spontaneous combusion

I'm a spontaneous person. Always have been. Sometimes I spontaneously buy myself a new pair of earrings. Or decide on a whim to go to a movie by myself. Sometimes I even book Hubs and I trip to a unique different just to keep things interesting. And this is a good thing. Spontaneity is important in a marriage, in a family, even for an individual. Life can be a series of long repetitions, so breaking that monotony up is vital to keeping us from spontaneously driving off of a bridge.

But as with all things, there are exceptions. Spontaneity is no different. So, are you listening? No, of course you aren't, you're reading. But do I have your undivided attention? Cuz this one is a doozie. And if you let me enlighten you, you don't have to learn the hard way like I did.

Never. Spontaneously. Engage. Written. Contact. With. Mama. Ex.

Ever.

Now that's a broad subject, so let me narrow it down. Clearly, you are going to have to communicate with Mama Ex at one point or another. But, never, ever, under any circumstances, should you ever communicate with the mother of your stepchildren in the following ways without thinking it all the way through:

• Texts
• Emails
• Social Media
•  Reviews of her business/job
• Handwritten anything

I could tell you some really interesting stories from each of those categories, but today I think we'll stick with numero uno. Texts.

The invention of texts was great. It made quick, easy communication simple and quick. Unfortunately, it also enabled every passive aggressive person on the planet to become even more passive aggressive-ier.

At the beginning of my marriage to Hubs, texts from Mama Ex were few and far between, and mostly short and to the point. Little things. "Pick up the girls at 5 instead of 5:30", or, "remember to bring their soccer clothes on Monday," etc. But, when it was discovered by Mama Ex that we were indeed asking for more time with the children through a change in the parenting plan, the nice texts dissolved into a barrage of mean, nasty, passive aggressive texts that left very little to the imagination in regards to how Mama Ex felt about the situation. And about me.

Hubs was always very good about staying above the fray. Mama Ex would text something horribly mean and cruel, such as, "The girls hate going to your house because you don't feed them for two days straight and they starve at your house." Clearly, a lie and clearly, a taunt to get a response back. No matter how many times I begged Hubs to respond with something - ANYTHING - his reply was always, "there is no use arguing over texts. She just wants a response. I'm not giving it to her."

I thought he was nuts. 

Why on earth wouldn't you DEFEND yourself against such accusations? I mean, this person is making up blatant lies about you and telling them to God knows who, and you don't want to at least tell her she's wrong? 

This went on for many months. Mama Ex texting mean and hateful things, Hubs ignoring her. I don't know if she got bored or just tired of the non-replies, but eventually she tried a new tactic. She attacked me in her texts. One day, Hubs received a text from Mama Ex, basically saying, "My girls hate Ruby. She is a terrible stepmom, blah blah blah." Nothing I hadn't heard before, but still, it hurt. I, like so many other stepmoms, work very hard on establishing a great relationship with my stepdaughters, and have never heard one word of complaint from their mouths. I waited for Hubs to reply. Nothing.

Okay, not cool.

I could deal with Hubs letting texts about him fly, but this was different. I'm his wife and this woman is attacking me! Why wouldn't he stand up to me? I won't lie, this was the subject of many fights in our household, but Hubs stood strong. He reiterated each time that replying with a retort would just stir the pot and make things worse. He would reply to her sane texts, and nothing more.

I kind of wanted to strangle him.

So, fast forward to about 9 months later. We're in court, and evidence is being sifted through, bit by bit. I couldn't be in the courtroom (look up the witness rule if you want to be ahead of the game on that one), so I had to hear about everything second hand after the whole debacle was complete. 

And one thing blew my mind. Hubs was right. All along. 

His philosophy on return angry messages to Mama Ex, spewing back her own venom, would have done nothing to help our case. In fact, once, as Hubs read from the vile laundry list of texts he received, the judge sat, shaking her head. She let him finish and then said, "and what was your reply to all of this?" And Hubs could say, honestly, "there is no reply from me." He could even show 7 or 8 texts in a row of Mama Ex's verbal diarrhea, with nothing negative back from him. He never gave into her goading or taunting. He never said one bad word about the mother of his children.

