Step-family Talk

Sometimes stepchildren have a real knack for emotionally cutting you to the quick, finding that last nerve, and in general making you feel worthless. At these times you ask yourself why you got into this situation. You ask yourself why you bother trying to love these children. Cartooned images of Homer Simpson choking Bart dance in your head and you say to yourself, “Homer knows.”

It is at these times that we have to be most prepared to forgive and forget. I find it easiest to forgive if I can empathize with the person I am trying to forgive. It’s not always easy when you’ve had a long day and when you look down at the latest source of your frustration all you see is a monster. I suggest you take a step back (perhaps that is why we are called “Step” parents) and pause just a little longer to think about what is happening inside the head of the monster standing before you.

I have one advantage that helps me in the empathy arena. I too was stepchild/monster. I guess, I am still technically a stepchild. I remember some of my concerns growing up and I can understand it when these issues come into play with my own daughter. I was fairly young when my father remarried and I got along with my stepmother from the beginning so I don’t have a whole lot to draw on, but there is one concern I remember having as a child. I suppose you would call it a matter of loyalty.

I can’t recall ever hating my stepmother. She is a very nice lady and I think anybody would have a hard time not liking her. The hardest part of my relationship with her was my fear that I liked her too much. That somehow accepting her was a betrayal to my biological mother. I felt that if I gave my stepmother a hug or said “I love you” or called her “mom” I was somehow saying that I no longer loved my mother. As an adult, I’ve learned that loving one person does not hinder your ability to love another or somehow diminish that love for another, but as a child I thought it was a case of either/or. So, I held off affection towards my stepmother. If it had come down to it, had my stepmother pushed for my affection I would have acted out to prevent it from happening.

I know there were times when I was a kid when I felt bad about not showing more affection or appreciation towards my stepmother. She is really likeable and I did like her, but I was afraid to show it. I didn’t want my mom knowing. Whenever I imagined my mom finding out, I became quite sad with the thought of how hurt my mother would be, then I would become angry. If I ever said anything mean or hurtful to my stepmother, this would have been the time I said it. Ironic, but at the times I found myself liking her most, were the times when I was closest to doing and saying mean things.

If you find yourself on the receiving end of an angered outburst by your stepchild and you can’t quite fathom how anything you have done as of late justifies the anger, perhaps it is because you have been doing all the right things and your child is beginning to grow more found of you than they feel they should. Take it as a compliment and do your best to forgive and forget.

Cue some cutesy Dawson Creek music and imagine a distant camera shot looking down upon busy city full of streets packed with cars, bumper to bumper. The camera begins to zoom in, trees become a little more prevalent, mingled between them are the suburb rooftops. Closer, the trees thin out and one particular house comes into view. It is a two-story home nestled between maple, pear, oak, and birch trees. The camera swoops through a window and suddenly the cutesy Dawson Creek music is drowned out by a screaming match between mother and daughter. Mom is yelling at daughter to go upstairs to her room and daughter is screaming at her to give her an answer as to why she can’t go on the computer. Apparently, “Because you have been on it all evening,” “Because, other’s need to use it,” “Because, you have homework you need to finish,” and “Because, I said so” aren’t reasons as to “why” she can’t use the computer anymore.

This argument has been going on for a half-hour now. Mom is really frustrated, she just wants her daughter to go upstairs and chill for a while. Daughter, thinks mom is the worst parent in the world. Each is highly agitated and at their wits end. So, where is Dad? The camera squeezes between the argument and the screaming comes to a crescendo, then fades as the camera exists out the patio door and into the backyard. Ahh, the cutesy music has returned. In the backyard, a baby boy is playing in the grass-chasing the dog with a plastic stroll-behind scooter. A quick pan to the side and there is Dad, a glass of red wine is setting to his side, he rests on a wicker bench and writes in a notebook, seemingly oblivious to the war going on inside the house.

He’s not oblivious. He is fighting every urge in his body to go inside and remedy the situation. If this was a battle between his wife and his biological daughter things would be different. But, this is a battle between his wife and his stepdaughter. It is not his place to step in and do the parenting. So, he waits and he does his best to take in the serenity of the outdoors and enjoys watching his son play.

The figures in the camera pans out a little ways so that Dad, the dog and the baby boy can all be seen, and then the figures zoom into high speed. Dad is relatively still, blurred images of his hand moving across the page and reaching for his wine show that he is somewhat active. The baby boy is seen first on one side of the yard and then the other, he falls, crawls, get’s back up, circle’s the dog, falls again, grabs the dog’s tail, the dog circles until the baby boy let’s go and this hyper-speed image continues until the sliding door opens. Time slows to a normal speed and Mom comes over to the bench and sits down next to Dad. Dad puts his arm around her and squeezes her in a one-armed hug. The battle is over; the daughter has finally gone up to her room.

Now, is the time for the special form of parenting that Dad must become responsible. Dad, talks with Mom and lets her know what he noticed. He reminds her that although it isn’t easy to remain calm when the daughter screams and constantly questions everything that it is important to remain in calm and in control. When the daughter gets her riled up, she is getting what she wants-attention. He suggests new ways to handle the situation, but mainly asks as a sounding board to let Mom vent her frustration. When Mom has calmed, she goes inside and something special happens.

