a 9 year olds point of view

On of the traits my stepson possesses which I find fascinating and entertaining is his worldly imagination. It has no bounds.

I went to lunch at Inn & Out Burger today and remembered the night I took my stepson there. He had the greatest observations and comments on the restaurant.

SS: Wow, they only have like 7 things to choose from on their menu. What if I don’t want a burger? They should add chicken nuggets or they could make pizza and put it on top of the fries like at my school.

SS: These fries look weird. They should eat at Wendys or McDonalds so they can make fries like theirs (note: he finished off the fries, so obviously they weren’t too weird)

SS: I love these chairs. This place is like a bar for kids. (in reference to the barstools that sit directly in front of this counter)

SS: Why do they only wrap half the burger? Maybe they ran out of time and couldn’t wrap the whole thing. And why do they have two wrappers? (these are called burger diapers)

my chief complaints about stepmothering

I think I have two major complaints when it comes to stepmothering -

• the complete lack of control in my own home
• my husband’s lack of willingness to do things my way or at least try to compromise occasionally
• the fact that I am expected to take care of his son – monetarily, physically and emotionally, but I have no say in the fact that his biomom can call anytime and request to see her son when she refuses to pay child support or do some of the things I feel are required to even be a mother

My husband expects me to be my stepson’s mother, in ever sense of the word. I, on the other hand, know I will never be his mther, nor do I want to replace her. I know how much my stepson cares for his mother and I do not want to ever get in the way. I know that there is a place in my stepson’s heart for me, it is just a matter of us working things out on our own, without my husband interferring.

When I first moved in with my husband and stepson, my husband was going on business trips pretty regularly. So that left my stepson and I alone together at least two weeks every month. At first it was very hard. I had to give up many things. And there were days I hated my stepson because I felt he was doing everything he could to make it harder on me. After a couple of months of this things died down and became more regulated. We had a nice easy schedule and we got along really well. We always had dinner together even if it was spagetti o’s or something easy like soup. I helped him with his homework and we would read together. Some nights I hid in my room to have down time and my stepson would watch tv in his. It was great. It worked.

The problems develped when my husband came home. Almost everytime something would be wrong – my husband didn’t like the dinner I made; my husband didn’t like the way I handled his son; my husband felt I was being mean; my husband felt the schedule could be more flexible. By the time my husband left, the schedule and easy routine my stepson and I had created would be destroyed and I would have to start all over again. It was crushing for me. My stepson was not the problem, it was my husband.

My husband has a very specific way he would like me to parent his son, but he doesn’t know how to describe it. At one point during a fierce argument, he told me to come to him and talk to him about what I wanted to say to his son before approaching his son. I was appalled and deeply upset. I couldn’t believe he didn’t believe in me enough to let me talk to my stepson without his intervention. I tried that. Each time I was always in the wrong. It was exhausting. My husband had new rules for me every week. I would try them until I was in tears. The frustration of trying to do things his way was pure punishment. I made dinners in hopes my husband would like them. Oddly, when I didn’t like a dinner, my husband did. Yet, when I thought they were great and I got a thumbs up from my stepson, my husband didn’t like them at all.

When I first moved in, I could get my stepson to eat anything I put in front of him. But over time, the constant negative comments from my husband eventually led to my stepson not wanting to eat anything I made.

Same goes for the schedule and routine I had  developed to make my stepson’s mornings and evenings easier. When my husband wasn’t home my stepson ran through his chores like a champ. When he was home, my husband wouldn’t uphold the rules and my stepson soon realized he could use this to his advantage and not do his chores. Then he would smugly look at me and declare his victory over me. I would talk to my husband about this, but then my husband would change rules on me secretly with my stepson. I would go to help my stepson get his chores done and instead I would be told the new rule. I felt humiliated. I love my husband, but sometimes, I lothe the father in him.

