Help Haiti

Having seen first hand the amazing work World Vision does in India while visiting the young girl I sponsor there, I trust the organisation to use my donation effectively in Haiti.

World Vision has existing projects in Haiti, leaving them well-placed to know what is needed and where.

From the organisation’s website:

World Vision has been working in Haiti for more than 30 years and had 370 staff members in Port-au-Prince when the quake hit. Although World Vision’s office in the capital sustained significant damage, all staff were confirmed safe and are initiating a response to the devastation. Financial donations are urgently needed to continue and escalate this response.

Read more about World Vision’s response to the disaster, and how you can help here.

You can donate in $USD to the World Vision Haiti Earthquake Relief Fund.

For donations in $AUD, visit World Vision Australia’s Help Haiti Earthquake Appeal.

Feeling blamed

I’ve been following Peggy Nolan’s Self-Deception & Betrayal articles, particularly this one, drawing on the Arbinger Institute’s teachings, and thinking about how they relate to my life.

I’ve also been following the sometimes heated debate that’s arisen about the Arbinger concepts amongst a number of stepmother bloggers, including Nine Kinds of Crazy who, to distill their broader arguments, basically, seem to feel (please forgive me if I’m misunderstanding this) that the teachings can often seem to blame the stepmother for intractable conflict not of her making.

In another take on the debate, we have Jennifer at No One’s The Bitch, and her thoughtful post The Best Defence Is Some Ugly Truth.

It’s interesting, isn’t it?

It’s interesting to consider the idea that we’re functioning defensively so much of the time in our relationship with our stepkids’ mothers.

I know I am, at times, in denial of my own contributions, of how much the image of the Lovely Man’s ex as she exists in my head is made of a toxic papier mache of legal correspondence glued together with negative emotions.

I’m sure this caricature I’ve made of her isn’t how she is experienced by her friends, her neighbours, her family or (obviously) her children.

And it’s also interesting to see this debate as evidence of how ready stepmothers are to feel blamed for the dynamics in their families. Yes, they may bear some responsibility, but don’t we know that ultimately the way things are in a stepfamily is likely to have least to do with the stepmother?

And yet many stepmothers have felt blamed by the exercise. Maybe, just maybe, they’re not actually being paranoid or defensive.

Maybe they’ve actually become accustomed to being blamed – by their partners, their stepchildren, the ex-wife and the community more broadly.

Yes, powerlessness can be said to be a choice to some extent, even if only in a go-or-stay-in-the-marriage sense. But given how powerless so many of us feel as stepmums, perhaps it’s not surprising that we sometimes feel that a call to ‘take responsibility’ for what we feel utterly unable to change might seem like a case of blaming the victim.

(Please understand, I’m not saying the exercise ‘blames’ stepmothers. In itself, it’s neutral. I’m talking about the reaction I’ve seen many stepmums have recently to the Arbinger Institute concepts and tools.)

Personally, I’ve found the exercises a helpful reminder to look for my own contribution to stepfamily conflict. But I can easily see how that response might feel like an unattainable emotional luxury to a stepmum living in a warzone that she feels helpless to change.

(I really hope nothing in this post is problematic for any of the stepmom bloggers I’ve referenced. If anyone feels that I’ve misstated their views or misunderstood their materials, please let me know.)

Rights? What rights?

If ever you see a stepmum blogger get flamed in a comment, the commenter will generally include the phrase

You have NO RIGHT to…. [breathe/set boundaries/defend yourself against your stepson's jujitsu moves]!

Notice how these commenters always go on to tell horror stories about their own stepmums? While I’m sure there are some nasty wicked stepmother (stereo)types out there, I tend not to respond with a reflexive Oh, how awful! to these narratives since becoming a stepmum myself.

Waaaaay too often, the story is about an evil woman who forced Dad to move interstate, inserted her children into his family tree, stole the inheritance. And my question is always

OK, but where is the Dad’s responsibility in all this?

Please understand, I’m not suggesting that some of us haven’t had yucky experiences with stepparents. My own father had a stepmother who was apparently pretty revolting by all accounts, and the Lovely Man reports (ahem!) mixed experiences with both his stepparents as well.

But the aggressive rants about rights always intrigue me.

You’re not my mother! You’ve got no right to tell me what to do!

(Earth to kid: I. Pay. The. Mortgage. Here. So actually, I can insist that you take your plate up to the sink, if I want to.)

Us stepmums have no right to anything much, it sometimes seems. According to our stepkids, and to way too many adults as well.

In rebuttal, I offer the Stepmother’s Bill of Rights, courtesy of the Wicked Stepmom (aka The Original and The Best).