The daughter comes outside and when Dad asks her what happened she responds without screaming. She tells him how unfair she was treated, she tells him how much she hates her mom and she tells him how she wants her mom to move out. This is a first; normally it is the daughter that wants to move out. Now, the daughter wants the mom to move out. Dad, really wants to debunk the logic of everything the daughter has said and explain how she would have been much better off if she had just accepted what Mom had told her. He thinks, how can she not see that she won’t win in these arguments and she will only get in more trouble. But, he refrains from explaining. He refrains from advice. Instead he takes the time to acknowledge her frustration. There are more questions he could have asked to help, but he forgets these. He is just excited that the daughter has recognized that he wasn’t part of the argument and is willing to talk to him even though she is upset with Mom. It’s a big step forward in creating trust in the stepdad-stepdaughter relationship.

The sun is setting now. The cutesy music has looped and repeated itself far too many times, let us fade out the music and let the camera pan back out and give us a wide angle picture of the city and the last rays of sunlight. It is night time in the city, time to bring the kids indoors and put them to bed. The camera turns off and the credits roll…

At the time, I am writing this article outside on a wicket bench in my backyard. The weather is beautiful. The sun is just beginning to set, there ae some sparrows and a cardinal carrying on a symphony over head. A morning dove looks on, refusing to join in what it considers to be nothiing more that feathered palaver. Across the hedge a memorial day barbecue is still carrying on. Both adults and children are deeply engaged in a game. I can’t tell what it is, but the occasional victory cry escapes followed by friendly smack talk.

When I started this article I had intended to contrast the peace that exists here in the backyard and the war going on between mom and daughter inside the house. But,the party got me thinking about what today is really about. Today is memorial day and I feel it important to take a moment to recognize the soldiers that have fought and are fighting for our way of life.

I can’t help but think that this weekend was exactly the thing that our soldiers have defended from the moment the Declaration of Indepdendence was signed. Thanks to our soldiers, I live in a country where I am free to take my family on a spur of the moment vacation. I didn’t have to ask permission or get authorization papers to make the trip. I drove my vehicle to a lake, spent time on a boat fishing, cruised through several different cities and not once and to give thought to an attack on my family.

Because of our soldiers I had the freedom and safety to create a special weekend for my stepdaughter. Because of the soldiers I had a home to return to and a backyard to escape to when mom and daughter had a difference of opinion. Because of our soldiers I am outside right now, writing this article and getting ready to post it on a free wireless service provided by my county.

I wish to give space for all parents and stepparents to remember those soldiers that have given their lives for a freedom that we all too often take for granted. The fact that we never have to think about our freedom because it is so complete and never threatened is perhaps the greatest testament to all they have done.

I am fortunate in that I have never known the loss of a friend or family member to war, but I thank every soldier that has fought or is fighting to give me those freedoms. My heart goes out to all the parents and peoples that have lossed loved ones and to those still fighting in the war. I pray for the safe return of all our soldiers hope you soon can come home to families of your own.

If you have a loved one or a soldier you wish the world to remember please add their name and anything else you want to share about them in the comments. May we never forget.

In all matters of opinion, our adversaries are insane ~ Oscar Wilde

When first I became a stepfather I figured I would have some serious issues with which to contend. My stepdaughter lived for ten years with few rules or expectations. I was informed of this by both her and her mother. I said no problem. I had plenty of rules and even more expectations. I would knock those issues out, one at a time.

I had my adversary, an eleven year old girl. My goal was to make this girl respect her mother and myself. I expected her to balk, but I figured that logic and consistency would prevail. I should have been tipped off early on in our relationship, when she asked me a question for which I was sure I had the correct answer.

She asked me, “If the house were on fire, who would you save first, me or the cat.?” I answered that I would save her first. She asked me why and I thought here’s a great opportunity to build up her sense of self-worth, and I answered, “Because I wouldn’t be able to take it if we lost you in the fire.” And she said, “But what about the cat? Don’t you love her?” And I said, “Of course we do, but we love you more.” Surely, this was a good answer. I imagined I had scored big on our bonding, until I saw that not only wasn’t she happy with my response, but she was bawling. I looked at her and the huge tear drops that were falling and I was stunned. She filled in the silence with “You don’t love the cat as much as me.” I stuttered for a moment and she ran to her bedroom and cried some more. What was that? How did my response illicit that response? Clearly she was insane. Oscar Wilde had never been so dead on as that day.

Witty as he may be, I was in the wrong. My stepdaughter should not have ever been my adversary. Nor is she insane (though I still sometimes wonder) She was trying to make sense of her position in the household. She had come to me asking her what it was, and though I think I gave her a good answer it set her off. Perhaps, the cat was the only thing she knew still viewed her the same and I somehow ruined that by saying I loved her more. Perhaps, she didn’t know how to handle being told she was loved by her the new parent in the house. I will never know why she went off like that, but if I had known better I would have recognized that there was more to her reaction and I wouldn’t have so quickly dismissed it as insanity.

