To the Stepmother of My Children

To the Stepmother of My Children,

I am writing to you as the mother figure in my children’s lives in their dad’s home.  Children need mothers to be nurturing, comforting, and gentle teachers.  In fact, the root word for “discipline” is “teach”.  The two boys feel very stressed when visiting their dad for the weekend.  They feel they are barely tolerated and aren’t allowed to make small, normal mistakes without immediate punishment or constant  threats of punishment.  They feel they cannot respectfully speak up for themselves without being told they are “sassing”, when they are people who simply are trying to be understood.  I don’t know if you and their father truly understand how deeply stressed they are.  They love their father, but have an extremely difficult time when it is their weekend to be there.  Of course there will be some adjustment going from one household to another, and that is to be expected.  And there will always be things about each household that they don’t like, and that’s normal too.  But it has come to be that they are asking and pleading not to have to go to Indy when it’s their weekend to go.  And when they come home, they each break down sobbing about their time there.

I understand I am only hearing one side of how things are. This is their perception of how things are, and what they perceive is what their reality is.  What the boys are asking for is compassion, patience, and respect. 

Are they loud?

YES!

Are they bouncy?

Yep.

Can they try our patience simply because they are children?

Oh yes.

Are they perfect?

Nope.

None of us are.  As children, their brains are still developing, and they are still learning about the world around them; how things work, how to behave in various situations, how to read other people, how to handle their emotions.  As adults, when we make a mistake, or lose our patience, what helps us in that moment? Support?  Empathy? Understanding? Kind guidance? These two boys need these also.

The boys did not have a say in their father moving 100 miles away from them. They really didn’t have a say in whom he chose as a partner and to share their household. But when they told me that you and their father were marrying, they were very happy.  They liked you so much and always said how nice you were to them. Those two sweet boys asked me to teach them how to bake and frost a cake so they could make one as a gift for you.  They’ve never done that for anyone else.    

Being a parent is hard. Being a step parent is hard, too.  You are helping to shape their childhood and creating memories for them and with them. What kind of memories do you want to make?

When they are adults and look back on their childhood, how will they remember their time at home? How will they remember us? How will they speak of us?

You have such an influence on how these sweet boys grow up. As the mothers of our households, we truly set the mood for our family. The world can be a tough place, but we can make their home a safe and comfortable haven.  A place to be themselves, make mistakes, and have a soft place to land.  And learn how to do better the next time.  

I don’t know if this will affect how the interactions continue between you, but I needed to speak up on their behalf.  My sons are the most precious gifts God could have ever given to me. I love the way the older one thinks.  His imagination and cleverness is out of this world. He’s ridiculously smart, and has a thirst for knowledge and how things work.  And the younger one is so sweet and tender-hearted, things affect him deeply.  He’s very perceptive to people’s feelings and extremely compassionate.  And SO funny!  He makes me laugh every day, even when I’m starting to lose my patience with him.  

 I hope you are able to enjoy each of them individually for their own unique personality.

-AM

Busy Spring!

Spring is here! It's been a busy few weeks months.  Lots of school papers. Some mild illness. Homework. Bickering. Talking back. Food preparation. Cleaning. Work. Errands. Schedule juggling... is this really 40? There are days I think homeschooling the children would be more effective, then there are others where I believe it would be pointless. The bickering is driving me crazy. Gabriel was in a tree at the playground the other day, and Julian grabbed his shoe- right off of his foot. There was name calling and who knows what else. When Julian was told to give it back (after much shrieking from his brother), he hurled it only vaguely in Gabriel's general direction. This, of course, resulted in more shrieking from Gabriel. I suppose if this had been a TV episode, it might have been funny.  This kind of thing has been far too common lately, so it really wasn't funny, just exhausting.

Gabriel found a raccoon skull while at his father's, and was thoughtful enough to leave it on my pillow.  Have I mentioned how much I love having boys? And I don't mean that sarcastically. A raccoon skull on my pillow is parenting gold.  Gabriel got the idea from his brother, who a few months ago first put a raccoon skull on my pillow.  He snuck it there just before bed, then asked me in the morning why he didn't hear me scream when I saw it.  I told him it startled me, but I think he was expecting a TV reaction, not a real-life one.

Julian is eating and eating and eating.  Growth spurt! Fortunately, most of what he snacks on is fresh fruit and second helpings of (mostly) nutritious meals. I think I will measure all three kiddos tomorrow and see how much they've all grown (update- Julian has grown over 2" since January!).

