Whoa

I'm sitting here and thinking.
Thinking of my daughter. And that is not such a remarkable thing. I think of her all the time.
But I have have been taking care of people for so long, that for a majority of that time I think of her as just another responsibility.
Halloween just past, and it marks an anniversary of a very tumultuous time for me. About 9 years ago, days before Halloween, my mother had my father arrested for something he didn't do. I can still here him screaming my name. He wasn't crying or calling out for her or his mother or anyone else when he was in the back of that car. He was calling for ME. He was crying. I remember the tears running down his face. So clearly. Crying and calling my name. And I couldn't go to him. I was stuck on my front porch looking at him in the car and hearing him all the way from the street. In his desperation he kicked the back window out of the police car. He called to me. Crying, screaming my name. "ashley. sweetie." i don't remember anything else he was saying. just calling "ashleeeeeeeeeeeeeey" " sweeeeetieeeee!!!!!!!!!!" And after he kicked the window out I ran. I remember the beads of sweat standing out all over his face and nose from the exertion. I remember the tears running down his face. The police had to call a paddy wagon to take him away. And when all the police were finally gone. I remember my mother on the porch leaving, saying she would take her boys but the little "whores" could stay. And then she left. And it was me and my sister. And I was wholly responsible for her. Just me. And a day or so later I realized it was Halloween. And while I had been keeping us clothed and fed-it was important that my little sister go trick or treating on Halloween. I dressed her in one of my old costumes. I believe it was a cheerleader. And took her up and down the four blocks nearest to my house. I carried no container, wore no costume, asked for no candy. I took my little sister trick or treating because it was Halloween and it she was my RESPONSIBILITY.

I forget sometimes, that Trinity is not only my responsibility, with the title of "daughter". But that she is my physical offspring. She is my firstborn. Not even her father can claim that of her. She is my FIRSTBORN child. Mine.
I made her. Out of nothing. I grew her in my body for 41 weeks. My body made everything about her. Her shining eyes. Her contagious smile. Her button nose. I successfully birthed her after 18 hours of hard, painful, mostly unmedicated labor. Birthed her whole-10 fingers, 10 toes. 19.5 inches and almost 8 lbs of pure, perfect Trin.
And all of the sudden it comes over me. That she is mine. I am her only mother. The only one ever. I made her. I took care of her-before she was even born. I quit smoking, quit drinking, quit any and all drugs except for tylenol for the sake of her well being. Choked down a giant prenatal vitamin and an iron supplement on top of it everyday just for her. All these memories overtake me. Holding her for the first time, looking at her, trying to focus on such a little face without my glasses. Kissing her for the first time. Her crawling. Her first words. Her first steps. Her in her first real halloween costume, we didn't even bother taking a 14 month old trick or treating. we took pictures and that was that. I think of her Cheshire cat grin now and remember how she didn't get teeth until she was nearly two years old and how worried I was. I blamed myself. "My stupid body", I thought "didn't even make her a set of teeth! What the hell is she gonna do without teeth!" I remember her passing out in the back seat as I made door to door deliveries for hospice for hours on end after I lost my job and van went away. Her in her Christmas outfit on Christmas eve drinking her bottle and waking up with her, just her, on Christmas morning to open presents "from Santa" my wonderful, WONDERFUL friends were nice enough to buy since I was absolutely flat broke. I remember leaving her for 3 WHOLE DAYS with someone for the first time since Beitris, before them I had never been away from her for a couple hours and it was almost a traumatic experience. But we needed money for rent and food and I had to do it and when I finally got my baby back in my arms......oh. I remember those days. Just me and Trin. Just us. And it seemed like the whole world was against us. The car accident that destroyed our only working vehicle. She didn't cry right away, she was in shock, but she HOWLED later. And it seemed like whenever we NEEDED food it would snow a mile high and make the stroller impossible to push.
She's been with me through so much, and I have always taken care of her. But she is not just a responsibility like my brothers and sister are when my parents aren't well enough to care for them or like my parents are when they are not well enough to take care of themselves.
SHE IS MY DAUGHTER.
AND THAT IS FUCKING AMAZING.
I have a daughter. Trinity Nerea Thompkins. That's her name. I picked it.
She's my daughter. Mine. No one else can claim to be her mother in word or in deed. I take good care of her but that is to be expected-and her only purpose by me She's a good girl. She's sweet and she's smart and she tells her father that he is her best friend, ALWAYS-and I act jealous but it doesn't bother me one bit. Inside I am bursting with pride. My little one has picked the same person to be her best friend that I have-and that means I am doing SOMETHING right.
God-I love her. I million of her smiles flash through my head. She's so amazing.