Stepmothering is like babysitting, only I pay someone else to watch their child and I can’t discipline the child or I get in chasticized. It is horrible. After about nine months of the above issues, one of my least favorite things became watching my stepson. My husband wouldn’t ask me if I would watch him, but expected me to just be there when he wanted to go out. I knew that the minute my husband left, my stepson would begin being a nightmare. A few times, I just went into my bedroom and stayed in there with door shut hoping my stepson would tire and go to bed. I just couldn’t deal with it. I felt that as long as he wasn’t setting the house on fire or leaving the house everything would be fine. I ignored the fact that he had a bedtime and chores to do. It never worked. I eventually had to come out and be the bad guy. Then I told my husband that I wouldn’t watch him anymore. If he wanted to go out, he needed to find a babysitter. This infuriated my husband. He felt I was trying to control him. He felt like I didn’t want him to go out and enjoy himself. Not once did he ever ASK ME to watch his son. Not once did he ever tell me that even though it was hard being a mother, I was doing a good job. I just wanted to feel recognized. Eventually my husband figured out he could go to the neighbors house to get out. Most evenings I would be at home and my husband would disappear. I finally realized what he was doing and went back to hiding out.

And in all of this, my stepson had no idea he was actually losing. He wasn’t getting enough sleep. He wasn’t getting  his homework done. He wasn’t ever prepared. He just did what he wanted. I felt horrible. I felt like my husband was letting us both down. I just couldn’t handle the pressure and responsibility that my husband expected from me. And not once did he ever come to me and tell me how he felt.

In the morningsI tried to avoid running into my stepson because he would corner me and antagonize me. I felt helpless. I felt like I was a victim in my own home. When I would finally get tired of the whole thing I would lash out and yell. And then my husband would come out and tell me what I had done was wrong.

There was little respect for my things, my way of living and the way I felt.

Now that we are seperated I hope that we can talk about this next. Things have been better than they have been in a long time between my husband and I. I really have hopes that we will make it.

The last evening we spent together recently, I explained to my husband how I felt about my expectations as a stepmother and wife. He listened patiently and I felt validated. It was wonderful.

It is amazing how we lived through those first couple of years. The anger and bitterness. The hurt and tension.

Taking some time to be apart and work on ourselves has been the best thing to ever happen to us both.

I am taking the time to also work on my stepmothering. I have been reading Jacque’s book, A Career Girls Guide to Becoming a Stepmother. It is right up my alley. I have felt she is right on with many of the comments she states. I plan to read some of it to my husband too in hopes he may understand some day how it is for me. Here are a few of my favorite quotes (some of them just because she knows how I have felt) -

“In the first year of marriage, a stepmother feels she must learn how to live with another human being (or several), learn how to be married, learn how to be a stepmother, with all its thorny issues, find her place within a family that has already been together for years, figure out how to assert herself, learn how to support and communicate with people who are wounded and learn how to deal with the ex. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“You must grieve the death of your childhood fantasies even while you’re in the midst of a love affair with the man of your dreams . . . Not once did I think, “When I get married, I want to marry a divorced man with kids. I want to walk into a family that has already been created so I feel like I’m starting out already behind the curve. I want to feel left out and have to hold my tongue. I want to have to schedule our family calendar with another woman. Boy, does that sound like fun! Sign me up!”

who am I

I have been pondering this question for quite some time now – Who am I?

I am 29 years old. You wouldn’t think this would be a question. By now, I should be together and know not only who I am, but where I am going too. Up until a little over 3 years ago, I knew exactly who I wanted to be.

I was going to be a strong business woman. I was not only going to be good at my job, but I was going to excell. I love working. I am really good at my job. I had a huge future in it and knew I would be happy with the outcome. Personally, I was also a strong woman. I wasn’t afraid to speak up. I told things how they were and didn’t worry about it. I was a nice person, honest and very reliable. I had my kniche cut out for me. I was happy. I did things the way I liked them done. I didn’t really cook, but got by just fine. I cleaned on my own time and in my own way. I had my free time and I had my time with my friends. I also had two wonderful cats at home that gave me the love I needed. Things were good. I had a very quiet apartment where I could read, watch tv and pretty much do whatever I wanted. I really didn’t have any obligations. When I felt the need to get out I called my sister. She was always going out. She was always doing something. She provided the escape I needed and most of the time, it was more than I bargained for.

