million step households: “You’re not my family and you don’t make rules for me!”

[Sarcasm switches off]

Anyway, the Boys arrive tomorrow and I’ve been attempting to negotiate our first formalised set of house rules with the Lovely Man.

Rules and boundaries generally seem to be touchy topics and getting to this point has taken ages; the first time I raised the idea of house rules was nearly eighteen months ago! Even talking about it has been delicate, particularly the bit about introducing set bedtimes.

I gather that lots of separated parents, and especially dads, really struggle with firming up on boundaries for their kids. One blog I particularly remember described a dad saying to his wife, the stepmother of his two children, that he was “OK with having rules but not comfortable with there being consequences”.

And doesn’t THAT sounds like a hiding to nothing and nowhere for the unfortunate stepmother trying to get some kind of grip on the behaviour of the kids in her house?

The more superficial stepparenting books suggest that it’s a bad idea to “assume” an authority figure role with your stepkids, but I’m convinced those authors must have full-time nannies at their disposal. If not, there will be situations when the stepparent is forced to be the adult in charge and needs to direct the kids in some way. I try to minimise it, but basically, if the Lovely Man wants to work while we have the Boys, it’s inevitable that I have to step up from Wingman to Maverick status sometimes.

I described being an adult in charge in our hitherto (mostly) “rule-free” house to the Lovely Man as “a bit like trying to herd lobsters underwater”. That’s right, I think it’s harder than herding cats.

Not being one of the Boys’ parents, I don’t have natural authority with them, other than a little with Boy C perhaps. And yet there are many times when I need them to do what I ask, like when I’m doing the school run, when they’re hurting each other, or when I can’t in good conscience do one more speck of cleaning up without them contributing.

And those times are when I hit a brick wall, because without either (a) the natural authority that blood parents take so much for granted OR  (b) clear house rules fully backed by the Lovely Man, I often may as well sing to whales as expect the Boys to obey me.

So, rules are good. Ultimately, of course, they’re at least as necessary to our stepkids as they are to us. Our stepfamily psychologist reminds me that rules help stepkids feel that they actually live a normal life with their other parent, rather than just being occasional visitors. And that despite the whingeing, that sense of normality, of having a place and a role, is something children of divorce crave.

BUT…

Whether it’s about Dads wanting to avoid being the bad guy, feeling afraid of losing the “popularity contest” to a more permissive mother or just wanting their limited time with the kids to be all fun-fun-fun, it seems that setting and enforcing even simple rules is a fraught process in many stepfamilies.

So far the Lovely Man’s and my rules list is running to about four pages and is full of fluffy abstract concepts. Not exactly a collection of snappy ideas that I’d choose to post on the fridge, then.

It needs whittling big time. Like with a chainsaw.

So I’m wondering:

Do you have specific house rules in your stepfamily?

If so, what are they?

And how did they get put in place?