And she's mine.

Hmmmm.... Stepwifery anyone????

Level One - "If I Can't See It, It Doesn't Exist"

The Ex-wife - She is just beginning to hear rumors of her ex going out with a "steady" girlfriend through common friends, family, or perhaps her children. While she has some concerns, she goes about her life in denial regarding the possibility of another woman entering into her world.

The Stepmom - She is dating a man that appears to be " the one." She may hear about or even meet his children and starts to fantasize about helping him raise them. The stepmom starts getting more and more information about the ex-wife through the Man in the Middle.

The Stepwife Relationship - There is little contact between the stepwives at this time because the ex-husband's relationship with his "girlfiend" is so new. The Man in the Middle doesn't want his ex-wife to interfere with this new, possibly long term relationship. He's happy, yet cautious.


Level Two - "It's Time to Face the Music"

The Ex-wife - She finds out the girlfriend is now the Man in the Middle's fiance. Her feelings are mixed: fear, curiosity (especially if she hasn't met her), insecurity, shock, and anger. Her natural maternal instincts start revving up to protect her children from this possible enemy. Even if she has thoughts of being nice to the soon to be stepmom, they are superceeded by her feelings of terror about this woman taking her place.

The Stepmom - She is absolutely ecstatic about finding the man of her dreams. Whether it is a second marriage or not, she has now found a partner in life. Her thoughts are dominated by plans for her wedding and how she will fulfill her role as wife and stepmom. While she has heard stories about the ex-wife, she feels she can overcome just about any problem. Her EXPECTATIONS may not be REALISTIC regarding her ability to befriend the ex-wife.

The Stepwife relationship - The stepwives usually meet each other at this time, even if the encounter is brief. Perhaps the almost stepmom will be in the car when the Man in the Middle picks up the children, or she will be at their home when the ex-wife picks them up. There will be a lot of visual "checking out" by both stepwives. The ex-wife may experience fears of looking older, and to an even greater extent, have increasing worries of being replaced by this other woman. The stepmom is somewhat cautious, but as a rule allows the Man in the Middle to call most of the shots and do most of the communication with his ex-wife.


Level Three - "The Pre-war Tango"

The Ex-wife - With her ex-husband now married, she now must share her children with another "mother." Even if her intentions are good regarding her children's stepmother, she is guarded and will start to control the situation if she feels that she is not made privy to information regarding her children, or if she feels threatened. Being slightly threatened can mean many things; talked to in a particular tone of voice or looked at in a particular way. Of course, there are some ex-wives who behave in an overly controlling manner whether provoked by the stepmother or not. She will give the stepmom one chance to be civil. If she fails, it's all out war!

The Stepmom - She still may have every intention of getting along, but is leery of what she has heard regarding the ex-wife. She's willing to be civil, but her guard is naturally up as well. She believes she can "win over" the ex-wife and gain her approval. Of course there are some stepmoms that move in too fast. They don't give the ex-wife an opportunity to get used to their involvement in the children's lives, and they are unaware that their "participation" in the children's lives is extremely threatening to the mother.

The Stepwife relationship - At this stage, there is more contact between the stepwives. If the Man in the Middle has given the stepmother free rein regarding parental duties, these women will interact more. If he plays a more active role in parenting, the contact will remain minimal between the two women. Whether or not the stepmom moves in too fast, she will just naturally be a threatening force to the ex-wife


Level Four - "Let the Games Begin"

The Ex-wife - She's tried to be nice and guess what? The stepmom flunked the test. Whether the stepmother actually said something hurtful to her, looked at her wrong, was late in picking up her children, or had lunch with "her" old friend, the ex-wife is angry and upset. As she becomes more fearful that her children will love their stepmom more than her, anger, depression and feelings of being out of control take over. Before this new woman appeared, she was able to have more influence over her ex-husband's decisions. Now he's listening to someone else and she feels left out in the cold. This tenuous feeling can manifest itself by the ex-wife attempting to exert even more control over the stepmother.

