Holidays?

I am absolutely trashed with tiredness.

It’s been a busy few days; the Boys’ arrival, visitors, including a child who gets up four-plus times for the toilet each night, a midnight replay of some Grand Final or other that the Lovely Man simply had to watch.

And for the past two mornings, since the Boys arrived, we’ve been woken up multiple times by small bedroom visitors well before seven o’clock each morning.

……

We’re bored.

……

Boy B is hitting me!

……

We want to play PS3.

Despite refusal of permission from the Lovely Man, this was followed shortly by a blast of PS3 muzak at around sixty decibels.

Have I ever mentioned that our bedroom is separated from the TV and loungeroom by flimsy glass doors?

[Damn you, PS3. I never liked your dreadful soundtracks, the way you take over my living area or how wired you make the Boys, and now I like you less than ever. If I had my way I would donate you to a family in India so they could run a lucrative Ps3 café in their village.]

Added to my irritation was that every. single. visitation. was unaccompanied by the knock on the door stipulated by our “stupid” houserules.

So every. single. visitation. required me to wrestle the covers over my top half in a mad panic.

Finally, I gave up trying to snooze and lay in bed, listening to the sounds of  kids bickering, visitors chatting, the dog barking, doors slamming and PS3 warfare compete with the softer but equally unsettling background noises generated by inexperienced baristas mauling my beloved espresso machine.

I’m told they call this the holidays?

[Sorry, whinging will cease tomorrow. If I get at least five hours of unbroken sleep.]

Umm, the kids don’t come first (from Skepticlawyer)

A snippet from a fascinating, stepfamily-relevant new post over at Skepticlawyer:

An oft-repeated mantra, everywhere from law courts to dating agencies, is that ‘children come first’. No-one ever provides any argument to back this assertion, and attempts (by me) to dig up social science research supporting the argument that privileging children’s needs over the needs of their adult parents, their teachers (or anyone else) is good for either (a) those children’s long term welfare or (b) good for anyone else have proven fruitless. This I find perplexing, and I’d be very interested to see what people think of the oft-invoked ‘in the best interests of the children’ (the standard family court line) or ‘my kids come first’ (spattered all over people’s online dating profiles).

See (contrarian that I am), I suspect it’s not true. Not only do I suspect it’s not true, but I also think it’s fed into a culture of child privileging that has led to the great bulk of young people — at least in developed countries — displaying the most extraordinary sense of entitlement. My feminist friends call this kind of thing ‘privilege’, and while the two concepts are similar, I’m not sure they’re the same. Most people, I suspect, don’t have any privilege by virtue of what they are. They have to have it conferred on them, and to my jaundiced eye, it seems that conferral is done, by and large, when they are children. Their needs are placed above the needs of their parents, their teachers and wider society. And then their sense of entitlement blows up in everyone’s faces.

…..

Ultimately I think this issue is really about permissive parenting and divorce guilt, something we stepfamily types tend to be all-too-familiar with.

Head over for the rest of the article; the lively comments are also well worth a read.

Do you ever think your partner is Mr Wrong?

Sorry – random, I know. Yes, and maybe even a tiny bit sexist.

Not at all fair comment on the Lovely Man, either.

Anyway, Lori Lowe’s fabulous article We All Married the Wrong Person on her blog Marriage Gems is hugely worth a read if you’ve ever wondered if your partner is “Mr Not Right For Me”.

And seriously, in a stepfamily situation complete with rampant stress and over-the-phone expletives and mashed potato flying about at mealtimes, who hasn’t?

Lori suggests that marrying/partnering with the right person is actually a question of commitment and not of finding the mythical “perfect match”.

Stepfamilies understand commitment in a uniquely powerful way, I think.

Certainly, one of the most profoundly positive aspects of life in a stepfamily is the enormous reserve of commitment so many of us find in ourselves and our partners; commitment to caring for and nurturing children not our own, to sticking with our partners in the face of enormous challenges from kids and exes, to educating and equipping ourselves for stepfamily life.

Sometimes, that commitment may need a slight refocus – an important part of your commitment to your stepfamily should include a commitment to nurturing yourself, lest you turn into a Disappearing Woman.

How does your commitment show in your stepfamily?

How can you commit to caring for yourself better?

Small delights

I did the school run for the Boys by myself today and will be again tomorrow, since the Lovely Man has two early starts at work.

By “school run” I don’t just mean the drive in to school but the entire early-morning-drill-sergeant-get-boys-up-and-ready routine.

It only lasts about ninety minutes, but it’s quite an intense process, especially since stepmother authority to compel obedience/listening/quick responses is often fairly limited.

I sometimes dread the prospect of school run days, but today went fairly smoothly, on the whole. (Three boys of various sizes invariably = a range of at least minor hiccups, but that’s parenting, I guess.)

There was one lovely moment, though – I had made umpteen slices of toast with strawberry jam, which had been delivered to the table and duly devoured, and was standing at the sink trying to get the post-breakfast fallout cleared away.

