Thank You for Smoking

There is nothing worse than a reformed smoker.
I admit it. I do.
I can't stand to be within 5 miles of the nastiness.
I can smell it on your clothes, on MY clothes after I've been in your house, on your breath, even your fingers if you get too close to me.
And yes I *do* judge you.
I stand upon my soap box and lecture for hours on end the evils of your way.
Your teeth are yellow. You have premature wrinkles. You do not look cool or attractive AT ALL.
Why would you want to do that to yourself? To your family?
And GOD forbid... your kids?!?! Yes I SCREAM AT YOU FROM THE TOP OF MY LUNGS AT YOUR STUPIDITY!!!!!!!
(On the inside.)
(Except for my husband who is bad at hiding it and despite being caught and confronted years ago still refuses to officially admit his weakness to me. *Him* I will scream at OUT LOUD.)

I have recently found myself feeling the same judgment when I read some other stepmom blogs.
(No... not *your* blog silly. Someone else's blog.)
I see these Moms going through the same power struggles as I did, getting upset over the same trivial stuff and wonder WHY OH WHY! are they allowing themselves to sink down to that level?!
The whining. The justifications as to why they are BETTER than their stepkids' BioMom. The blaming of BioMom for ALL of their troubles.
I bring out my soap box again and yell at my computer screen OMG, GET OVER IT ALREADY!

And then I remember...

While I hope it is much less in frequency than it used to be, I do the same thing.
Fuck this blog was nothing but one giant BITCHFEST in the beginning.
It was is my place to vent. Safely. Without judgement.
And it's the reason I have been able to find my way and figure out how to cope with my situation with Maleficent.
I don't know if I have it figured out for good, but I've got it FOR NOW.
I eventually reached a point when I was tired of being angry all the time. Tired of laying the blame on a person whose actions I could not control.
This blog is how I was able to reach the conclusion that I cannot control Maleficent.
But I CAN control my reaction to her.
Where I became committed to making this work (l'est I become committed!)
Where I made the first steps to reach out to her.
To establish communication. Try to allow her to get to know me.
And where I stood up for myself while validating her role as Cinderella's mother.
I know I was able to do this through the support and understanding of other Stepmoms.
Those who have "been there, done that" and those who are struggling to find there way.
They You all knew that I needed to vent. That I did not need a judgmental lecture.
You listened and offered your gentle support and advice. You let me know I was not alone and that my feelings were normal and that I was doing a good job (even if I didn't think so).

So, thanks for the refreshing reminder of what it was like for me and of how far I've come.
You will get there too, one day.
You *will* get there TOO.
Be it by reaching out, detaching, or some other method that I have yet to discover.

Anyone have a light?

Encore! Encore!

Today is Cinderella's cast party to celebrate the success of their drama club performance (of 3 weeks ago).

I'm a little sad that I won't be able to be there.

I didn't realize how much fun I had with those kooky and wacky middle schoolers, until my time with them was over.

"This is the happiest I have seen you in a long time."

My mother's observation was right-on and a little shocking.

I had no idea I would have this much fun working with Cinderella and her classmates.

They're funny, exuberant and stuck in that awesome and awkward place between childhood and adulthood. The dynamics of their relationships are laced with sexual tension that they have yet to understand or even realize. They are beautifully innocent and frighteningly grown-up all at the same time.

Being backstage with them left me feeling something like a Big Sister, Friend, Mom and Warden all rolled into one. I wanted to strangle them and laugh and hug and run around being silly with them all at the same time.

Cinderella and I bonded in a way we had never done before. Her play gave us something in common - something neutral to enjoy together, that existed beyond our home and chores and custody/visitation issues and the problems with her Mom and the dynamics of our Stepmom/Stepdaughter relationship. We connected easily. We chatted, gossiped, planned and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. 

This experience has left me wanting more.

I can't wait to do it again.

Stepmom to Stepmom: A Call for Support

A reader and stepmom-to-be, K10ish, needs some advice and support.

She writes: "I think I may be at my 'step mom to be' limit. Who do we talk to?"