The Stepmom - She's now going into this relationship in 5th gear. She's happy, she's mothering, and she's feeling justified about her participation as a stepmother. The ex-wife may feel the stepmother has no boundaries whether it's true or not. At the same time, the stepmom is also becoming more irritated with the ex-wife's behavior, mainly because she does not understand that the ex-wife is feeling threatened and replaced. She is angry because the ex-wife doesn't appreciate her enthusiasm or her love for the children. The stepmother may be complaining more and more to the Man in the Middle. The part he plays in this conflict will have a direct affect on the stepwife relationship.

The Stepwife relationship - The battle is raging. The ex-wife's self-fulfilling prophecy that the wicked stepmother is alive and well and taking over her role as mother has come to be. The ex-wife's perception is that the stepmother appears to be everywhere. She is feeling threatened and despondent. As a result, she may attempt to control the situation by badmouthing and making additional demands on the Man in the Middle and her stepwife. The stepmother, on the other hand, feels like the evil ex-wife is invading her space. Her enthusiasm is now turning into "I'll show you" energy. She continues invading the ex-wife's space and badmouths the ex-wife in front of her husband and the children. She feels she has the right to raise these children her way as long as she was "put" into the role of their caretaker. Now the stepmother's marriage is strained.


Level 5 "Full Scale War"

The Ex-wife - The war has escalated. If the ex-wife is not able to ACKNOWLEDGE the importance of PUTting THE KIDS FIRST, she will probably be seeing her ex and stepwife in court. The ex-wife has trouble getting past her rage and hurt and remains a victim. She feels her only hope of keeping her kids on her side is through obtaining more custody, financial support, and turning them against the perceived "bad guys." COMMUNICATION with the stepmom and Man in the Middle is basically through a third party. The children are truly prisoners of war.

The Stepmom - Whether or not she has support from the Man in the Middle, she is disgusted, exhausted and having thoughts of "getting out of this mess." This was not part of the fantasy. She, too, becomes a victim, and is unable to see how she has participated in creating conflict in the stepwife relationship.

The Stepwife relationship - We are back to little or no COMMUNICATION. Both women are hurt and misunderstood. If for a split second, either is thinking about being nice, it quickly disappears as soon as there is an exchange of words or negative reaction…perceived or real. Both women are feeling hopeless and stuck, as though there is no resolution to their situation.

It is easy to see how volatile the stepwife relationship can be. Without a clear cut plan for dealing with the conflicts, it is almost certain the stepwives will reach a point of no return resulting in yet, another failed marriage.

Remember: It doesn't matter what level of the developmental stage you are engaged in at this time. By practicing and committing yourself to a "different" relationship with your stepwife, you have already begun the process of positive change.

The Tightrope One Must Walk

My nine-year-old stepson Adam and I were coming home from Kung Fu. "Maureen," Adam said--he calls me 'Maureen' because he was seven when Bob and I got married and that was what he had called me before. "Maureen," Adam said, "are we going to have a Christmas tree?"

"Yeah," I said, "of course." After thinking a moment. "Adam, why didn't you think we were going to have a Christmas tree?"

"Because of the new house," he said, rather matter-of-fact. "I thought you might not let us."

It is strange to find that you have become the kind of person who might ban Christmas Trees.

We joke about me being the evil stepmother. In fact, the joke is that I am the Nazi Evil Stepmother From Hell. It dispels tension to say it out loud. Actually, Adam and I do pretty good together. But the truth is that all stepmothers are evil. It is the nature of the relationship. It is, as far as I can tell, an unavoidable fact of step relationships.

We enter into all major relationships with no real clue of where we are going; marriage, birth, friendship. We carry maps we believe are true; our parent's relationship, what it says in the baby book, the landscape of our own childhood. These maps are approximate at best, dangerously misleading at worst.

Dysfunctional families breed dysfunctional families. Abuse is handed down from generation to generation. That it's all the stuff of 12 Step programs and talk shows doesn't make it any less true or any less profound.