One day I was at my sister’s apartment hanging out with some of her friends I realized I liked one of her guy friends. I was so shocked at how hard it hit me that I flew out of there – mid sentence. I ran for my life. I had never felt this way about anyone before. I was talking to him and all of sudden I was filled with this warmth. It just rushed over my body. I was scared. I didn’t need anything screwing up my life. I had just gotten out of a crappy relationship, a short one be it that, but one I still felt a small loss for too. I didn’t need this. I didn’t want this. I don’t need a man to fill me, to make my life better.

I spent the next week or so trying to avoid my sister and the guy I liked. My sister finally got fed up with me and my excuses. We played this game of sorts where I would want to stay home and enjoy my evenings and my sister felt I wasn’t getting out and having enough fun. She dragged me out to a dance club with her and her friends, and that guy.

I knew that this guy had been dating my sister’s best friend for over a year. That was actually how I met him. I was walking through the apartment complex and they waved me over. That night, I never actually saw his face. It was covered by a baseball cap and shadows. I never thought twice about it. He was just another flavor in this girl’s never ending guys.

That night, I went out I did my best to just stay away from him, but to no avail. He was such a charismatic guy. Just looking at his dimple smile makes me smile. I couldn’ t help but talk to him. He always made me laugh and smile. I gave in. Because it was my sister’s best friend who dated him before I knew he was off limits. So I told myself I was just going to be friends, which I felt gave me the freedom to just have fun that night. In the morning I woke up with a small hangover and a heavy heart. It was going to be hard, but I had worked through issues before. I could do it this time. I had no idea he wasn’t seeing that girl anymore. I had no idea he had noticed me.

The next weekend, the same thing happened. I spent the early part of my evening telling my sister that I wasn’t going to go out this Saturday night. I was tired. It didn’t work this time either. I went out. Only this time, he only had eyes for me. We spent most of the evening talking to each other. He danced with me. He and I were almost inseperable. I couldn’t have been happier.

Before I knew it, I was not only liking this guy, but falling deeply in love. And every moment I saw him brought me closer to the realization that my goals in life were changing. I started seeing myself having kids and being the soccer mom. Staying home and cooking dinners; eating around our table and talking endlessly about our days; going on family vacations with numerous pictures to remember them by; staying in bed on Sundays and snuggling under the covers; taking long evening walks; going to the park with a picnic lunch; having board game nights and basically doing many of the things I remember doing while I was growing up. But in my dreams, I wasn’t a kid any longer, I was the parent. I was the wife. I was the provider, the caretaker, the protector. I was no longer the one being taken care of, but rather taking care of other people.

It was shocking and incredibly scary, but I pushed that aside because the need for this lifestyle was greater. I would make it work. I always got what I wanted, if I wanted it bad enough. It would be great.

By the time I moved into his home with his full time son, I had charts and chore lists and so many ideas in my head. I transfered them to paper and began organizing the house I wanted and rearranging everything to the way I had pictured it. Needless to say, my attempts at controlling my husband and stepson weren’t appreciated. They said they wanted to participate and that my ideas were good, but when push came to shove neither one actually did anything. In fact I think they ran the opposite way.

Not to be defeated, I doubled my efforts.

And so did they.

A battle had ensued.

And it lasted over two years.

Today, I am coming to the quick realization that my vision of marriage and motherhood included a God-like mother and wife. Only attainable if you are in fact God himself. And I was not. Nor would I ever be. I also realize the expectations I had set for my husband and stepson were unattainable. And they were smart to give up early rather than try and be a failure.

I had set everyone up for failure. Especially myself.

Granted my husband and stepson didn’t help by running away rather than talking to me. But I am not sure there would have been anything they could have said to deter me.

I am a woman on a mission most days. And I have always worked my ass off to be the best I can be. Failure is not an option with me.

Unfortunately, my marriage came to that. It was failing. No matter how hard I tried to control the situation and make my marriage work, the faster it fell apart. And when I tried to let go, I felt like I was in the middle of a tornade screaming, but no one could help. All around me my life was going to pieces and I couldn’t do anything about it.

By the time I came to my senses I had left my husband and stepson. Thankfully, my husband wanted to try and see if we could work things out. We continued to go to counseling.

