Casting shadows

I recently received a question from Vicki about being stepmother to children whose mother has died, and her words got me thinking.

While it is tempting to imagine that stepparenting would be a whole lot easier without the deep shadow a hostile mother can cast over your stepfamily, there are obviously difficult issues specific to partnering a widower with children that cast their own shadows.

Information specific to what is now an “alternative” stepfamily situation seems to be limited in stepfamily literature and resources; ironically even fifty years ago when divorce was still relatively rare but medical science so much less effective at dealing with illness, disease and accidents, stepfamilies were probably much more likely to be formed as a result of death than divorce.

Sadly, in the face of more recent social shifts, wisdom about stepfamilies formed following the death of a parent seems to have been overshadowed by resources focused on dealing with typical post-divorce stepfamily issues such as extended family conflict, parental alienation, and the day-to-day challenges of parenting across two households.

Anyway, I had a couple of ideas, but thought it might be more helpful to turn Vicki’s question over to the stepmother hive mind.

Here’s Vicki’s question:

Stepmumoftheyear…

Have you heard from anyone who has experience with step children whose mum died of cancer?

This is my situation, so I do not have the “other mother” involved. I do, however, know they resent me and my involvement in the house and their lives. Now I deal with them watching home videos of the “first” family, and having them resent me because I’m not her. I do not watch the movies because I don’t want to be sucked into that old life of theirs. My husband lets them watch these videos, out of our presence.

The older one is quietly angry because she knew her mother and must do without her. The younger one just thinks life would be better if her mum were alive…mum would do all the things for her I don’t do, but make her do (cleaning room, two days of loading dishwasher, emptying two wastebaskets…on a schedule, not at 10:30 pm)

I read much about step families with the biological mother involved, good or bad, but not with a deceased biomum. The girls are 20 and 15, and both resent me. My husband is wonderful! Works so hard to make everyone happy…and he loves me so. (Our sweet comment to each other is that I say I love him more than he loves me. He says not so…that he loves me more than that.) After four years of marriage, I am finally learning to “keep my mouth shut” and not knit-pick, tattle, or criticize. I try so hard to let my husband find the not-done chores and spilled drink on the floor. He, then, can deal.

Is there any word out there about this?

Does anyone have any suggestions or input about stepparenting bereaved children (whether or not from your personal experience…)?

Disengaging

Disengaging is not a new concept in step-land.

But it was new to me when I first came across some articles a few months back.

At that time, I was trying trying trying to get the Lovely Man’s kids, and especially Boy A, to like me.

There were thoughtful little gifts, special efforts to make their favourite foods, questions about their interests and opinions.

Boy B was mostly ok, though he was wary and occasionally rejecting. The day I overheard him tell Boy A that he hated me I went into our bedroom and cried.

Boy C was, as ever, fun and funny to be around, offering me a level of mostly unconditional trust and pleasure at our friendship that felt like it was all that was getting me through.

Boy A, though, was really letting rip. Everything I did was stupid, he felt free to criticise my appearance, my cooking, my family. The sighs of disdain rang out and the eyes rolled and his gaze and ears were always averted from me. He actively sought to exclude me and tried to build alliances with the Lovely Man against me.

My poor sister used to patiently hear out my venting and say:

B, you’ve got to stop trying so hard! Just ignore him if he’s being nasty.

That was her approach with her own (heavily alienated) stepdaughter, and she found there was less pressure on them both.

But me? I Wasn’t Giving Up.

But then, after a particularly awful visit, I came across the disengaging concept.

Here’s the classic piece about The Disengaged Stepparent.

And Help! My Wife is Disengaged, an article aimed at men with frustrated stepparent partners.

And finally, Disengaging Made Easy.

(A lie, I’m afraid. It’s not actually easy. But it’s easier than the alternative!)

I didn’t follow the suggestions exactly.

I haven’t refused to do laundry, or made any big announcements. I will if I need to, though.

Here’s what I now do differently:

I’ve mostly given up cooking for the Boys.

