So 9 turns 16 tomorrow. We've been all party, party, party around here for a few days. Actually, we've really been all clean, clean, clean. He had a glow in the dark party yesterday, and I learned the hard way that there are two layers of cleaning that one does when throwing any kind of party that involves a black light. There's the normal cleaning one does when you're preparing your home for company, and then the second layer that's required when you see all the invisible germs that a traitorious black light exposes. Very eye opening. And horrific. And embarrassing. And shameful. And I could go on with the adjectives here, but I think you get the idea.
However, it was all worth it in the end because he and his friends had a good time, or so I was told. I took the littles and headed out of town for the night because mixing a 3, 5, and 8 year old in with a bunch of teenagers would be akin to dumping a bunch of yappy chihuahuas in with a roomful of monkeys, and why would we want to subject anyone to that scene?
(Who am I kidding? It was myself who I didn't want to subject to that scene. Me. Anyone else would've been free to take it or leave it.)
Anyway, on to the reason for why I sat to write this post.
Ahem.
A few years ago I wrote Stepmom. I have mixed feelings about that post. I think I wrote my feelings in an honest, true way- and I'm proud of that. But then some of my friends responded to it by saying that 9 was "lucky to have me", and while that was nice of them, I began to feel like a fraud. No where in that post was I trying to give anybody the idea that I know what I'm doing as a step parent.
Listen. This step parenting gig is hard. It's harder than parenting your own kids, and not just because you have to work for that bond. It's also because that bond is negotiated between you and your stepkid. I mean, they have a say in it (whereas your own kids just learn that their your DNA and deal with it). The whole process can be messy, and I will be the first to say that I have not been a shining star during al this.
My mom gave me some advice as a therapist when I first married Mr. C. She told me to remember that Mr. C, Michelle, and 9 were a family at one time, and that for 9, this would always be the case. I didn't have a problem accepting that. I understood that Mr. C had a responsibility to them, even after he and I started our own family. What I struggled with was how decisions for our family would overlap and affect the other family, and I handled it even worse when the situation was vice versa. Actually, none of us handled that well. (Would you?) There were so many occasions when we would muck stuff up, blame each other, fight with each other, complain to anyone who would listen, and get others involved when they had no business being involved. Often times, 9 would unwittingly end up in the middle of it. I can not tell you how many times I wanted to give up. Just leave. Pack it up, take the kids, and kindly ask to be taken out of the equation. Sometimes it was because of something Michelle did. Sometimes it was because of something Mr. C did. Sometimes it was because of something the both of them did. But mostly it was because of things that I did. (I find it so ironic that I, being someone who will go to her grave caring too much about what other people think about her, married into this situation where there were so many occasions for her to mess up in front of so many other witnesses- not just 9 and Mr. C, but their families as well.)
Maybe you can see why running away and leaving was an attractive thought at times.
But I didn't run away. I stuck it out. And I'll always stick it out. I haven't learned much as a step parent, but one thing I do know is that commitment is a good quality to have if one chooses this role.
So today, when I think about 9's birthday, I think about that fact that I've been here for 10 years, sticking it out with him. And of course, I think about his mom. She should be here. Sixteen years ago, she, Mr. C, and 9 became a family. They lived in a little apartment across the street from the beach, just the 3 of them. Today 9 lives in the desert, in our very loud crazy house, with 3 siblings and a stepmother. Everything that has happened between then and now has brought him to this very different place, and he's had more adjustment and changes to get used to than an average kid. I think he's rolled with it well. He's a cool kid, with a great sense of humor and great friends, and for every ounce of commitment that I put into our relationship, he's worth ten.
(Actually, he's worth more than that. Not many kids will wear a birthday hat made for them by their little sister in front of all his friends. But he did.)
Happy Birthday, 9!
However, it was all worth it in the end because he and his friends had a good time, or so I was told. I took the littles and headed out of town for the night because mixing a 3, 5, and 8 year old in with a bunch of teenagers would be akin to dumping a bunch of yappy chihuahuas in with a roomful of monkeys, and why would we want to subject anyone to that scene?
(Who am I kidding? It was myself who I didn't want to subject to that scene. Me. Anyone else would've been free to take it or leave it.)
Anyway, on to the reason for why I sat to write this post.
Ahem.
A few years ago I wrote Stepmom. I have mixed feelings about that post. I think I wrote my feelings in an honest, true way- and I'm proud of that. But then some of my friends responded to it by saying that 9 was "lucky to have me", and while that was nice of them, I began to feel like a fraud. No where in that post was I trying to give anybody the idea that I know what I'm doing as a step parent.
Listen. This step parenting gig is hard. It's harder than parenting your own kids, and not just because you have to work for that bond. It's also because that bond is negotiated between you and your stepkid. I mean, they have a say in it (whereas your own kids just learn that their your DNA and deal with it). The whole process can be messy, and I will be the first to say that I have not been a shining star during al this.
My mom gave me some advice as a therapist when I first married Mr. C. She told me to remember that Mr. C, Michelle, and 9 were a family at one time, and that for 9, this would always be the case. I didn't have a problem accepting that. I understood that Mr. C had a responsibility to them, even after he and I started our own family. What I struggled with was how decisions for our family would overlap and affect the other family, and I handled it even worse when the situation was vice versa. Actually, none of us handled that well. (Would you?) There were so many occasions when we would muck stuff up, blame each other, fight with each other, complain to anyone who would listen, and get others involved when they had no business being involved. Often times, 9 would unwittingly end up in the middle of it. I can not tell you how many times I wanted to give up. Just leave. Pack it up, take the kids, and kindly ask to be taken out of the equation. Sometimes it was because of something Michelle did. Sometimes it was because of something Mr. C did. Sometimes it was because of something the both of them did. But mostly it was because of things that I did. (I find it so ironic that I, being someone who will go to her grave caring too much about what other people think about her, married into this situation where there were so many occasions for her to mess up in front of so many other witnesses- not just 9 and Mr. C, but their families as well.)
Maybe you can see why running away and leaving was an attractive thought at times.
But I didn't run away. I stuck it out. And I'll always stick it out. I haven't learned much as a step parent, but one thing I do know is that commitment is a good quality to have if one chooses this role.
So today, when I think about 9's birthday, I think about that fact that I've been here for 10 years, sticking it out with him. And of course, I think about his mom. She should be here. Sixteen years ago, she, Mr. C, and 9 became a family. They lived in a little apartment across the street from the beach, just the 3 of them. Today 9 lives in the desert, in our very loud crazy house, with 3 siblings and a stepmother. Everything that has happened between then and now has brought him to this very different place, and he's had more adjustment and changes to get used to than an average kid. I think he's rolled with it well. He's a cool kid, with a great sense of humor and great friends, and for every ounce of commitment that I put into our relationship, he's worth ten.
(Actually, he's worth more than that. Not many kids will wear a birthday hat made for them by their little sister in front of all his friends. But he did.)
Happy Birthday, 9!
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