Gabriel participated in a track meet the other night. He did well and had so much fun! It's an annual event, so I'm sure we will be going next year as well.

Julian is part of a Lego robotics team for his school.  They competed at the state level and came in second for their category. I know he will enjoy the robotics program next year in middle school (sniff!).

Maddie is enjoying her art class.  They work with a variety of media and techniques.  Her school posts her class work on a website so family can see what she's creating.  That would have been so neat when I was in school.

The school year is winding down. I can't believe how fast the time has zipped by.  The boys are signed up for a week of Camp Hi Ho, which is really exciting. Maddie has nine days of summer break before heading off to her month-long sleep-away camp. She had a blast last year, even though we missed her bunches. I'm really looking foreword to a fun, relaxing summer. And more help from the kids. Oh yes.

I took a week off from work to get some projects done around the house.  I have certainly accomplished a lot.  I treated myself to a coffee date to catch up with a friend yesterday. It was lovely.  Another friend reminded me that I should really take time for me today, and do something nice for myself.  I just took a walk with the dog- yes! We got a dog!  More on her later.  So I think I will get some lunch and go do something fun!

Aquarium or Bust! Bust!

Saturday was the first official day of spring break. It was a rainy morning. Batman was feeling spontaneous and thought we should hit the road and take the kids to the aquarium.  It's an hour and a half away, perfect for a day trip. We ate breakfast and kept the aquarium a secret. We told the kids to get dressed and get ready to run some errands.  Dodging raindrops, we piled into Batman's roomy SUV.

Eventually, the kids began to wonder where exactly we were going.  We put them off a few times, but they were persistent.  When they absolutely had to know, we played Twenty Questions and they guessed on the very last question.

A quick stop for a late lunch near the aquarium made us realize it was quite a bit chillier than at home. And it was still raining.  We navigated the parking lot and finally made it to the actual building. We figured it wouldn't be too crowded; after all, it was late afternoon and wouldn't most people be headed the opposite direction toward Florida?

We were (in the words of Tabatha Coffey) gobsmacked at the ridiculously long line. Batman stood in line while the kids and I took cover under an awning. It was pretty chilly and still raining.  We all had worn spring jackets but they were not enough. The much lower temperatures really caught us off-guard.  And there was my hubby, standing in line wearing short sleeves, getting pelted by nearly-frozen raindrops. After a few minutes, I took the kids and guiltily ducked into a little candy store nearby for warmth. I watched my hubby move very very slowly through the line.

And then he called me.  They were only letting a few people at a time into the aquarium because they were already at capacity. He was still a good half-hour from even getting tickets, and even then our tickets would have an entrance time on them- a half-hour or hour from when we actually had the tickets in hand. Yikes.  Even if all that worked out, we were still cutting it close on time- the aquarium was due to close in an hour and a half.  We wouldn't have as much time as we would like.  What to do? Disappoint the kiddos? Wait it out in the rain, gambling with our time?

I gave the kids the scoop. And you know what? They really impressed me. They all voted that we should come back when the weather was nicer or at the very least, we would have more time to wander through and enjoy ourselves.  As disappointed as I was about missing out on all the aquarium had to offer, I was really proud of my kids for making a mature decision. And so willingly!

We freed my hubby from the line. He joined us in the candy shop.  We rewarded the kids by letting them choose a fun treat and headed home. A simple dinner of warm soup and gooey grilled cheese sandwiches warmed us up.  A cozy evening on the couch with a movie has ended our day nicely.  A relaxing family day together with easy-going children and a few laughs was a wonderful way to begin our spring break. The entire week is ahead of us, and the best part- we still have an exciting trip to the aquarium to look forward to!

Mother of the Year

Today I am being completely obnoxious, and am awarding myself
Mother of the Year.
 I am giving myself this award for Showing Kindness Where It Is Not Deserved, for Sucking It Up and Taking The High Road, for Infinite Patience in Circumstances I Thought I Would Never Find Myself In (I know, I know. It's "in which I would never find myself". Whatever.).

Is this my first time being awarded Mother of the Year?  Oh no.  I've been nominated and awarded this to myself many times over the years.

Those long nights, pacing the floor, swaying, patting, shushing, and nursing on very little broken sleep. Enduring countless episodes of baby spit up for five months straight.  Finding a job to support my beautiful babies after my husband financially devastated us, then left me.  That one time I had my sick two-year-old (and his ten-month-old brother) at the doctor's office and she very sweetly told me I would be going home, packing an overnight bag for my son and for myself, and to take him to the children's hospital.  He had pneumonia, and I "slept" next to him through the night while the IV worked it's magic.  Those long days of teething and tantrums.  The times during the public meltdowns of one or both toddlers, when I would smile at onlookers and say, "Don't forget your birth control!" and scoop my little ones up to go home for a nap...