The map of step parenting is one of the worst, because it is based on a lie. The lie is that you will be mom or you will be dad. If you've got custody of the child, you're going to raise it. You'll be there, or you won't. Either I mother Adam and pack his lunches, go over his homework with him, drive him to and from Boy Scouts, and tell him to eat his carrots, or I'm neglecting him. After all, Adam needs to eat his carrots. He needs someone to take his homework seriously. He needs to be told to get his shoes on, it's time for the bus. He needs to be told not to say 'shit' in front of his grandmother and his teachers.

But he already has a mother, and I'm not his mother, and no matter how deserving or undeserving she is or I am,I never will be. He knows it, I know it. Stepmother's don't represent good things for children. When I married Adam's father it meant that Adam could not have his father and mother back together without somehow getting me out of the picture. It meant that he would have to accept a stranger who he didn't know and maybe wouldn't really like into his home. It meant he was nearly powerless. It doesn't really matter that Adam's father and mother weren't going to get back together, because Adam wanted to see his mom, and he wanted to be with his dad, and the way that it was easiest for him to get both those things was for his parents to be together.

It's something most stepparents aren't prepared for because children often court the future stepparent. You're dating, and it's exciting. Adam was excited that his father was going to marry me. He wanted us to do things together. But a week before the wedding, he also wanted to know if his mother and father could get back together. It wasn't that he didn't understand that the two things were mutually exclusive, it was more that they were unrelated for him. When I came over I was company, it was fun. But real life was mom and dad.

Marriage stopped that. That is the first evil thing I did.

The second evil thing that stepparents do is take part of a parent away. Imagine this, you're married, and your spouse suddenly decides to bring someone else into the household, without asking you. You're forced to accommodate. Your spouse pays attention to the Other, and while they are paying attention to the Other, they are not paying attention to you. Imagine the Other was able to make rules. In marriages it's called bigamy, and it's illegal.

What's worse for the child is that they have already lost most of one parent. Now someone else is laying claim on the remaining parent. The weapons of the stepchild are the weapons of the apparently powerless, the weapons of the guerilla. Subterfuge. Sabotage. The artless report of the hurtful things his real mother said about you. Disliking the way you set the table, not wanting you to move the furniture. And stepchildren--even more than children in non-step relationships--are hyperalert to division between parent and stepparent.

I was thirty-three when I married, I had no children of my own and never wanted any. I'm a book person, so before I got married I went out and bought books about being a stepmother. I asked that we all do some family counseling before and during the time we were getting married. The books painted a dismal picture. Women got depressed. Women felt like maids. Women got sick. There were lots of rules--the child needs to spend some time alone with their natural parent and some time alone with their stepparent in a sort of round robin of quality time; a stepmother should have something of her own that gives her a feeling of her own identity; don't move into their house, start a new house together if you possibly can.

I liked that there were rules so I followed them and they helped a lot (even though I suspect that, like theories of child-raising, our theories of step relationships are a fad and the advice in the books will all be different fifty years from now.) But I was still evil, and that was the most disheartening thing of all. I felt trapped in role not my own choosing. Becoming a stepmother redefined who I am, and nothing I did could resist that inexorable redefining. I suppose motherhood redefines who you are, too. Part of the redefinition of me has been just that--sitting on the bench with the row of anxious mothers at the little league game or at martial arts. Going to school and being Adam's mother. Being Adam's mom. It has made me suddenly feel middle-aged in funny ways. I used to go through the grocery line and buy funky things like endive, a dozen doughnuts, a bottle of champagne and two tuna steaks. Now I buy carts full of cereal and hamburger and juice boxes. I used to buy overpriced jackets and expensive suits. Now I go to Sears and buy four sweat shirts and two packages of socks in the boys department.

When I bought endive and champagne, the check out clerk used to ask me what I was making. But no one asks you what you are making when you buy cereal and hamburger.

