gray matters

Is anyone still reading this blog?? :-)

So sorry for the absence, step bloggies. Life sometimes just gets in the way, right? Well no worries - I'm back, and soon enough, Lady will be as well.

During my absence, so many things have happened that I feel you stepmoms can identify with. One of them is really bugging me.

Asking permission.

As a stepmom, I feel like I'm constantly having to ask for permission to do something I know is right. But, because I'm not "the mom", I have to get approval from either Mama Ex or my husband. 

Don't get me wrong, some things are seriously not okay for me to decide:

• Tampons for my oldest stepdaughtesr? Not my call. 
• HPV shot for my stepdaughters? Not my call.
• Allowing my stepdaughter to go on a date for the first time? Not my call.

These are just no-brainers. But in-between the obvious legal decisions, health decisions and black and white issues, there is some gray area - and that's where stepmoms live.

Right smack dab in the middle of the gray.

Here's an example:

Earlier this week, my stepdaughters both had an orthodontist appointment. They're each at the age where braces are probably going to be needed so they don't end up looking like Jewel. Hubs was working and unable to make the appointment. Mama Ex was supposed to go, but at the last minute opted out because she couldn't get off of work, either.

So it was on me.

I picked up the girls from school at 11:00 and went to the appointment. I listened, took notes, asked questions...all on behalf of both biological parents. I even made sure to mention that I was just a stepmom, and would have to get back to the orthodontist about whether we would continue with treatment. I was happy to do it all of this. It made me feel like I actually matter in this family. Both Hubs and Mama Ex couldn't be there, so good ol' stepmom stepped up to the plate and did what needed to be done. YAY ME!

The good feeling didn't last.

The appointment ended around 1:15, and the girls still needed lunch. We grabbed a bite quickly, but by the time it was all said and done, the clock read 1:48. School ends at 2:15. It made zero sense to return the girls to school for less than 30 minutes, especially since the classes they were missing were art and choir. I called Hubs and told him I was just going to take the girls back to our house and they could spend the rest of the afternoon finishing homework from their classes earlier in the day. He approved and that was that.

A few minutes after returning home, my youngest stepdaughter's phone rang. It was Mama Ex checking to see how the appointment went. This is the convo I heard:

T: Hi, Mommy!

Mama Ex: (inaudible)

T: Yes, it went great! I do need braces and maybe even an expander thing to make my jaw wider! It was fun to see the pictures of my teeth on this big TV!

Mama Ex: (inaudible)

T: Yeah, we got some lunch that Ruby took us to get. So now I'm just on my bed at Daddy's house doing homework.

Mama Ex: (inaudible)

T: Because Ruby just took us home after lunch and the appointment. Why are you yelling?

Mama Ex: (inaudible)

T: (starts crying) I'm sorry! I didn't think it would matter! Please don't be mad!!

***
 
This went on for several minutes, and though I couldn't hear the other side of the convo, I could easily glean that Mama Ex was less than thrilled that I didn't take the girls back to school after the appointment. 

I'll be honest with you - I never thought it would be that big of a deal. Did I make a minor decision without asking Mama Ex? Yes. But I did ask Hubs and he was fine with it, and as their father, he has that right.

Of course Hubs got an immediate call from Mama Ex, explosively angry that I had the audacity to make a parental decision to not return her children to school.

BACK UP THE TRUCK.

Let me get this straight - I took 2.5 hours out of my day to take these kids to an orthodontist appointment on behalf of the biological parents, and that was fine. I listened to a doctor explain what procedures these children needed on behalf of the biological parents, and that was fine. I asked questions about the procedures and cost of this orthodontia work on behalf of the biological parents, and that was fine. I use my own insurance to get $1,000 per child covered if we move forward with the treatment...and that is fine. But making a common sense decision to let the kids miss 25 minutes of school is unacceptable and completely outside my boundaries?

Did I miss something?

The bottom line is, Mama Ex didn't like that I made a decision without her. As long as she knows exactly what I'm doing with her children and when I'm doing it, all is well. But the minute I step outside what she is expecting, all hell breaks loose.

And that isn't fair.

You can't trust someone to be there for important medical procedures/consultations, and not trust them to make a truly insignificant choice about 25 minutes of school. You either trust me, or you don't.

Pick a lane.

Is that too much to ask?


Has this ever happened to you? Do you feel like one minute you're worthy of parental decisions, and the next you're no different than a babysitter? Tell me how you feel in the comments!

look back, learn forward

I really fly by the seat of my pants when it comes to the subjects I write about on this blog. Sometimes it's about Mama Ex, sometimes it's about the stepkids, sometimes it's about my infertility journey relative to being a step parent.