This was the very first piece of online stepmum wisdom I ever found, and it came at a time when I was absolutely desperate – thanks, Cate!

I’ve made some changes to reflect my insistence belief that you don’t have to be married to be a committed stepmum.

(And before the ranting starts anew, there is also a Stepchild’s Bill of Rights and a Bill of Rights for Children of Divorce.)

Stepmother’s Bill of Rights

1. I will be part of the decision-making process in my relationship and family at all times.

I’ve struggled more with this in the small than the big things – where will we go for dinner? rather than where are we going as a family?

2. People outside the immediate family – including ex-wives, in-laws and adult children – cannot make plans that affect my life without my consent.

3. I will not be responsible for the welfare of children for whom I can set no limits.

Initially I thought this meant I can’t guarantee to keep them safe if I can’t trust them to get off the highway when I ask. Increasingly, though, I’m taking it to mean I’m not babysitting children who don’t have to do as I tell them.

While the Lovely Man is good at pointedly delegating authority to me as needed, I do find the solo childcare aspect of stepparenting especially draining. Every request is a battle some days, with cries of It isn’t your house, it’s Daddy’s! and Why should I? Tell me why?! Why!!!!

Because I said so!

is the phrase that springs to mind here. As well as the juvenile but appealing:

It is my house, actually. And that’s my chair you’re sitting on to play PS3 on my television!

4. I must be consulted about which children will live with us, when they can visit and how long they will stay.

Cate found this one a source of discomfort, saying that she wouldn’t want her partner decreeing that her child couldn’t live with them if the situation was reversed. Fair enough; but I have a different take on it.

Agreeing to consult with a stepmum is not the same as giving her the power of veto.

I would expect to be consulted, and have my views taken seriously. In the absence of extreme circumstances, though (and I know many other stepmums out there have experienced “extreme circumstances” to the nth degree) I would not expect to have the final say all to myself.

5. I will not be solely responsible for housework; chores will be distributed fairly.

Still working on this one. As with most things, the Lovely Man makes a big effort. Unsurprisingly, though, the kids are resistant to doing regular chores.

Getting this happening on a consistent basis is my major stepfamily resolution for 2010. I dream of rosters and family meetings and star charts – I hope not in vain.

(Interestingly, a very negative Boy A today stated that even the chores at Mummy’s are better than here. Given that the Boys obviously contribute a lot more at her house, I’m choosing to see this as him giving us permission to up the ante.)

6. I will be consulted regarding all family financial matters.

This goes without saying, I hope and trust. Or for the most part, anyway – there have been a couple of times in the past when the Boys’ Mum has gotten under the Lovely Man’s skin with her poor me-ism and wangled money, but I don’t think that would happen now.

7. Others may not violate my private space at home, nor take or use my possessions without my permission.

This one hasn’t been an issue in my family so far, but I can imagine it would easily become so if we had the boys with us more in our city.

As it is, the last two-and-a-half weeks of three boys constantly communing with the Playstation in my loungeroom has left me feeling a bit space invaded, so to speak. Ultimately it’s about boundaries, I guess.

8. I will never be treated as an “outsider” in my own home.

Like most stepmums, especially those without children of our own, I often feel like an outsider in my home. But that’s different to being actively treated that way, like the woman Wednesday Martin wrote about whose stepchildren and husband acted as though she was invisible at mealtimes. Not fun.

9. My partner and stepchildren must treat me with respect.

I’ve only recently laid down the law about not making “fat bum”, “old witch” and “ugly old lady”-type comments. It was well past time, and I’m happier cracking down than trying to laugh it off with a tight, fixed smile like before.

10. Our partnership is our first priority, and we will address all issues together.

Yes! Yes! Yes!

I don’t think I need to say anymore…

What would your Bill of Rights include?

Thanks so much!

Dawnua Dawson over at Dawson Family has generously awarded my blog the Bonus Mom Badge.

Despite the name of my blog, I can’t claim to be the best stepmum around.

Just as an example, during this mornings’ hideous session with the family photographer, I felt like killing them each three times over, and Boy A has the major league sulks and is currently refusing to come out from under the house.

Like every stepmum/bonus mum I know, though, I give it my very best.

So thanks, Dawnua – it’s lovely to be acknowledged!

My stepfamily family

Recently I spent some time on the phone listening to a friend I met through stepfamily group unload about her incredibly complex family – nine kids between her and her partner.

(The collective gasp when they first introduced themselves and described their situation in the group was mostly politely stifled. K, if you’re reading this, I salute you!)

K described having nobody at all to talk to who could understand. No close family members, no friends in a similar situation, no knowledge (until I set her straight!) of the online stepmum community. Just her and her partner against the world.