Beyond all this loomed the specter of Adam at sixteen. The rebellious teenage boy from the broken home, hulking about the house, always in trouble, always resentful. Like many stepchildren, Adam came with an enormous amount of behavioral baggage. He acted out the tensions of his extended family. He was sullen, tearful, resentful of me and equally resentful of his mother. I knew that Adam was the victim in all this, but when you're up to your ass in alligators, it is hard to remember that your original intention is to drain the swamp. I had read that I would be resentful, but nothing prepared me for a marriage that was about this alien child. I didn't marry Adam, he didn't marry me, and yet that is what my marriage came down to. By the time Adam was dealt with, my husband and I were too exhausted to be married.

My relationship with Adam was good, better than the relationships described in all those books. He was a happier, healthier, more behaved child than he was when I married Bob--after all, it is easier to parent when there are two of you. People complimented me on what a fine job I had done. I was the only one who suspected that there was a coldness in the center of our relationship that Adam and I felt. I could console myself that he was better off than he was before I married Bob, and he was. But I knew that something was a lie.

One day Adam said angrily that I treated the dog better than I treated him. Of course, I liked the dog, the dog adored me, and Adam, well Adam and I had something of a truce. The kind of relationship a child would have with an adult who might ban Christmas trees from the house. So the accusation struck home.

I started to deal with my stepson the way I deal with my dog. Quite literally. A boy and a stepmother have a strange tension in a physical relationship. I hug Adam and I kiss him on the forehead, on the nose, anywhere but on the mouth. I am careful about how I touch him. I suspect that the call from Child Protective Services is the nightmare of every step parent. But after that comment I began to ruffle his hair the way I ruffle the dog's ears. I rubbed Adam's back. I petted him. I occasionally gave Adam a treat, the way I occasionally give the dog one. At first it was all calculated, but within a very short time, it was natural to reassure Adam.

It has made all the difference.

Adam is almost twelve, and the specter of delinquent teenager in the dysfunctional family still haunts me, but it doesn't seem so likely at the moment. As Adam grows older, my husband and I have more time to be married.

Speaking from the land of the step parent, I tell you, this business of being evil is hard. It is very hard. Being a step parent is the hardest thing I have ever done. And what rewards there are, are small. No one pats me on the head for having given up the pleasures of endive and champagne and tuna steaks for spaghetti sauce and hamburger. That's what mothers do. Except, of course, they get to be the mom.



-by Maureen Hughes

First ever VOICEBLOG post-YES I AM GETTING HIGH-TECH ON YOUR ASSES!

moment of truth

well it is here. report card day. i'm scared. i'm totally apprehensive. i really hope with every fiber of my being that they are doing better, but in my guts....i think i know better. We tried-we did everything that was in our power to do. Their progress reports were AWFUL. Seriously, when I look at them I am almost physically ill. They've never done this poorly. Saturnina is usually a straight A student. And we all know what the problem is. It can be left unsaid because of it's sheer obviousness. But we laid down the law. Their BM wasn't willing to cooperate so we did our best-no tv, xbox, games, toys, movies, heelys, internet-no nothing-for the last five weeks. They have spent all their time here reading and writing stories and essays and working in their workbooks. And they have absolutely HATED us for it. Well, mostly hated me because they've been taught that everything that goes wrong is my fault and that if I wasn't around everyone would be happier and they'd get more stuff and get to go more places and do more things. It's not right but it's okay. I can take it. But I digress. They've been on lockdown over here for the last five weeks and it hasn't been fun for ANYONE-but we had to try our best to get them motivated to DO BETTER. And I really hope it paid off....

HURUMPH!

i don't know what that was. i guess it's some kind of sound my brain is making right now. our microwave exploded earlier. crap. crap. crap.
i never even realized how much i used it. till i went to make speghettios. and warm the water for the boys bottle. and i got a shit-ton of leftover chili and red beans and rigatoni and i can't heat that shit up!!!!!
wah-wah.
poor me.

lol

so the boy has one of the girls little keychains and i take it away from him so, you know, he doesn't choke and die. and he looks at me like "what the hell? why are you always taking shit away from me?" and in my HEAD i'm like "but i'm your mother-it's my JOB to take shit away from you." and this little dialouge that has played out IN MY HEAD, makes me just crack up. and because i start laughing he starts laughing and i can't help but wonder if maybe he thought the whole thing was hysterical too. i know he's only 9 months old and preverbal-but that doesn't mean he's doesn't already have my absurd sense of humor.
what?
stop looking at me like that.