I chalked it up to just one more unique challenge and continued on with the rules. We locked horns many a time and grew further apart. I was new to the relationship and had not yet earned the right to lay down the rules and set expectations on her behavior. Now, we are two years into a long battle and I have to go back and try to do the thing I should have done the first time. Earn her trust.

It was a warm summer day in July. The sky was clouded and seemed intent upon raining, but kindly held off. I had arrived with a few minutes to spare, so I adjusted my clothes so that I would look my best. I was excited and nervous, this was going to be my first day on the job and I wasn’t really sure that I was qualified for the position. I was told it was a high-stress position that would require long hours and weekend work, but the benefits would be incredible.

The time had come. I left the lobby and remember the embarrassing sensation that all eyes were on me. It was hot and I couldn’t take of my coat. I started sweating almost immediately. But, I played it cool. I ignored the sweat and focused on the moment.

I was told this was a position I couldn’t take lightly and when asked if I promised to take it seriously I said, “I do.”…and so did my wife.

During the ceremony we brought my new stepdaughter into the ceremony to light the unity candle with us. We wanted to drive home the fact that we were now a family. With the blessings of the priest I became both a husband and a father. A role for which I doubt I could ever have adequately prepared. I began making many a mistake and will continue to make many mistakes, but I can say with a certainty that including our daughter in on the wedding was not one of them.

The simple act of lighting a candle together has reminded me many a time of my commitment and has been an image that guides me back when I want to step aside from my duties as a stepfather.

Being a stepparent is a tough role to play. You are expected to be responsible for a child that often sees you as the reason mommy and daddy aren’t together. You may be the one to cook the food, clean the house, put clothes on their back, provide a home, but when it comes down to it, you aren’t their mom/dad. The kids are quick to remind you of this. Sometimes they are cruel. No matter how much you’ve committed to loving them as your own, at those times a little voice in your head says, “They aren’t my kids.” It becomes easy to just say, let the bioparent take care of them.

It’s at times like these that it is nice to have a reminder that you are part of a family now. It is no more or no less “real” than the traditional nuclear family. If you are thinking about marrying into a stepfamily, consider including the children in the ceremony. If you are already married and haven’t done something to cement the idea that you are part of a family you should do so soon. Ask a leader of your faith to witness vows that you take as a family. Or, get a material reminder, even if it is a plastic bracelet like the Lance Armstrong bands. Find what ever you need to help you on those days when you commitment to the family is challenged.

I would love to hear comments about ways others have found to help them get through the tough days.

Once upon a time there lived a young girl named Cinderella and she lived with her two step-sisters and her evil stepmother… wait a minute, hold on, we’ve all heard this story. Poor helpless Cinderella, she had to do all the work around the house, got no respect from anyone, went to bed knowing that the next day would only bring more work without appreciation. Sound familiar?

I’m betting that if you are reading this, you are a stepparent (a.k.a, Not my Mom, Not my Dad, not my real parent, my dad’s new wife, my mom’s new husband, that jerk that’s trying to take my mom/dad’s place). I’m also betting that you aren’t here because everything is running smoothly in your household. Matter of fact, I bet if I re-tell Cinderella’s real story most of you will identify. Shall we try?

Once upon a time there lived a young man named Jonathan and he lived with his wife, his son and his evil stepdaughter, Cinderella. Everyday he woke up early to make sure he could get in a good workout before heading off to work. After a long and valiant commute to work and a stress filled day on the job he would once again do battle with the evil forces of the road in the hopes that when he returned to his home there would be a well earned peace and a good meal. Alas, his evil stepdaughter had been busy while he was gone and had destroyed the house, said mean things to her mom, and made plan’s with her friends to go shopping for designer clothes she absolutely needed for the upcoming ball. Jonathan walks through the door, worn and weary to the sounds of battle, Mom and Cinderella are at it again.

Cinderella sees Jonathan and comes to great him, not with a hug, but with an open palm expecting money for her shopping adventure. Jonathan sighs and asks her to do him a favor and unload the dishwasher. Cinderella says she is too busy, just give her the money and then she needs a ride to the mall. Jonathan tells her that he is not going to just give her money, she needs to help around the house. “No,” screams Cinderella, “You’re not my dad.”…

Is this story starting to sound familiar? Here’s the truth of the fairy tale most of the world knows. One of the brothers Grimm—I think it was George—had a thing for Cinderella and promised her he would make the world love her if she would go on one date with him. Cinderella agreed and eight hundred years later, the world is singing Bippityboppityboo and stepparents everywhere have a bad rep.

Stepparents take a deep breath. My mission is to set the Grimm fairy tale straight. In the upcoming weeks I will try to show the world the overly amazing and under appreciated role that stepparents really

have. I will hopefully demystify the stepfamily and show that there are no “evil” characters, just many misunderstandings. And together maybe will learn a thing or two about the steplife.