It got me thinking, though, about how incredibly fortunate I am in having a family that these days is basically made of step.

Within two years my brother and sister and I all went from non-step to most definitely step.

In early 2008, I got together with my Lovely Man, we moved in together, and bought a house this year. He has three boy childers, alternatively the lights of my life and the bane of my existence.

In 2009 my wonderful sister married her own lovely man. He has a six-year-old daughter from his first marriage. She has a seven-year-old son, my sweet nephew, from her previous relationship. Their “ours” baby, another boy, is due in February.

In 2008 my younger brother got together with his beautiful partner, who has the two kids from her ended marriage about sixty percent of the time. After a brief and decisive adventure in Family Court, he also sees the two-year-old son he had with his ex every weekend and is going to be starting overnight visits in March.

The funny thing is that of all the exes, my sister’s former partner, who on paper would seem like the scariest worst possible prospect for harmonious co-parenting, has turned out best of all.

He has a nice girlfriend, both of them drop by my sister’s house quite happily to see my nephew and collect him for visits, the communication is reasonably unstrained and everyone respects him for the positive contribution he makes.

The other exes range from patchy to appalling in their attitudes and behaviour.

Our parents, still together after thirty-five years of marriage, have taken to stepgrandhood gracefully, welcoming the various broods and managing to remember everyone’s names and birthdays. I think they are occasionally a bit bemused by it all, but remain wonderfully supportive.

For myself, without my brother and especially my sister to talk to about step stuff, knowing they understand the unique pressures, the dramas and the constant, grinding conflict, I suspect I would have descended into insanity.

Nobody can calm me and get me thinking creatively about the situation with the Stepboys and their Mum and the Lovely Man better than my beautiful sister. Her mantra is:

Well, what can we do about that?

(As, incidentally, is my mantra with her when the situation is reversed and she can’t find her poise with two hands and a magnifying glass.)

Nobody encourages firm boundaries better than my brother:

That is Totally Not Acceptable behaviour. You gotta crack down on that!

Nobody listens to my awfulising more patiently than my parents until I’m ready to get back on deck.

Support is such a chancy concept for stepmums. Friends sometimes don’t get it. In-laws, as Nine Kind of Crazy notes, are not automatically behind the new family. Stereotypes abound and can make us reluctant to identify ourselves as being part of a stepfamily.

So I’m very, very lucky to have such a sensational support network.

But I wonder, in the absence of such a steppish family, who do other stepmums rely on for their support?

Hallelujah

I’m on my annual Christmas pilgrimage tonight, if seculites like myself can ever be said to pilgrimate.

(Yes, I know. Neologisms a specialty.)

Anyway, I’ve come to a church in town to hear Handel’s Messiah sung.

It’s become a ritual in the time I’ve lived here, a part of Christmas that means more to me than almost any other aspect of this season of the year.

Tonight, between the high level stepfamily stresses we’re going through just now and my own pain for the Lovely Man, currently under heavy fire from his boys, I’m hoping more than ever before that the balm of the warm evening will combine with the balm of the beautiful, joyous music to give me the grace I need to survive this Christmas.

May we all get the grace we need this Christmas, from whatever source we prefer to seek it.

…stepmothers might ride.

Thanks so much to everyone who commented on/linked to my last post listing the things I wish I’d known about the early days of stepfamily life when I was in the early days…

(What’s that? It still is the early days? Why do I feel 103, then?)

Here are a few more, this time specifically about settling into a relationship with a ready-made Dad.

The mantra the children come first is not a self-evident truth, however tempting it may be to chorus at every opportunity; it’s a destructive and dangerous idea if you actually want your second-family relationship to survive.

Check out my saviour Wednesday Martin’s article on When and Why You Shouldn’t Put The Kids First for more on this.

One of the common ways this seems to come out is when Dads make a point of showing how important the kids are by always popping the stepmum at the back of the queue.

Joel Schwartzber’s article on What Remarried Dads Owe Their Stepmom Wives talks about this stuff from the much rarer man’s perspective; like most stepfamily resources it assumes the couple are married, but I think applies just as well to any committed partnership with stepkids.

The Lovely Man and I still don’t always find a mutually agreeable balance of my/his/our/the kids’ needs, but things are getting better all the time.

Our biggest progress was when I stopped letting the Evil Mantra (“kids must come first! kids must come first!”) make me feel so guilty that I was silenced from asking for what I needed. He’s truly a Lovely Man, and he wants to help if only I let him know how!

You might not be the kids’ mum, but it’s often a good check-in of whether your partner is being fair to ask whether he’s treating you as if you were.

I don’t mean with respect to decision-making about the kids’ schools or braces or religion, but to general things, like when deciding where to go to dinner or whether to intervene if the children are misbehaving towards you.