When it was all said and done, we didn't get half of what we wanted in court (ah, the "justice" system), but imagine if Hubs HAD replied the way Mama Ex wanted him to? Even just once. Imagine if he had given in and spontaneously, in (justified) anger, called her a terrible name? Think about it.The family justice system isn't exactly kind to fathers to begin with. They already have more of a "you're guilty until proven innocent" approach to Dads (at least in the midwest). One bad word from Hubs about Mama Ex could have easily been spun into a "potentially abusive man" case by her lawyer. It wouldn't have taken much. And who knows what then? Maybe our custody would have been reduced. Maybe it wouldn't have. The point is, he never responded in spontaneous anger, so she had nothing to hang him on. And, in the end, she just looked angry, desperate and mean, while he looked calm, collected and sane. He looked like the ADULT. Court is all about what's best for the kids, right? So shouldn't one of the parents be an actual adult about things? Mmmm hmmm. 

Smart man, that Hubs.

My point is, in split family situations, you are always under the microscope. Even if your case has been settled and you think there's NO WAY you'll ever end up in the courtroom, always remember that anything can happen. You will be scrutinized even harder because of your "step" status. Don't ever give anyone ammo to make you look bad, especially someone who may really be looking for it. Be strong, be kind and be professional. 

Be spontaneous about those new Michael Kors pumps. Don't be spontaneous about Mama Ex.

somebody's watching me...

When I was little, my dad was very fond of the phrase, "they don't make 'em like they used to." He used it as a blanket generalization for essentially anything about my childhood that differed from his.

He had heavy blankets for the winter months. I had a space heater. 
They don't make 'em like they used to.

As a teen, he'd pick up the phone to see who was calling. I had caller ID.
They don't make 'em like they used to.

His recreational time was used by going outside to play. I had Nintendo.
They don't make 'em like they used to.

You get the point. I used to laugh at my dad for being so out of touch, for not understanding that times were changing and things couldn't always be the way they once were. I so badly wanted him to grow and change along with the rest of the world. 

Until I became a stepmother. And now I totally get it. 

I understand that the world of technology is getting faster and more advanced every day, and to an extent, it doesn't bother me. After all, I, myself enjoy being able to have my email accessible to me at all hours of the day. I think it's awesome that I can use FaceTime to see one of my best friend's in Dallas. But when it comes to my stepkids...I'm not 100% on board with all the accessibility.

When I was a teenager (which was actually not that long ago), I liked boys. Duh. But in order to tell a boy I liked him, I only had about two options to convey that message.

1) Get a friend to tell him in a very sing-songey voice, "I know someone that liiiiikes you."

2) Tell him on the phone.

3) Tell him in person.

All three of those options required either a voice-to-voice or face-to-face connection by parties involved. True, I guess I could have written him a note, but who had time for that nonsense when "Saved By the Bell" reruns were on? No, back in the late 90's, if you liked a guy, you had to figure out a way to grow a pair of lady balls and tell him. 

Such is no longer the case.

My 13 year old SD has had five boyfriends this year alone. Here are some interesting statistics surrounding these relationships:

• Each boyfriend has lasted less than 4 days.
• One of her boyfriends she never spoke to voice to voice or face to face because they went to different schools. 
• One of the boyfriends she had never even met face to face...ever.
• All five breakups were at the hands of a text message.

Does this sound fun? Am I old and ridiculous? I mean, how can one expect to learn how to have a relationship with someone when they can't even sit in front of them and have a real conversation? Also...what can she really know about these boys that she's dating if she has never even seen them in person or spoken to them voice to voice? How is she even learning how to have a proper relationship with another sex?

And that's where the problem lies. SD has a cell phone. In our home, we have a rule that her cell phone password must always be known by Hubs. He/we can look at her phone whenever we want. We can look at a text message she sends whenever we want. This isn't because we plan to invade her privacy. It is for her safety. Young kids do not always understand the implications of the things they send at the moment they send them. We want to protect her against pedophiles who pretend they're Katy Perry or Zac Efron. We want to protect her against bullying. We also want to be sure SHE is not bullying. 

Up until recently, everything was fine. We would intermittently check SD's phone to make sure she wasn't calling her friends fat whores or sending topless pictures to SUPERHOTXXX. We also keep her phone in our room at night to be sure she's not up until 3:00 every night texting. All was fine. She submitted her phone to us on our random checks without issue. Sure, she used some curse words occasionally, and even lost a few friends by making some bad decisions, but nothing to worry about. We knew kids have to make mistakes to learn.