Today, I am much happier than I have been in a long time. So is my husband. We are lucky. The love we have together is greater that I ever knew. I am still living at my parent’s house and will until I, and my husband, are ready to move back in together.

We are working on ourselves, not each other. We are focus on ourselves and what we are doing wrong. Not on what the other has done. Pointing fingers is no longer an option.

I have realized how far I went under trying to be the woman I thought I needed to be for my husband and stepson. In all of it, I lost who I was.

I remember now.

I am a woman who loves life. I am a born learner. I love to learn anything new. I love the crispness of learning a new trait and becoming good at it. The more I stagger, the harder I try. This is good in hobbies and skills, but in marriage this doesn’t work. I am learning to control myself, and only myself because that is the only thing I can control. And yet, the more I let go of control over others, the more I seem to let go of myself. Which is a good thing. One thing I have always envied about my husband is his ability to enjoy life – to stop and smell the roses. He doesn’t worry about most things, if much at all. He is in the moment. I can honestly say that I am more in the moment that I have ever been my entire life. I love it. It is truly a gift.

I spent the other evening with my husband and stepson before they left for their Thanksgiving trips. Throughout the night I found myself thinking, I need to remember this; I need to remember his laugh, his smell, his kiss. Then I realized that I will never forget. I wasn’t thinking of tomorrow when I will miss them. I wasn’t thinking about last week when we fought. I was thinking right then how much I love this moment. How much I cherish that I got to have this moment.

I am a very strong woman. I always will be. I find power in just being a woman.

I feel it is a man’s world, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be a woman who thrives in it. I take myself out to dinner by myself to a nice restaurant and order not only wine, but dessert as well. I go to movies by myself. I enjoy being by myself. I don’t feel alone or embarrassed that I am alone. I find power in being happy with who I am. Not many woman I know, can do this.

I know that I am very smart and funny and pretty and well, basically I like myself. I ready, write, knit, scrapbook, take photos. I love to take vacations and see other worlds.

I had forgotten this. I had forgotten to stop and look in the mirror and tell myself, ”I am a good person. I like who I am.”

I can still be the stepmom. I can still be the wife.

 But I will always be me. And that is quite alright with me.

marriage and holidays

How many times do the holidays come around and instead of being happy you start to worry about whose house you will be at and when you will get time for yourselves or your family? Well, my hand is raised.

Every single holiday that comes around the arguments begin.

“But we spent last Christmas with your family.”

“How about we split the holiday, half the day at my parent’s house and half at yours.”

“My family always does Christmas eve at their house.”

“Can’t we just stay at home this year?”

“What if we take a vacation this year?”

The entire time I am thinking, when I am I ever going to get to spend a nice and relaxing holiday with my new family in our own home. After getting married I quickly realized just how much of my time really wasn’t my time.

My husband’s family gets together every single Sunday for dinner. There are many reasons why this is hard for me -

• Usually my only day off from work is Sunday and I am tired and have so many things to do
• It isn’t just a couple of hours of dinner and conversation, it lasts all day long.
• It is EVERY SINGLE Sunday
• My husband usually doesn’t stick around to be with me nor do I really see him, except when we eat
• It is hard to feel at home when I don’t want to upset my in-laws or get in their way or retreat into my own self

I would think since I really like my in-laws that would make it so much easier, and to a point it does, but I love my own parents and I would not want to spend every single Sunday with them either. I am not really that much of a people person. I can be, but prefer just to sit back and let other people do the talking.

Sundays should be my time; my time alone and my time with my family; my new family. Just as I feel holidays should  be as well. I want to build my new family with our own traditions and feelings and memories. I would love to cook my husband and stepson a really nice Thanksgiving dinner and watch tv and just enjoy the day at my own home and with my new family. It would be so incredibly relaxing and, I think, much more special to us.

My husband feels holidays (even more than other days) are for spending time with your family; not just by ourselves. He feels we will have many holidays in the future to spend with just us.

I am not trying to seperate my husband from his family. It would just be really nice to enjoy that time we have and maybe set aside other time around the holidays to spend with his family.