The following poem of hers is thoughtful, insightful, and touched deep into the heart of my own struggles as a Stepmom, as I'm sure it will for some of you. Please help K10ish know that she is not alone. Leave your comments here or on her lovely blog: Hindsight, Relationships and Looking Inside Me.

The Sub

In the shadow

never THE mom

or THE dad

just the substitute.

Love like they are your own

honest and pure

You are not their own

They have their own.

On the bench.

That's where you sit

You are not the first string.

It's OK for a while, it's not a competition.

It's your heart.

Your love.

This is your ready made family.

And it's not yours.

It's theirs. Their Mom. Their Dad.

But divorced.

Extra wheel.

That's you. That's me.

You only need an extra wheel

When the others aren't good.

But just for a little while.

You are easily replaced.

You are not one of them.

Can anyone see this but me?

Who do you talk to?

How do you discuss your pain?

What do you do with your hurt?

When they all stand together in one place

it's random, a birthday party, a school conference

where do you stand.

Alone.

Stepmom Jewelry

I am a StepMom. I am a BioMom.
I am also a Woman cognicscent of the differences between the two and of the sensitive issue of "claiming" someone else's child as your own.
As a Mom, I have a one of these.
It bears Hansel's & Gretel's names and birthstones.
It does not include Cinderella because I did not feel right adding her to a Mommy bracelet.
(Mostly because I was worried about how Maleficent would feel. )
So I've been on a search for a piece of jewelry that was unique and that would allow me to proudly display my role as a Stepmom. Something that reflected my relationship with Cinderella.
I found it here.
Unique. Handstamped. Personalized. Perfect!
I saw this necklace and fell in love.
I contacted the site's owner and designer (Beth Philbin) and asked if I could have "Stepmom" stamped on the charm.
I could! In fact Beth said she could stamp it on any charm that's large enough.
I liked this necklace because I could incorporate my stepdaughter's name and her birthstone. As I did in the bracelet for Hansel & Gretel.
I love it.
It's sparkly. It's simple. It's unique.



Just like Her.
If you're a Stepmom and in the market for a unique piece of jewelry to celebrate your Stepmommyhood, I urge you to visit Beth's site and pick one up for yourself.

(Beth was an absolute delight. Very friendly and quick to respond to my questions. It was a pleasure doing business with her and I am looking for more reasons to buy her pieces because they are just amazing.)

Custodial Stepmother Failures

Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "Stepmother's Bill of Rights":
What a joke. I've been looking for information on custodial stepmothers, who aren't mothers at all - and the fact that there is some bill of rights for these "mothers" is ridiculous. They aren't your kids. Let's see - read that again - they aren't your kids. You think you won the lottery by marrying their dad, you are unrealistic, you are idealistic and mostly - you're a failure - have your own kids. I've yet to meet one custodial step "mother" who was worth the title.

Oh, Anonymous!
I am so sorry for whatever experiences you have had in your Life that have left you so bitter and biased against Stepmoms. Experiences that would prompt you to search for "custodial stepmother failures."
(Oh, and I am sorry for deleting your oh-so-constructive comment.)
I feel for you. For I know how difficult it can be to forgive and forget and MOVE.ON.
And how easy it is to play the victim, focus on the negative and cast hateful remarks.
I've perfected that role. I am Master of the Me Vs. Them Game.
But I'm learning that our only Failures are if we don't use our individual experiences as opportunites to learn and grow and be better people.
People who can rise above the petty bullshit that oftentimes pits BioParents, StepParents and Kids against one another.
I still have a lot to learn. A lot to forgive. And a lot of healing.
I'll get there one day.
I wish the same for you.
Oh, and with regards to your last comment. I do have my "own" kids in addition to my stepdaughter. Two of them, actually. I've posted about them quite frequently here. I'm sorry you didn't stick around long enough to learn that not all Stepmoms are as vile as those which you claim to have encountered.