I apologize if this gives all of you blogger whiplash.

Today as I walked my little wiener dogs all around the neighborhood, I did something I often do, which is to reflect on my life a stepmom and how far I've come. I enjoy looking back, not to re-hash what I did wrong, but to see what I have learned. It's impossible to grow as a stepmom (let alone a person) if you aren't retrospective about your journey along the way. And so, my friends, here are a few things that I felt worth mentioning as I've made the transition from single to stepmom in the last 7 years. Do you identify with any of them?

The Kids Grow Up

I'm not sure how in the world I didn't see this one coming. When I first met my stepkids, they were 6 and 3. Our relationship came relatively easily (Mama Ex's did not, more on that another day) and I loved everything about them. I loved that they listened to what I said, and most of the time, agreed with it! But a few week ago, I realized, these kids are 11 and 14 now. They're becoming actual people. The list of things to help them with is getting longer, more complex and more stressful. They're getting more expensive. They talk back. Somehow, when I got married, I naively didn't worry about "as the kids get older." It was just this ambiguous thing off in the distance that would show up someday and I'd deal with it then. I wish I had taken a little extra time to prep myself for the inevitable change in the kids. Physically, mentally, emotionally...it can be overwhelming when you aren't ready for it.

Mama Ex May NOT Grow Up

Call me optimistic, but I always just assumed that one day, the pettiness that we deal with when it comes to Mama Ex would just melt away. Eventually, she would really see that I am not here to cause her harm or steal her children. I'm just here to love her children the best that I know how. I saw us all getting together and having dinner together with the kids to show them a united front, laughing at how silly we have been over the years.

It hasn't happened. And I have to realize that it may never happen. I might have matured and grown less petty and selfish, but maybe Mama Ex won't. I might reflect on things I could have done differently, but maybe Mama Ex won't. As my fave basketball coach used to say, "You just play your game. Let them play theirs."

Thou Will Be Judged - and So Will Hubs

I really thought that by 2014, humans would have evolved enough to know that not every family is two parents, 2.5 kids and a Labradoodle. But there are those out there that still crinkle up their nose like they smell a rotten potato when I say, "these are my two stepdaughters." Like we're a bunch of lepers walking around infecting everyone else.

I remember when I first introduced my two stepdaughters to one of my aunts. She looked at M, then at T, then to Hubs, and back at T with a strange look on her face. Later, I overheard her talking to my mother and she actually said these words:

"Well, I can see the resemblance between M and Hubs. But, did you ever wonder if T is actually his? They look nothing alike. I know Hubs and Mama Ex were never married. Maybe he's paying child support for a kid that isn't even his?? Ruby should really think about that."

I was dumbfounded. This was coming from a woman with four children from three different men and a minimum of three divorces under belt. Where did she get off making judgments about my family? I've learned over the years that people automatically assume they have a right to say these sorts of things because those kids aren't your kids. It's like open season because the children don't share my DNA. And that is messed up.

The point is, as a stepmom, you and your husband will be judged by awful, ignorant people. The trick is to handle them with dignity and grace. Hold your head high. You are a wonderful stepmom and anyone who questions you can take a long walk off a short pier. And then drown. Which leads me to...

Don't Take it Lying Down

When my aunt uttered those words about my stepdaughter, I had only been a stepmom for about five minutes. I never corrected my aunt or stood up for myself and I've regretted it every day since. I have learned there is a time and place for silence, and a time and place to find your voice and use it.

No one is going to be your advocate except you. 

So...

• If a teacher mistakenly calls you Mom during a teacher conference, it's okay to say, "Actually, I'm the kids' stepmom. You met their mother Jane last week. I know it can be a little confusing!"

• If someone tells you - in person or via social media - that you don't have a right to give input regarding your stepchildren, (kindly) set them straight. Let them know that you share time with the kids and have a very vested interest in their well being and always share your input with your husband. Ultimately, the biological parents have the final word, but your input is expected and most importantly, valued.

• If a doctor asks you to sign a legal document, it's perfectly okay to say, "I would, but I'm Cara's stepmom, so I need to have her father or mother sign this. We'll get it right back to you." Don't do what I did three years ago and make up some lame excuse like, "I need to read the fine print on this first and then sign it later tonight, thanks!!" That's acting ashamed of being a step parent. You have nothing to be ashamed of. People are going to get it wrong sometimes and correcting them shows that you know yourself and your boundaries as a stepmom well enough to be honest. 
  