Suddenly, a little pair of arms wrapped around my waist from behind and hugged me, and Boy C said:

Thankyou, B. You’re *really* nice to us!

He’s such a sweetie, and my smile persisted even after I looked down at where his hands had been and saw his little jam-sticky paw prints on the front of my cream dress.

That’s the other side of parenting, I guess, and I like it, jam and all.

Stepfamily forums and the Mean Girls effect

I just read this great post My Inner Masochist on Lady Justine’s Blog about her recent experiences with Mumsnet.

Now in my early days of stepparenting I admit I swung by Mumsnet a few times, hoping to get some answers to some of my “the known universe has fallen away!” questions.

Things like:

Why does my stepson keep shooting me with imaginary guns? Will it scar him forever if I tell him to stop?

Why did he court me when we first met, but now he rejects me?

and

What can I do about all the wee on the toilet floor?

Like Lady Justine, I was totally stunned by what I found at Mumsnet.

Women weren’t just giving constructive advice or support to each other, they were also ripping each other to shreds in a frenzy of high-tech bloodsports. Lady Justine and I don’t appear to be the only ones to have noticed this phenomena, either.

There are some hot button topics that seem to bring out many mums’ inner ugly.

The first time I was there, I happened to stumble a post by a woman who described her childbirth as less than painful. From memory, she said something like “I hypnobirthed, and while it was intense I wouldn’t call it painful”.

To my horror, this apparently unforgivable sentiment was followed by the commentary equivalent of about seven thousand vicious, post-natal mums beating their way through the offender’s computer screen to bitch slap her.

Sadly, stepmothering yet not appearing to experience candy sorbet-flavoured glitter delight at every single aspect of caring for someone else’s kids seems to be another of these hot button topics. I guess that hearing about stepmother challenges or unhappiness simply spotlights too many fears and resentments and resonant cultural stereotypes for the audiences of these generalist parenting forums to let offending stepmothers go unrebuked.

So anyway, my own piece of unsolicited advice to the universe today is:

Whatever happens, don’t go to a general parenting forum for advice or support about stepfamily issues.

If you do, you will be offered two starkly unpleasant choices:

1. Stay silent, and watch deserving people who are struggling to do their best with difficult situations (after all, they are asking for advice!) get slammed.

or,

2. Speak, and get slammed yourself.

In my experience, general parenting forums are frenzies of self-righteousness and deliberate hurtfulness. It’s so ugly.

Longer term stepmums quickly work this out for themselves, but I would always tell recent stepmother recruits:

If you ever want to seek or offer stepfamily support, you really need to go to a stepfamily-exclusive site.

Honestly, this is the only way to avoid all the trolling meanies with chips on their shoulders. Because, really, adjusting to stepparenting is hard enough without having interweb cave dwellers getting their judgement jollies at your expense.

A better choice than Mumsnet and its ilk is to try your local or national Stepfamily Association and see if it runs forums. They often need you to register and be approved before you can read or post, but once you’re in they are often the most wise, supportive and understanding communities you could ever hope to belong to.

Where do you go for stepfamily support?

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?

Another naked stepmum story

I had to chuckle reading Stef’s Naked Stepmum post.

(Unlike her, my title is a completely shameless trawl for readers. Sleazes and spambots, come on down!)

Boy C, as much as I love him, is unstoppable when it comes to nudity.

For a seven-year-old, his eyes-on-stalks are precociously well developed.

He’s a master exhibitionist, too – of the “bend over and spread the bumcheeks” variety.

Last week at the Kidhaus, he wandered into the bathroom while I was showering, ostensibly to ask me if he could have a snack.

He never bothers asking when I’m not naked, by the way – just climbs up onto the kitchen bench and helps himself.

Anyway, I was fairly relaxed about him being in the bathroom briefly. My seven-year-old nephew occasionally sees me nude, after all. I don’t have huge taboos around nakedness, and nor does the Lovely Man. Generally, it seems better not to make a big fuss and to just be matter-of-fact.

The problem was that after I’d said that yes, he could have a snack, he stood in the doorway, eyes-agoggle staring at me until I had to say:

Alright, Boy C, that’s enough. Out you go and give me some privacy to finish my shower now please.

No response.

Boy C, out you go NOW, please.

And with a huge, cheeky grin, he finally went.

No place like home

Another week in stepmother land is over. I’m home, back in my city after what feels like many weeks but has actually been a little over three.

The Lovely Man, on the other hand, worked out mid-last month that he would spend four nights in our home in our city in the six weeks ahead.

Admittedly, we were on holiday sans enfants for over two weeks in the middle of that time, but the time away from home brought about by our fly-in/fly-out step/parenting schedule costs us both in terms of feeling settled and as though we have a secure base.

The Lovely Man is still with the Boys in their city. The time apart can be hard to cope with, too. It’s doubly hard for the Lovely Man, who, of course, is almost always away from either the Boys or me.

Still, we’re lucky we have the option to maintain this two-city life. Financially, in terms of our work commitments, even our energy and health, it’s a stretch – changes to any of these factors could potentially derail our opportunity to sustain our base in our city, the one that actually feels like home.