Today is different though.  My boys are a bit older, so the things that require more of me have changed. This time, my oldest declares he wants me to teach him how to bake a cake. I am thrilled! We used to bake together often when they were toddlers and loved it!  The past few years find me pleading for them to work with me on cupcakes or cookies.  They sort of start to help me out, but get distracted and wander off, leaving me to do the work.  They just want me to let them know when the treats are ready. That's just not as much fun for me.

But Julian wants to learn to bake on his own, and I excitedly tell him he is certainly old enough. Then he explains he wants to make a cake for his dad and his bride-to-be.  As a gift.  His brother wants to make his own, also. Ah.

Ok. So we are making cake.  Yes, I will teach them, but their cake must be all their own.  And while at Target, I show them all the pretty wedding cards.  I ask if they want to pick one out to congratulate their dad and his fiancé. They do! They each choose just the right one.  Then they choose a gift card for them.  Look at me, being the bigger person! I mentally pat myself on the back.

This may be normal for some divorced families, but certainly not over here. This is all very groundbreaking. I mean, it was only a decade ago that I was huge and round and nearing the delivery of my firstborn.  Had someone whispered in my ear that before my child's tenth birthday, I would be married to someone else and helping my boys choose a wedding gift for their dad, no way would I have believed it.  Their father barely speaks to me. Ever.There are no kindnesses extended, nothing like that. I am always biting my tongue, taking the high road, doing what's best for my children.

So we now have made all the cakes.  We choose and buy frosting. Now we need boxes to transport them in. Then Julian wants a small bride and groom to top his cake. It's hard to find anything at a reasonable price. We try to get creative. We are in a time crunch. I've spent much of my time and energy on helping each boy bake their very own cake.  And frost. And the dishes. And he really, really wants a bride a groom for his cake. I am so over the whole cake thing.  But this is important to my child.  And in a year from now, what's going to matter most? So my child gets the bride and groom that he wants (I feel a teensy bit better when I find a coupon for it).  He is happy.  That's really all that matters.

The boys both did beautiful jobs with their cakes. They are so proud to discover how capable they are. It shows in their faces.

 Knowing I helped each child create and give the gift they wanted to their father makes me a better mother.  I left all pettiness aside, because this isn't about me or my ex. It's all about the boys.

So for all the single parents, divorced parents, step parents, working parents, at-home parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and guardians.  For all of those moments when you Sucked It Up and Took The High Road, Held Your Tongue when you wanted to say something snarky, Did The Right Thing even though it wasn't fair, Kept It To Yourself for the sake of your children, and Acted Out Of Love for the sake of your beautiful babies, I also award you Mother of the Year.
Now pat yourself on the back. Hug your babies, no matter their age. No reward could possibly be greater.

Scared the daylights out of me!

It's February.  But it's also Kentucky, so it rained overnight.  In the wee hours of the morning, an enormous BOOM! woke me from my sleep.

Heart pounding, I sat up in bed.  A few low rumblings followed as I waited to hear small footsteps approach my bedroom. The steps never came, no knocking on my door. I fell back to sleep to the dripping of the rain, but no more thunder.

A few hours later, the cloudy day greeted my family.  I asked Gabriel if he even heard the giant, loud BOOM! of thunder.  Surprisingly, he did. He said he had thought about coming to my room, but decided he would just cover his head with his pillow if he heard another.  

"It was SO loud", I said. "It scared the daylights out of me."

Gabriel replied, "You mean the night lights, Mom. It scared the night lights out of you. Cause it happened during the night."

Ah, yes.  That's what I meant.

New Post, Chicken Host!

Remember that joke from when you were a kid that goes like this-
"Guess what?"
"What?"
"That's what, chicken butt!"

Well Gabriel has learned this joke much sooner than I learned it.  Like all jokes, it was cute the first time.
This has now morphed into an entire lifestyle for Gabriel.
And us.
Every. Single. Answer. from Gabriel now goes like this:



"No fair, chicken hair!"

"What, chicken butt?"

"I don't know, chicken toe."

"But why, chicken thigh?"

"That's fine, chicken spine."

"Guess who, chicken poo?"
"Why not, chicken spot?"

"Go fish, chicken wish."

"Ugh, chicken thug."

"Yes, chicken mess."

"No thanks, chicken spanks."