Most Christmases we spend Christmas Eve at my parent’s house and exchange gifts that evening. On Christmas morning we are up really early with my husband’s son. We barely get through one stocking, let alone all three of ours, before the phone is ringing and we are rushing to get ready to go to his parent’s house. We are usually there way after noon opening up presents and enjoying the holiday. I have to drag us out of there. By the time we get back to our house we are all so tired we don’t even want to open other gifts or finish the stockings. If we do go ahead and open gifts, my stepson has usually reached the limit of gift time and has entered the “is that all” or “I really wanted this” children’s phase. And the day after Christmas my stepson leaves to stay with his mom for  a couple of weeks. I feel like we never truly get to enjoy Christmas.

I feel horrible that I feel this way. I should want to be more involved with his family and their traditions. But I just don’t.

I work with people all day long and at the end of the day I would love to just go home and be around my family. I don’t want to have to find things to talk about or entertain other people. I just want to be able to be myself. And yes, I feel the need to do these things when I am with my in-laws. I don’t want them to feel I am being anything, but nice and cheerful.

I want the peace and quiet. That feeling of home and relaxation that I don’t usually find at my in-laws. And try as they may, I really don’t know that I will ever feel at home in their home. I find it hard to feel at home in my parent’s house. But at least at my parent’s house, they know me and know I am not trying to hurt them when I put my nose in a book or take a nap or just zone out in front of the tv.

This year a friend of mine needs someone to watch their house up in the moutains for about 4 days around Christmas. Me? I jumped on the idea. Four full days in snow, mountain air, relaxation, hikes, fun and just plain new beautiful scenery. Did I mention it would be completely free???  They will allow us to put up a Christmas tree, sleep in any of the wonderful rooms they have, light a fire, eat their food. I don’t think it could get better than this. But I know immediately my husband is going to say No because then we wouldn’t be spending the holidays with family. And by family he doesn’t mean me or his son, but his parent’s. I love my parents and going to this cabin would mean missing Christmas Eve with my parent’s too, but I know my parent’s will be excited for us to go and do something different. And they know we would make other arrangements for another day to exchange gifts and spend time together.

Dilema . . . Dilema . . .

So tell me, what would you do?

Would you go to the cabin or stay in town and spend it with relatives?

Stepparenting

I received Jacque’s book today!!!! AND SHE SIGNED THE BOOK!!! This is the first bookI have ever had that is SIGNED BY THE AUTHOR!! Thank you SOOOOOOOOO much Jacque!!

I am so excited to read it. I love the name of the chapters -

• Thirty something single successful girl seeks mature male for dating, maybe more
• Cinderella’s man didn’t have any kids, why does mine? the fall of the fantasy
• What is stepmothering? uncovering your expectations
• Face the music getting to know the kids
• From sassy single to . . . wife? learning how to be married
• This land is my land day-to-day life in a stepfamily
• Show me the money financial realities
• Rocky Road the legal battleground
• Your the boss (of yourself)  empowered, educated women make good stepmoms
• Pit of despair fight the instant-family funk
• All work and no play makes stepmom wicked the “I” within the “we”
• Community relations stepmotherhood changes your relationships
• The other woman coming to terms with the ex
• Little monsters  what to do when you don’t like his kids
• He says fathers speak out about their needs
• Baby on board? what happens when you add a new kid to the mix
• Let the sun shine what you expect is what you get
• The payoff keep your eye on the big picture

A Career Girls Guide to becoming a Stepmom by Jacquelyn B. Fletcher

an outing

Tonight my stepson and I went on our own outing, just the two of us. I was so nervous. What if he got bored? What if we didn’t have anything to talk about? Who knows what could have gone wrong.

I picked him up and gave him a couple of choices for dinner. He picked Inn & Out Burger. He had never been. Item #1 I didn’t know about my stepson. I love Inn & Out Burger. He found it odd that they only had like 7 things on their menu to choose from.

I also had a book for him that I had picked up at Target that I thought he would like. Boy did he like it. He immediately started reading it in the car and didn’t want to get out for dinner. He wanted to keep reading. I was so stoked. Not only was it a great gift, but if I could give this kid one gift in life it would be the love of reading. I absolutely love reading. It is a huge passion of mine. And to see someone else reading with the same frenzy {and he is so young} is very inspiring for me.