I'd Like Some Cheese With That

Cinderella comes home from her visit with Malificent.
I pulled a muscle in my neck. Mommy says I should put an ice pack on it.
Oh. Sorry, we don't have any ice packs.
[cue whining and tears]
But it really hurts! What am I supposed to do?!
A hot shower should help.
But Mommy said an ice pack will help!
Sorry, babe. We don't have any ice packs. Did Mommy give you an ice pack at her house?
No! She didn't!
Ok. Then try a hot shower. It just needs to work itself out.
***
Five minutes later after the shortest shower in the history of Tweendom Cinderella emerges from the bathroom.
[cue whining]
My neck still hurts! What am I going to do!?
You weren't in the shower long enough.
[cue whining]
But it wasn't helping!
That because you didn't give it a chance to. You'll feel better in the morning after you get a good night's sleep. You probably just slept on it wrong.
[cue whining]
But it was fine this morning!
Ok. Well we've all had a stiff neck at one time or another. I know they hurt. It'll get better.
It really hurts when I turn my neck this way.
[try to stifle chuckles as I deliver the punchline to one of those classic Doctor-It-Hurts-When-I-Do-This jokes]
Well don't turn your neck that way.
[cue whining and flip Exaggeration Switch to FULL-ON POSITION]
But then I can't move my neck at all!
***
Go make your lunch for school tomorrow.
[cue whining and tears]
But Daddy said I can buy lunch tomorrow! You heard him!
Sorry, he didn't tell me. But I'll ask him later and maybe you can buy lunch on Friday.
***
I ask her to dry her hair.
She has the most beautiful thick wavy hair that I just treated her to having cut by my hairstylist who used to work in Hollywood and still has some celebrity clients but now makes home visits thank.you.very.much.
Five minutes later after the shortest blow dry in the history of Tweendom, and with her hair twisted into two buns to hide the fact that it is still sopping wet...
You hair is still soaking wet. Please go dry it.
[cue whining and tears AND foot stomping]
Huh? Where?!
I just dried it!
I don't want to dry it!
And this time in case there was any doubt in my mind that she is totally turning into a hormal Tween she storms off and slams the bathroom door which is directly outside her Baby Sister's room just for effect.
Five minutes later she emerges from the bathroom STILL stomping and is now angrily flipping her hair about as if to say SEE!!!!! It's DUH-RY NOW! FLIP! STOMP! FLIP! STOMP!
***
This entire exchange took place in the span of 45 minutes.
Holy moly. It's a wonder my mother didn't murder me in my sleep when I was that age.

Stepmom Name Translations

Spanish = Madrastra
Greek = Metruia
German = Stiefmutter
Italian = Matrigna
French = Belle-mère
Portugese = Madrasta
Swedish = Styvmor
Dutch = Stiefmoeder
Finnish = Äitipuoli

(The above might not be exact translations. They were obtained using the translation tools offered by several online dictionaries. Please contact me with any corrections or additions.)

Step, Three.

My Dad recently re-married.
Marriage number Three for him.
Stepparent number Three for Me!
I love his now-Wife. She's Sassy, Classy and isn't ashamed to admit that she doesn't like kids but for some reason loves Mine. And they Love her. And for those reasons, plus a million more, I Love her.
I Love that my Dad has found a Life companion.
I Love this newest addition to my Family Tree.
I now find myself in uncharted territory. A 30-something year old with a woman whom I have always called my Stepmom though she is technically my EX-Stepmom b/c she is no longer married to my Dad and now a NEW Stepmom.
My Dilemma is not one of emotional loyalties. It's more a matter of semantics.
How am I to differentiate between these two women in conversation or blogging?
Does a 30-something year old need a Stepmom? Or is she simply Dad's Wife?
Both Cinderella and The Boy have asked what they should now call her. Now that she is Grandpop's wife, who is she?
Good question, guys. I'll ask her.
[Does she even want to be elevated to grandmother status?]
Turn out, she does. She is thrilled, honored and touched that the kids feel strongly about assigning her a new moniker.
We tossed around several new nicknames: Nonna, Nanny, Nan, Gran and variations that combined her name + grandma.
In the end, we settled on Granny. Not our top choice but The Boy would settle for nothing less. [He's a stubborn little shit sometimes.]
So, Granny it is.
Growing up, I had just two grandmothers. Both of my grandfathers passed away when my parents were kids.
I sometimes envy our children. Thanks to me, and my extended/blended family they have grandparents to spare. That translates into extra lovin' and extra spoilin'.
What's not to love about that?