These days, my (private) rule of thumb is that if he wouldn’t have behaved this way/allowed this behaviour to his ex-wife during their marriage, then it’s not right toward me either.

So, for example, if one of the boys made disrespectful comments about my family, I think:

Would he have let that go unchallenged if made in front of their Mum about their Mum’s family before the breakup?

If the answer’s no, then I expect him to sit on it, pronto.

Or if he decided what to do for a day out by asking the children’s opinions, agreeing to whatever they said, then saying to me in front of them: Is that ok with you?

Would he have followed this decision-making process with the boys’ Mum when they were married?

Of course not; in healthy first families, children might be consulted but ultimately adults make the decisions.

I’m pretty certain his ex-wife’s views were always genuinely canvassed and taken into account, not just given lip service in front of the kids so that she felt pressure to go along to avoid being the bad guy.

Doing this exercise really helps me sort out my boundaries and also identify when I’m the one being unreasonable. Oh yes, it happens!

You and your partner don’t have to endlessly turn the other cheek to serious untruths or distortions in the name of not dragging the kids into adult conflict.

After all, a lie is often accepted as truth when you don’t correct it, and lies of that kind are designed to often cause harm to the parent-child relationship.

It needs to be very skilfully and carefully done, though, and only when truly warranted. If the cross-talk is getting bad, Divorce Poison shows techniques for assessing whether it’s necessary to take action and, if so, how to address the stories.

(Of course, this is mostly up to Dads. But it’s still good to know.)

Your partner may know how to be a first family Dad, but he might need help to learn how to be a stepfamily Dad.

For Australian families, I can’t recommend the stepfamily course run by Relationships Australia highly enough.

Finally, like Nine Kinds of Crazy said on the same topic, try to make sure you get time with your partner without the kids.

You’ll be a much saner happier bunny for it, and more able to enjoy the kids and your own Lovely Man!

Stepmum Tragic

Recently, I was described, to my face, as a tragedy.

Not a way I’ve tended to think of myself before.

Arms, legs, faculties: Check!

Free of serious injuries or ailments: Check!

Immediate family members intact: Check!

Nope, nothing tragic about this life. In fact, I tend to think that it’s (mostly) pretty damn fine.

Beloved boyfriend, dear friends, fabulous family, occasionally troublesome but affectionately regarded stepsons all in place. It’s not a cakewalk (what IS a cakewalk?) but I enjoy it thoroughly and regularly.

But no, my life, and specifically my family, is tragic.

Hummm.

The person who made the comment about stepfamilies being tragic should know better. She’s a stepmother herself, and a member of the Lovely Man’s extended family.

I wonder if she thinks the kids she had with her husband are a tragedy, seeing that they are part of a stepfamily? Is she a tragedy?

Now, I’m not denying that my stepboys often feel grief that their mum and dad separated, and, by extension, that I’m now in their lives as the Lovely Man’s partner.

One loves me, one likes me, and one struggles to like me and not like me at the same time. And I know that if they could push a magic button and go back to the way they thought things were before, they would.

We have fun together. We laugh. Last visit we decorated the Christmas tree together. I baked them gingerbread moose biscuits (of which more later). We went to the zoo and tried to outdo each other in the authenticity of our flamingo calls.

We’re not perfect; all five of us have our different sadnesses at the situation.

But. We. Are. Not. Tragic.

Got it?

Good.

Stepmummery

Well, here I be!

This blog has been simmering for a while; but 1 December seems a good time to take up the cauldron.

To introduce myself and my (occasionally reluctant) family:

Me, early 30s, no kids of my own, living in subtropical Australia (but I’m guessing the step m.u.m. spelling might have given a hint there!)

Partnered nearly two years with my lovely man, The Lovely Man.

And thereby playing stepmum to his personal Aryan Horde -

Boy A, 11. Very smart, very blond.

Boy B, 9. Also very smart and only slightly less blond, and

Boy C, 7. Very smart, very blond, very cheeky.

Are you getting the picture of cookie-cutter children, at all? The Lovely Man always says My ex-wife and I decided not to worry about paternity testing. They look so much like him that it’s sometimes a little disturbing.

Like lots of stepmum bloggers, I need to be paranoid careful about identifying the people in my family, so I’ll be walking a bit of a fine line/garden path to find the right balance.

I’ll see where it all goes, but my idea isn’t to drag readers into a step-by-step blow-by-blow, but to use some of the incidents and accidents of my stepfamily life, as well as the many, many step-blogs and step-manuals I read, to reflect on what this crazy, erffed-up job of helping to raise somebody else’s kids is really about.

Anyway, we’ll see!