•  If you're at a school event/doctor appointment/music lesson/recital/whatever and Hubs can't attend, don't be a door mat. Let's say the music teacher gives Mama Ex a schedule of upcoming recitals, politely say, "May I have one of those as well? Bobby's father and I will want a copy for our records." No, you aren't being a bitch and no, you aren't violating your boundaries. You and Hubs are a team and you share your life with his children. Many times, if it's just you and Mama Ex at the event, people will make the assumption that you're Mama Ex's sister or a good friend. That's not their fault; they don't know any better. But that doesn't mean you can't correct them.

As a stepmom, you're learning new things every day, and it's not very likely that you'll get it all right the first time. If you make a mistake, brush it off and right the ship the next time. 

Hey, Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither is a family. Give it time.

 

the naked truth

I love myself some Netflix. Like, an unhealthy amount of Netflix.

It all started with Breaking Bad, then morphed slowly into Sherlock Holmes (holy God, Benedict Cumberbatch is a delicious dish) and then, magically, I found myself getting into documentaries.

It's like a drug. I can't stop. They're just so damn interesting, and usually pretty harmless. I mean, it's cool to learn how coo coo some people are, in the case of "Jesus Camp." And a tornado wouldn't have stopped me from finishing "Man on a Wire." But at the end of the day, these documentaries are just interesting fodder to get me through a boring Wednesday night.

Until I watched "Talhotblond."

You guys.

Watch it. And then go find your teenage SD (or biological one) and super glue her shorty-short wearing booty to the couch and watch it with her. I'm not kidding. Pry her eyes open with toothpicks if you have to. If you can get Hubs to watch with you, even better, though it will probably disturb him even more than you. And if you have a teenage stepson? Let him in on the action, too.

"Talhotblond" is the true story of how the internet, false identites and chat rooms can go terribly, terribly, wrong. I'll be honest, there are some cheesy reenactments that could have been handled better and it drags a bit in the middle. But stick with it. It's an important film, and one that will be sealed into their brain forever.

(In the same way that "Requiem For a Dream" kept me from ever, ever, ever trying drugs. Or diet pills.)

Look, we live in a very new and different world. (I've talked about this before.) It's still even new to us as adults, so imagine what it's like for the younger generation. As teens, they think they have the internet/texting/social media all figured out. I mean, how hard can it be? 

My 13 year old SD, M, always laughs when I ask her, "Do you know every single person from your Instagram?" 

"Of course I know them all," M replies, rolling her eyes and texting furiously. "I'm not stupid enough to accept a request from someone I don't know."

"You know them, as in, you've personally met every single person on your Instagram account? Every single one? All 579 of them?" I ask back, doubt in my eyes. 

(Incidentally, I knew maybe 65 people when I was her age. And I'm including dead relatives and teachers. And my Sunday School teacher.)

"YES, RUBY!" she responds, then shrugs her shoulders. "I mean, some of them are just from other schools, but I still know who they are through friends. And obviously I don't actually KNOW Katy Perry, but it's her Instagram account."

Boom. 

She doesn't know them. She probably hasn't even laid eyes on over half of them. And quite frankly, who knows if Katy Perry is really Katy Perry? Maybe Katy Perry's Instagram is run by some beer guzzling, 49 year old man with an erectile dysfunction and a complete set of Star Wars action figures. My stepkid would never know.

(No offense to Katy Perry, I'm sure she runs her own account. It's just an example.)

My point is, kids do not think the way we do. And they shouldn't; that's our job. Kids aren't wired to see all the angles because they've never been exposed to them. Here's how I explained it to my SD that I think finally made sense to her:

Ask a three year to count as high as she can. She'll tell you, "egg."

Ask a 7 year old, and they'll puff out their chest and be all, "Ready? The answer is fifty nine billion, six hundred zillion, four thousand and one billion and six. OOH! And one!"

Ask a 15 year old to name the biggest number possible and they'll say, "Duh, there isn't one. Just infinity." And then they'll flip you off and ignore you until they get hungry.

My point is this. As a teen on the internet, you're still in the "egg" phase. You can't comprehend what exists out there. Teenagers don't fathom that sick, twisted people exist and create fake identities and prey on ignorant children.

That's why movies like "Talhotblond" are so important. Hubs and I can preach to M all day long about the dangers of letting strangers, specifically online strangers, into her world. But we're her parents. What the hell do we know? At least through a documentary, M knows we had nothing to do with the information being presented. She knows that this actually happened. And it's served to her on an easy-to-understand and relatively interesting platter. 