"No fair, chicken hair!"

"No it's not, chicken snot."

"Goodnight, chicken fight."

That's the end, chicken friend.

Live long and...what?

Oh my.
It seems I've been complete negligent in my blogging.
The adventures of our summer, going back to school, and winter break have all been relegated to several fleeting Facebook updates.

I wanted more than that.

School is going well for the kiddos.  Gabriel managed to break his arm at the school skating night.  Frankly, I'm surprised it took him seven years before he wound up in a cast. He handled it all beautifully, and I'm impressed by how quickly he adapted to life as a southpaw for awhile.

All three children have recently lost grandmothers.  Maddie's mom recently married and the boys' dad has moved. Again.  After seven years, he finally has a place of his own.  Batman and I continue to strive to be the constant in their lives.  It's important to us that even with the frequent changes that happen in their other households that we keep our routines, maintain stability, and try to be the balance they need.  He and I both struggle with how things are handled with our exes (regarding the children, that is.  After all, they are the only reason we still have to interact with them).  We address things when needed, and just do our best for our children in our home.  I am learning that much of co-parenting is knowing when to speak up and know when to let it go.  It's hard, because we love our children more than anything in the universe, and we only want the best for them.

We have a newish bedtime routine.  For the first time in my boys' sweet little lives, I am required to check for monsters under the bed.  There never are any monsters.  What they don't know is they should be afraid of what's really under the bed.
Cat hair. Dust bunnies.  Random Lego pieces.  Stray blankets.  Pennies. Paper scraps. Stuffed animals who have either lost their way or are diving for cover.
And they have to see me check under the bed.  There's no convincing them I peeked real fast while they weren't looking.
Then there's the Spock thing.  I have to make the Vulcan hand sign thingy, and pronounce, "May The Force be with you."
Wait...what?
Yes, my boys have combined their Star Trek and Star Wars geekiness.
I have added "Live long and prosper." while I do the Spock thing.
It just feels right.
Then I wish The Force with them. Especially for good dreams.
Then I blow them each kisses.  Gabriel requires an even number of kisses.  Just because.
I remind them a thousand times to whisper!
I wish them good dreams again. I tell them I love them.
Then I tell Gabriel "I love you bunches and bunches".
Just so he can reply, "I love you one bunches more."
Sigh.... I just love my boys.

Little Boys

Little Boys
And their smelly shoes
Rocks in their pockets
Sticky glue

Fingerprints on my glasses
Impish looks
Constant wrestling
Lost library books

Ninja masks
And Kung Fu kicks
Scattered colors of
Lego bricks

Boy parts, pee pee jokes
And new lingo-
Bakugan, Paper Jams
And Ninjago

Superheroes
Climbing Trees
All their jeans
Have holey knees

Pirate ships
And zooming cars
Imaginary
Flights to Mars

Splashing in puddles
Hills of ants
And far too many
Captain Underpants

Boogey noses
Sticky-up hair
Need constant reminders
To stop tipping their chair

Walking and talking
In their sleep
Spinning in circles
Till they collapse in a heap

Cuddly hugs
Yet they sniff my pits
Gales of giggles
Had in fits

So many kisses
And I Love Yous
Come with
Little boys
And their smelly shoes
                  -AM

Sweetness

It's been a truly wonderful summer with my kiddos.  Even so, the other day after breakfast and before my shower, I brewed myself a cup of coffee.  The kids were amusing themselves, and I just wanted a moment (or two!) to enjoy my coffee outside, enjoying the sounds of the morning. In peace, by myself.

Of course, this is not exactly what happened.  I tiptoed through the door and onto the front porch, and as I turned to close the door, Gabriel appeared.

"Whatcha doing, Mom?"

"Oh, I just wanted three minutes to sit here and drink my coffee..."

"With your son," he finished for me in a cheerful sing-song voice.

I sighed and smiled at the same time.  Sighing because the few moments of peace would not be, smiling because summer was coming to an end, and there were only a few precious days left before the start of school.  I could enjoy my coffee alone nearly every single day. For now, I would be enjoying it ...

"With my son", I confirmed.

We chit-chatted for a bit, and at some point we got around to talking about Gabriel's future wife.

"I'm going to find someone pretty who knows God," he said.

I told him that was a very smart thing to do, and to make sure she is kind as well.

"And funny, and smart."

He looked up at me with shining eyes.

"Just like you, Mommy."

Tears sprung to my eyes. I knew I would treasure this moment forever. Then he added two more words that would ensure I would indeed remember this.

"...except young."