Then, a few weeks ago, something changed. SD began to erase all her sent and received texts. She erased all of her photos and videos on a weekly basis. She became extremely protective of her phone and wanted us to stay far away from it.

We've asked SD to please not erase her text messages and photos. Specifically the photos. She argues back that there's nothing to be concerned about. Except that there is. Just last week, a friend of SD's SnapChatted a picture of herself in a bra to her boyfriend. She assumed the pic would be deleted as the app promises. And it was. But not before her boyfriend took a screen shot of the photo and sent it to all of his friends, mortifying the poor girl.

Teenagers don't always have the foresight to understand what kind of trouble and life damaging consequences surround phones and technology. It is for that reason that Hubs and I are considering installing a software on SD's phone that alerts us to every photo, text, SnapChat, etc that she sends or receives. This way, even if she tries to delete something, there's a chance we will still see it. We don't want to monitor everything, because she is a good kid and has a good head on her shoulders. However, how many times have we heard about a child who was being bullied so badly via text that they committed suicide? 

This isn't a decision we are taking lightly. If we do install the software, SD will know. I'm not about to James Bond her phone without telling her. We want her to understand that we're not trying to catch her doing something wrong. We trust her to make good decisions. But she may not be able to see past the nose on her face in some cases - and we have to be there to protect her.

Believe it or not, Hubs and I are pretty open to letting the kids make their own mistakes. After all, we did at that age. But the stakes and consequences in this day and age are different than they once were. That picture of me topless on game day in college? Three people have that photo and I know every one of them. If my SD did something like that now, 3,000 people could have it within seconds, and it could haunt her the rest of her life.

We have constant discussions about these things with the kids. Communication is always open, and it always will be. But like someone once said, "just because you have a umbrella doesn't mean it isn't going to rain." 

What do you think? Would you ever use a software to track your child's phone in an effort to make sure all was kosher?

Warped Reality

My hubby and I never thought we'd utter the words "Why can't she just like One Direction?". But we did.

Somewhere in the last thirty days we've gone from having a british obsessed laughy happy teen who is O.B.S.E.S.S.E.D. with the likes of Harry, Nial and some other names I do not know but adorn the walls of her bedroom (every squre inch to be exact) to a girl with tears because she wants to attend some all day shindig with bands who look like miniature Marilyn Manson protégées and her parents are not super excited about it. What the F??

Now, I'm perfectly sympathetic to changing the tone of your tunes as a teen because some boy you have the latest crush on totally wants a chick who knows all the words to Ruby Soho but wanting to dress up like this guy:

for Halloween and calling him your "hero" has struck a not so happy nerve in our house. Oh and don't say that he looks like a guy from Kiss because that will also create a hysteria fueled, eye rolling arguement you don't want any part of. We aren't sure what is driving this change but we're willing to do what we can to curb it -- and quick.
....
A couple of weeks ago ago hubby and I were sitting on the couch, enjoying a perfectly relaxing evening when we noticed a new post by B on her Facebook.

"OMG..My parents are SO MEAN!! I'm probably going to be in trouble for posting this but they don't understand my EnTirE world revolves around (insert band names). They won't let me go to Warped Tour!!! Who else is going?? MY LIFE IS OVER!!! I'm going to be 14 and a half when it's here!! This is DUMB! They think there will be smoking and drugs and fighting. They don't know anything about concerts - I'VE DONE MY RESEARCH"

Naturally we ignore the rant and keep an eye on the comments. It seems little Miss Drama-Never-Been-to-a-Concert's friends weren't piping up about how awful we were in a timely enough fashion that the post was hastily removed after a few minutes. Oh the need for likes and social gratification. Even with the post missing the hint dropping over tickets for Christmas kept up over the next week or so. This wasn't going away and we needed a plan.

While most parents would stick to their guns and decide the all day band fest is no place for their kid, we chose another path. We have called her bluff. We have now offered to take her and ALL her friends (because EVERYONE she knows is going) that want to go as long as she pays her own admission. All the headbanging, face painted, ear wrenching jam fest she can handle -- as she sits next to her dad and me. For us, we think this phase is about the attention she wants or some boy she's crushing on rather than the true desire to attend this show. Only time will tell if she will back off this or not but in the mean time - we're planning our outfits and stocking up on studded collars -- and ear plugs.