As I’m sure any non-stepmom would be happy to tell me, I knew what I was getting into.

Of course, as any stepmother could affirm, you never really know what you’re getting into.

It’s very hard sometimes – the travel, the sense of dislocation, being away from my friends and family, going so quickly from single to having three kids to help care for.

I wouldn’t change it. Not for a second.

But I’m so, so glad to be home.

The school run

I’m doing the school run alone today and tomorrow.

Sigh.

Like all kids, the Boys are creatures of habit, and they just don’t sign on with the various adult reasons why their Dad isn’t going to be there to get them ready for school.

I’m anticipating difficulties. Silliness. Bullying. Playing up.

There’s a little non-cooperation switch inside Boy A, especially.

He can’t help it, I know; his unhelpful behaviour is his way of registering protest at the new scenario, and this new adult in his life.

It’s especially in evidence when he knows I’m under pressure – when the Lovely Man is tired or stressed, when I’m trying desperately to get the Boys to school on time, or if I’m struggling to cope generally.

Cross your fingers for me.

When are your stepkids at their worst?

Using the s-word

When it comes to describing my role in our family, I just can’t do all that “Bonus Mom“ stuff.

At Bonus Families, they have this to say about why they chose the “bonus” label:

….because most people say that “step” implies negative things — wicked, evil, we decided it was time to scrap the old concept of step and offer a new more positive model.

A time may, perhaps, come when the Boys, or some of them, consider my presence in their family a “bonus”.

People often say “Oh, when they’re older they’ll really see and appreciate all you’ve done for them!”

Ummm, maybe. Maybe not. I’m certainly not taking it as a given.

I’m not entirely comfortable with the mom/mum bit, either.

Being a “mum” has so much cultural coding as a concept, so many layers of expectations. And, hopefully, so much joy attached.

There’s joy in stepfamily life, it’s true, but a little bit needs to be rationed out to go a long way!

Being a stepmother can seem all ‘step’, precious little ‘mum’.

Or lots of “mum”, if your definition is solely activity-based, i.e. laundry, packing lunches, making industrial quantities of toast, poddling about under the table on hands and knees scraping up table windfalls from last night’s butter chicken….

One of the ironies of stepfamily life for stepmothers is that it is so often a simultaneous “all and nothing” experience of mothering.

On the one hand, the mother-type duties and responsibilities can seem endless. So it’s not surprising, although it is unfortunate, that stepmothers can get very caught up in wanting recognition for the “mothering” part of the role – from the children’s mother, from the children themselves (“I’d love you kids to call me Mum!”), as well as more generally.

It doesn’t take long to realise that those particular hopes are generally on a hiding to nothing.

On the other hand, the emotional payoff that first family mothers experience as their return on the drudgery invested in mothering is often missing, or limited, or contingent for stepmothers. No wonder we can feel depleted.

So the “mother” part of the stepmother label often feels like a bad fit for me – and, of course, for the kids, for whom the “M” word is a sacred, inviolable thing that belongs EXCLUSIVELY to She Who Birthed Them.

And fair enough, too. I know very well that if my parents had divorced there would be no way that I would have been comfortable describing any new partner of my Dad’s with a “mum” tag.

So I don’t tend to describe myself in front of the Boys as their stepmum. There, I’m just B. Or sometimes “Dad’s girlfriend/Dad’s partner”. Which, like Stef, I’m not a big fan of either; defining myself solely in relation to the Lovely Man jabs sharply at my feminist reflexes. Like pretty much everything in step life, it’s complicated.

(Although Boy C did recently describe me as “a great… um… kind of parent”. Bless him.)

The trouble is that there is no other phrase or word that honestly describes what stepmothers do. And having a name for what we do is such an important part of raising awareness, both within ourselves as a way of acknowledging the value of our contributions, and “out there” in society.

Being a stepmother is a hard job. I’m proud to acknowledge that I am tough enough to do it. And, mostly, I think I do it well.

Accordingly, while I’m a bit squirmy with the stepmother label in some respects, I also don’t like to ice the cake with “Other Mother”-type euphemisms.

Lots of people seem to resist the word “step”. But it’s honest, at least. I am not the children’s “Other Mother”. They don’t see me that way and nor do I.

For me, “Other Mother” and “Bonus Mother” labels hide the often knobbly, gristly reality of stepfamily life.

I’m not accepting of pretty labels that pretend being in a stepfamily is “just like” being in a first family. I’m not going to hunt up creative or cutesy ways of describing my family to hide from the wicked stepmother myth. Or avoid using the word “step” because it makes people uncomfortable.

There are as many different opinions about this as there are step-parents, but, for me, it’s time we recognise that “step” is not a dirty word. Divorce happens. Remarriages and repartnerings happen. And these new partners generally bring a lot of good things to the family table.

What we do, caring for these kids who are not our own, is big. It’s hard. It’s important.

We need to come out of the closet.

Do you routinely describe yourself as a stepmother? In what situations do you use the s-word?