It was causing me way too much grief to have my nice meals rudely rejected, so mostly I allow the Lovely Man make the dinners. If I do cook, it’s something their Dad makes that they’ve had a million times before, or a dessert that they’ve eaten in the past and liked. School lunches, when I make them, are exactly what they had the previous day.

The best thing? I’m not giving anyone a hook to hang their loyalty issues or desire to reject me on.

I now almost never buy little treats or presents for the Boys.

I liked doing it, but I didn’t like being expected to do it or not being thanked, so I stopped.

If, for instance, I decide to go to the fancy deli to buy Boy A’s favourite gourmet jam so he has an extra breakfast option, I don’t mention it, or I let him think the Lovely Man bought it.

It’s not that I don’t want to do nice things for the Boys – I do – it’s that I don’t want the stress of being unhappy with the way they choose to react, or to add to the “pity spoiling” they already get from other family members.

Instead, I aim to be completely present in the time I spend with them, whether that’s wrestling on the floor or helping with their homework.

I play with Boys B and C and hang out when and as much as I feel like.

Generally, we have a play session each day, but if I feel like staying in my bedroom with a book, then I do it without feeling guilty.

And because I’m actually enjoying the time I spend with the younger Boys rather than forcing it, we have more fun. They beg me to come and play now.

I no longer try to include Boy A. He’d be welcome if he wanted to join in, but he never does and I don’t mind at all.

I try to do what I say I will rather than “give in” to be popular.

So last visit I told the Boys they could choose a treat for two days of smooth morning school runs. If both mornings hadn’t ended being smooth, they would not have gotten their treat.

I tell Boy C exactly what time I will read until in the evenings, and it is his job to be in his PJs and in bed with clean teeth before that time. The longer he takes getting ready, the shorter his reading time. I don’t give in to cries of “just a few more minutes!”

Because I said I wouldn’t, that’s why. And I want them to know that I can’t be swayed by begging, pouting or bad behaviour.

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

Ironically, I’m both happier in myself and more popular with the Boys as a result of my decision to disengage.

There are different approaches to disengaging as a stepparent. Depending on the situation, it may not need to be full-scale, on-strike, you’re-hitchhiking-to-school revolution. But I bet there’s a few things in almost every stepmother’s life that might benefit from a strategic disengagement.

What do you disengage from in your stepfamily?

What could you disengage from?

Divided loyalties

Loyalty conflicts are perhaps the key to the challenging nature of life in a stepfamily.

Loyalty binds of various kinds for kids, a sense of loyalty imbalanced or even betrayed for step-parents, divided loyalties for repartnered parents.

Recently, I read a superb description of the problematic but central role of loyalty in stepfamily life in an article by therapist William J. Doherty, originally published in the Family Therapy Networker, May/June, 1999, pp. 32-38, 54.

Given recent posts on Wednesday Martin’s blog, and subsequent discussion in the comments, about the importance of finding a therapist who is knowledgeable about stepfamily dynamics, I found this article particularly topical.

Interestingly, Doherty notes that he has no personal experience of life in a stepfamily. That being so, all I can say is full marks for empathy!

I really, really recommend reading the full article.

For non-clickers, though, I have included several paragraphs that, for me, eloquently encapsulate the challenges and achievements of stepfamily life.

More than anything else, stepfamilies make us face the unpleasant truth that core goals of adults and children, and of husbands and wives, sometimes diverge in family life.  We want a divorce and our children want us to stay married to their parent.  We want to remarry and our kids want us to stay single–or remarry our original spouse…. We want our new spouse to love our children the way we do, and they are… counting the years till the children leave home.  When stepfamilies nevertheless succeed in creating a nurturing life together, as many ultimately do, it is a striking human achievement.

….

Conceived after a loss and born in a love affair that represents the renewal of hope for grownups but not for children, stepfamilies strive everyday to reconcile that which cannot be fully reconciled… Stepfamilies are the moral pioneers of contemporary family life, showing us all how to love and persevere in the face of loyalties that multiply and divide but never fully converge.*

*This extract is quoted under the Fair Use doctrine of the Copyright Act 2009 for the purposes of criticism, comment and education.

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.

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?