During dinner we rambled on about all these miscelanous things – movies, video games, school, his biomom and his trip coming up, his dad and I and out current “break”. A comment I found really hard to take was his interpretation of our “break” was that “Daddy doesn’t want to live with mean people.” That was what he got out of his conversation with his dad about why I was living with my parents at the present time. Uhg. That hurt. I mentioned it to my husband when I got back, he laughed and said he didn’t say anything to that effect. He want sure where he got it from. Double ouch. Kids pretty much say it like it is. I obviously need to spend more time working on my anger and how I treat him. That would be another good use of this time apart.

After really great time at dinner I took him to one of those painting places where you pick out a piece of pottery and then paint it. I had to talk him out of a $45 ginormous piece. That was quite funny. Then, he picked out a couple of smaller pieces and I had to convince him to just work on one and then he could work on the other if he finished. He was really easy going. He painted furiously for about 20 mintues, then I looked over and he was zoned. He was watching other people, craining his neck around to see what they were doing. He did this for about 15 minutes before I realized he was tired. It was nice and peaceful to be able to be with him and not worry about talking. We could just enjoy each others company. Then I let him know we only had about another half hour, which really got him working on his dog again. He is so creative. He really does such a good job with things that he can create anything with.

The last time we did this togther he was constantly frustrated about how badly he was painting and how the paint kept mixing with the other colors. I was glad that this time he seemed so much more at ease.

Then about the last ten minutes he kept saying, “But I am not done. Can we come back tomorrow? I really need to finish this.” Cracks me up. I am so glad he had such a good time. He didn’t want to leave his dog so they could fire it. A really good sign.

On the way home he asked me if I could stay over tonight. I said, “I didn’t think it was a good idea, but maybe another time.” He kept at though. Thankfully, I think he misses me.

He also mentioned some other things he would like to do in the future on our nights out like watch movies {ie: rent them and watch them with dad}.

So all in all he is doing okay. I was a little worried. I wasn’t sure how he would take this situation. His biomom constantly tells him she will call and doesn’t or says she will visit and she doesn’t. I don’t want to be like that. I want him to be able to count on me always. I told him, more than a few times, that he can call me anytime.

Kids are so resilient. I wish I was that okay with things.

Looking forward to our next outing and I plan to keep this up when {if, gulp} I move back home.

custodial stepmom

excerpt from Becoming A Stepmom Aug 2008 Newsletter -

I {Jacquelyn Fletcher} asked Laura Ruby, author of I Am Not Julia Roberts (lauraruby.com) to answer some questions about her experience of becoming a stepmom.

1. What is your greatest challenge as a stepmom?

I think it is the general lack of control. I’m a custodial stepmom and my husband’s two girls live with us, so I am responsible for all the day-to-day stuff that happens with kids – meals, lessons, doctor’s appointments, help with homework, discipline, etc. Yet, I didn’t choose this house, the neighborhood we live in, the schools they attend, the doctors they visit, etc. I do have an influence, but it’s not the same. I liken the job of a stepmom to an adjunct faculty member at a college: You have all the same responsibilities as a professor, but without the respect or benefits.

I want to just stand back in shock and stare at this particular answer. It is like she spoke from my own mind. Only she said it so much better than I ever could. I want to print a copy and stick it to my F-N fridge.

She gets me.

I have tried so many times to explain to my husband how hard it is to be a stepmom. The toll it takes physically and emtionally. He thinks since we have been together for a few years so I should just be used to it. There should be any issues. WTF??? My husband lives in LaLa Land. Seriously.

When I moved in, my husband got a second income, a maid, a wife, a cook, a caregiver – among so many other things.

When I moved in, I got my first child {already at the age where he argues}, triple the amount of housework, cooking, cleaning, bills, responsibility.

And he expects that I have already adjusted to all this?!?

Let me clairfy another thing.

My stepson didn’t fall in love with me. I didn’t fall in love with my stepson. My husband and I fell in love. The kid and I were thrown together when I moved in. We do not have to like each other.

