Bah Humbug = The Blues

Maybe this song deserved a trigger alert?  The Emotions can rip your heart out of your chest and Alicia Keys wasn't too bad in that video either.

Despite my general chubbiness and fat, dimpled cheeks I am not actually inclined to jolliness-especially during the holiday season.

There are any number of reasons why.*  The main one is that as we have gotten older, my family and I have drifted farther and farther apart.  I remember as a child being excited and annoyed by the holidays.  Thanksgiving and Christmas meant visiting, which was fun, and having to share beds or sleep on the floor, which was not.  There would be family everywhere and plenty of people to play with.  We had a Christmas tree and Christmas decorations.  On Christmas day there would usually be at least one new toy for each kid but what I remember most, what I miss most, is the gathering together.

All of our holiday traditions were built around that homecoming.  My mother's family would gather at her sister's house in Montrose.  My father's family would descend on my grandmother's house in Blackwell.  I go to any one of those places on any major holiday and I could expect an overcrowded, overheated house with no place to sit, no privacy, and an eternal waiting list for the bathroom.

Things change.

People grew older and less able to do the holiday work.  Sons and daughters chipped in but then they moved farther away for work.  The road home became too long.  They stopped coming.  Brothers and sisters grew up and the life of the family wasn't enough to contain them.  Children left home and each year it became more and more difficult to haul the tree out of the box, to put up the decorations, to go through the motions.  The holiday shuffle ground to a halt.

I understood it, but I wasn't ready.  I decided to be bitter about Christmas in general instead of sad.

I was a teenager when I had to let go of those traditions.  Now I am an adult, one of the ones who moved too far from home to make the trip back.  Now I have my husband's family to consider, and a visitation arrangement that last year meant we spent six hours of Christmas day on the interstate.

This year, despite everything, I am going to try to do things differently.

*Not least of which is the expectation of jolliness.  Why force a person to pretend goodness and joy?  That's brutal.

Stepmothering: A Line on Discipline.

I'll just say it.

Us (not so) wicked stepmothers, or stepmothers in training, have a perspective on the children in our charge that parents don't have.  Our perspective is similar to that of teachers, caregivers, long-suffering library assistants, waitstaff, and other people that your kid comes in contact with daily.

He might be charming and super smart and funny and all that jazz. . .  but sometimes, your kid is a jerk.

We can see that in a way you can't but it doesn't mean we love them any less.  It doesn't mean we don't recognize their genius, or their personality, or their style.  It just means we don't think it's cute when someone has their cranky pants on.

This falls under the category of things that usually shouldn't be said.  But, well, twenty years from now who wants to be giving the "he was such a nice boy" interview?

Not me.  I draw a line at disciplining Little Bit physically . . . but I do advocate for it when his behavior warrants it.  Running away in a parking lots or in crowded malls.  Somebody needs a spanking.  Hitting, kicking or pushing Grandma or Grandpa.  Someone needs a time out, a talking to, and if he does it again, a taste of his own medicine.

I do, however, exercise my right to use time out as often as necessary.  I don't draw a hard line, but my line is probably a little more rigid than his mother's.  What do I expect from my four year old Litle Bit?  I expect him to respect his possessions.  I expect him to be considerate of his grandparents.  I expect him to listen to what we say.  I expect him to respect us.  (I also expect him to pee in the potty and all that but that's a whole 'nother kettle of fish.)  He can do that and if he chooses not to while visiting, he has to face the consequences.

I understand that it's probably easier for me.  I don't feel particularly burdened with an overwhelming need or desire to make sure Little Bit likes me.  Part of that is because I'm lucky that he's a toddler and not overly suspicious or mistrustful of people.  More to the point though, I don't think he has to like me.  He doesn't have to love me.  He's cool with me right now, but . .  . he's four.  That will probably change.

And that's fine.  In the meantime though, I won't be participating in raising a criminal mastermind.

Marrying a Man With a Child

Today I have a lot on deck.  Not only is this our weekend to have Wes' son, Little Bit, we will also be hosting his parents.  That means that in addition to my regular round of kinda-sorta kid-proofing we also--well, mostly me--need to really clean up this joint.  I also wanted to take a moment and write a little bit about this whole blended family to be thing.

Wes and the Little Bit at Watson Mill Bridge State Park-photo by Moi

Wes and I are getting married and part of that getting married bit means that I will soon be a full on wicked stepmother.  Sobering.  To say the least.  But, I feel oddly prepared and strangely qualified to be heading down the blended family, step parenting path.

I can't say the same for a few of my female friends.  They have very strict policies against dating men with children.  And. . . I get it.  I really do.  As I discussed with Wes fairly early on in our relationship, a man who has a child from a previous relationship, no matter his income or disposition, is generally met with hesitation.  Why?  Well, potential partners, if they are at all worth pursuing, will pause to consider the child.  Would I be good for this kid?  Would he like me?  If this goes somewhere am I ready to be that involved in a child's life?  Am I ready to be a parent?  Can I do this?  There are a lot of questions right off the bat and children change elemental things.

There is the attention factor to consider as well.  You know those early days of a relationship where both parties are completely focused on each other?  When there are children in the mix, they take priority.  Some people aren't comfortable with that and it can be difficult when you need your partner's attention or support and he or she is unable to give it.  It can be stressful for all parties.

And. . . well, I'll say it.  Children are not actually delivered by the stork so there is another individual all up in your daily mix and however awesome he or she might be . . .  from time to time you might find yourself with a sharp pain in the ass.  How do you deal with that?  How do you protect your position as girlfriend, fiance, or wife or whatever?  Do you even have the right to do that?

It boggles the mind.

All of these things have to be considered and dealt with when one is marrying a man with a child. 

As a former stepkid myself and possessor of a blended family I have decided ideas about how best to go about this.  Love helps.  I love Wes and I love his son.  What is important about that is that I love Little Bit for himself, not as just an extension of Wes.  Love lets me accept six hours on the road on Christmas Day because it's important that Little Bit get to celebrate with both sides of his family.  Love keeps my mouth shut when I really, really, reallllllly would like to SAY A COLLECTION OF THINGS about that post I saw on facebook . . . .etc., etc.

My philosopy is simple.  We are all your family.  I hold on to that when things get hard.