With even some curse words thrown in.

DISCLAIMER: There is sexual content in the film. Not visual at all, but it is written. But really, do you think your teenager hasn't heard worse on the school bus?

Give "Talhotblond" a try and let me know what you think. Will you watch it with your SD or SS? I know I am. 

go with the flo

Big moments in our stepchildrens' lives happen when we least expect them. Sometimes they occur at school. Or at a friend's house. Or when they're with Mama Ex. It's a part of life. For me, those moments almost always happen when the kids aren't with us at our home. After all, we only have them 35% of the time. It would only make sense that the majority of "the biggies" are more likely to occur when they're with their mother. It's tough, but Hubs and I understand that that's the way the broken family ball bounces (not that we're really a broken family, I just enjoyed that iteration). We roll with it and move on.

Occasionally though, the pendulum swings our way. Hubs was the one who taught T to ride a bike without training wheels. I taught M how to roller skate. Sure, these aren't the hugest of happenings, but we take what we can get. Two weeks ago, though, we landed a monster unexpected life moment at our home.

Aunt Flo came to visit M for the first time. 

And Hubs wasn't home.

But I was.

I'm making it sound much more dramatic than it was. In all honesty, it was pretty chill. M came to me and told me she thought she had begun her period. After a few clarifying questions, we decided she had indeed begun that wonderful life gift of menstration.

The kid has already had about 485 classes on her period since 2nd grade began, so she wasn't overly upset or scared. She was more annoyed than anything else - and boy can I empathize with that. I decided not to make a huge deal out of it by pulling out my hair, throwing a bible at her womb and screaming "AND THE FIRST SIN WAS INTERCOURSE."

Instead,I told her I'd be back and ran to Target. I purchased a few essentials like pads, some black underwear, Ibuprofen...and of course a Carmel Machiatto from Starbucks. 

(Can we just talk for a minute about how adorable the packaging for pads is for teens nowdays? When I met Aunt Flo, all I had available to me were gigantic cotton pillows in huge, bright white plastic crinkle wrappings that basically shouted from the rooftops "LOOK! I'M BLEEEEDING!!" Remember trying to hide those suckers in your pocket on the way to the bathroom? Not so much.) 

When I returned home, I had a quick convo with M, explaining how to use the pads, and that she should mark in her calendar about 28-30 days from now that Flo would be back. And then 28 days after that. And after that. And after that. Forever and for all eternity until she's old and withered. I explained cramping, how to properly dispose of a pad (wrap it up...please) and how to keep "her area" clean and smelling like a daisy instead of a rotten salmon factory. All was well and good.

And then I decided it was time to let Mama Ex know. Aren't I nice? I mean, I could've been a real dick about it and just let M tell her. But come on, this is her daughter and she just had a huge life moment - I'd want to know if she were my kid.

So I sent a laid back text to Mama Ex, informing her that M had begun the monthly crazy train cycle. I didn't go into too much detail, just let her know I bought some essentials for M to bring home, and that she didn't freak out too badly.

And this is what came back:

I've already talked with her about it so I'm sure she wasn't freaked out. We knew it was going to be coming this week. I will be there at 6 to get the girls.

I need to go ahead and employ Mama Ex right now as a fortune teller. She KNEW WHEN HER DAUGHTER'S FIRST PERIOD WAS COMING. Who wouldn't pay $5,000 to know that? I think I have found my meal ticket to retirement.

I'm not going to lie. Her text hurt a little bit. It basically said, "you are a non-issue at this point. You are a stand in until I get there." Which okay, yeah, I sort of am. I'm not M's mom. But she needn't remind me of that. (Like I could ever forget, anyway.) I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe the same level of respect I give her when she tells us about a life moment with the kids we missed? Maybe a, "Darn, wish I'd have been there, but thanks for getting her the stuff she needs. I'm glad she was with someone she knows when it happened." Is that asking a lot?

By the same token, I understand what she was doing. Mama Ex's daughter was with another woman (whom Mama Ex is occasionally threatened by) when one of the biggest moments in a her life happened. Of course Mama Ex is going to try and make it sound like old news. I know it's bogus and M knows its bogus. But it's a maneuver to make Mama Ex still feel like she's in control.

I didn't goat the issue further or repeat what Mama Ex said back to M. She doesn't need to know. She's got enough on her plate with her new monthly reminder that she has a uterus. In the end, I'm glad it happened here. I'm glad I could be here for my stepdaughter and help her through a weird and funky experience. And that's all that should matter.

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?