Have you ever been tested by your teen? Did you pass the test or get schooled?

To be continued....

 

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An Outsider Finally Feeling In

Since meeting my stepkids, I've always felt like an outsider when they are with my husband and I.  Their inside jokes, years of history and their ability to know just what each other is thinking without saying the words.  


My husband is an amazing father.  He knows his kids inside and out, just like any father should.  He knows what they like to eat, what they will watch when it comes to movie time, what their argument will be for not wanting to take a shower...everything.  And they know him.   Dad likes this.  Dad doesn't do that.  Dad always wears this on game days.  Dad love this.  Dad doesn't have that.  The words "he never liked that before" or "if it weren't for you, Dad wouldn't do that" seem to ring in our house constantly. 


I feel like I'm always failing when it comes to being a part of their crowd.  Pizza night? I order from the wrong place, or the wrong kind.  Movies?  We've seen that already. Dad would have known.  Dad knows what we like.  Dad makes my (fill in the blank) the way I like them.  Why doesn't Dad just make dinner?  We play this game with Dad, not that one.  Dad. Is. Perfect. (I hear: why are you here??)


Yet, even with Super Dad in place, the five of us still do everything together when they're at our house.  But at times it feels like the four of them would be better off without me.  I don't understand the ongoing battle for superiority in mini golf when we play.  I don't know who gets to hold the popcorn when we go to the movies. Even this summer when we went on their annual family vacation (much longer post on that later), I was experiencing things with their family for the first time yet this was old hat to the kids and my husband.  What I found to be exciting, was merely old news.  All of their habits have been established years before I came into the picture.  And seem to be set in stone.  Really big, super glued and concreted stone.


I've always felt I just don't have a place.  Until the other day.


We went to visit my folks while they were on one of their camping excursions and while I was inside the camper helping my mom prep for dinner, the kids and their dad were outside playing a game, "Who Knows Dad The Best".  My SD yells to me that I should play too.  This felt like a trap.  I got a knot in my stomach the size of a soccer ball wondering if they were going to point and laugh at me setting me up for failure.  Knowing that the kids would surely know everything about their dad and I'd only have what I've learned about him in the two years we've been together.  


So I tell her I'm going to be a little while but to go ahead without me.  I'd help them if they got stuck on something they didn't know.  All the while I'm trying to tell myself I'd give anything to win that game.


So, as I am licking the frosting off the spoon mixing up the frosting for cupcakes, I overhear the game begin.


"What is Dad's favorite food?".  Duh, sushi I think to myself.  


"Besides, sushi..." Crap, I would have nailed that one!  


The kids throw out their answers of tacos, steak...a lot of um...and I dunno's...and finally the youngest, my 7 year old stepson says, "Lasagna".  Of course.  This is right and I'm proud of him for knowing (while mentally high fiving myself).


The questions continue from "Dad's favorite sport" to "Dad's favorite color"...easy questions.


And then it happened.  The questions got harder and the kids were stumped.  They didn't know what his favorite time of year was.  They didn't know what his favorite soda was.  They didn't know his favorite vacation or even his favorite band.  


And I did!


Then the questions turned to the kids' favorites.  And this time, Dad didn't know them!  


And I did!!!


And though I wasn't outside playing along with them, I had a feeling inside that I had never had before.  For the first time I was thinking that I might actually "get them".  And maybe next time we did something together, I'd have a chance of doing it right.  Or anticipating their wants.  


This one little tiny moment of shimmering hope stood in my mind and shrunk down that soccer ball in my stomach.  


For the first time, something as simple as knowing my step son's favorite color was yellow, when their Dad didn't, made me feel like the Queen of the United States I wasn't always going to be an outsider.  Like all of my hard work in trying to learn everything about them was finally starting to stick.


When I became a Stepmom, I expected everything to fall in line and to be able to step into their lives and fit like a perfect puzzle.  I had been able to do that with my husband and figured the kids would be just as easy.  I. Was. Wrong.  


It hasn't been all rainbows and butterflies but finally, I'm feeling like I am making strides with the kids and we are starting to build our own super glued concrete rock.  It may have really rough edges, and may not always stick together just perfect, but it is ours.  And it is a start.


What was your "I Fit!!" moment with your new family?  Did it take time or was it instant?