I know I am the adult, but that doesn’t mean I can keep a constant smile on my face and tell him I love him. I am still human. I get angry. I get frustrated. I get sad. When that happens, I go to my husband (if possible) and tell him what is going on and then I ask him to take some sort of action with my stepson because this is what my husband has asked me to do. I even go so far as to offer up a fitting punishment, just in case he wants my imput. Apparently, he doesn’t. In the end, I am the asshole. I handled the situation wrong. I brought my husband into the middle of the situation.

DAMNED IF I DO AND DAMNED IF I DON’T {definitely need shirt with that quote}

I work all day long. I come home and cook dinner. Most nights, I also do the dishes. I help with homework and school activities. I do the laundry because that is the one thing my husband would love for someone else to do for him. {sorry, I don’t mean to cackle so loud. I just resent that. who wouldn’t like to choose one thing in life for someone else to handle all the time? hey, how about you help raise my kid, share your money, get stepped on and then call it a day. isn’t that enough?} Every {sorry did you miss that? EVERY} Sunday, we are expected to go to his parent’s house for Sunday dinner. Did I mention that my only day off is Sunday? Not bitter, no. I also, do the grocery shopping, straighten the house every night and morning, look after the dogs {which aren’t mine, but who would go hungry most days without me}. I do the gift thinking, buying, wrapping, card shopping and make everyone sign the damn thing – for BOTH his and my family. I schedule hair cuts, doctor appointments, teeth cleanings AND I write them on a calendar that is kept on the fridge AND I remind my husband about the appointments. I know I am leaving a ton out here.

Seriously people, I would love to have a wife of my own someday. {just kidding, well, sort of} How about a secretary?

And you know what I get most days for doing ALL that EVERY day?

A nice grunt at dinner. Possibly a thank you. My husband and stepson’s quick exit after eating a meal. Comments like, “But I don’t like cassaroles, tomatoes, mushrooms.” Or, “You didn’t get the soap I need.” Or, “What do you mean you don’t want to go to Sunday dinner?” Or, “We don’t have money for YOUR vacation.”

And my all time favorite , “YOU DID IT WRONG.”

So yes, I completely and utterly resemble Laura Ruby’s answer.

Was that too bitchy?

A Career Girls Guide to Becoming a Stepmom

THERE IS HELP OUT THERE!!

I have been to the bookstore so many times, and no, not just because I love the bookstore and it is a good excuse to buy books, but really because I am always looking for stepmom books. Do these people at the bookstore think stepmoms don’t need help? Because there are NEVER any books on the subject. Do they think we can figure it out on our own? Or do they think we will ask our husbands? {now that is funny}

I really didn’t think it would ever be this hard. I mean I lived with my niece for more than six years of her life. I helped raise her. After I moved out, she spent weeks at a time with me. We never had any major problems. Really! I am so not lying. Could it be because she was raised in the same house as I was, with the same core values and priorities? I doubt it because my sister is completely different than me and we were raised during the same time period.

Let me start from the beginning -

He’s a boy. Now I know you think this isn’t a big deal, but I have spent my whole life hiding from men. My purpose was NOT to be noticed. I didn’t like when men gave me attention.

Second, outside of my father, I have never lived with a man. And now I live with TWO. They dress different, talk different, eat different, bathe different, walk different. Seriously, my home is a foreign country to me.

Third, I am very, very conservative. I don’t dress in front of anyone, not even my mother. I don’t walk around naked. I watched a porn video in fourth grade and was scarred for life. I don’t even look at myself naked. Now every time I turn around there is some naked guy – whether 9 years old or 31 – it still shocks me.

Four, I really, really like structure, rules, boudaries. These men have been trained from birth to not follow any rule. They are like army guys. They have their own CODE. Do they bother to tell me the code? No, then they would have to kill me. At least my code is in a really nice easy to read list and posted on the fridge.

Crap, I digress.

So help is here! Stepmom’s of the world. Gather around there is a book that can help -

A Career Girls Guide to becoming a Stepmom

I can’t wait to read it and get back to you on my findings.

Thanks Jacque!!