Tag: Uncategorized

Being a parent isn’t for the weak or faint of heart. Being a parent of a non biological child of divorce comes with it’s own set of challenges. Egos get in the way; slights become magnified; choices become heartache; and anger gets placed where it isn’t deserved. When a divorce is particularly nasty, the new partner may wear the blame for the marriage breakdown….so let’s clear that up right away. A marriage breaks down because of two people: the two that are married. Rather than assume your own part in a failed marriage, it is far easier to lie and tell children that it is the fault of someone else. Well, let me call BULLSHIT on that one right here and now. No matter what your parents have told you…if you are a child of divorce, the divorce was caused by your parents…no one else. And generally divorcing parents don’t chose to leave their children…they choose to leave their spouse.  Big difference.

When I think of my family, I think of my husband and our kids…..not my kids and his kids;  our kids.

Being a ‘STEP’ anything isn’t easy. A step mother, a step father, a step brother or step sister….but you know the conclusion I have come too? It would be a heck of a lot easier if everyone involved would commit to dropping that damn four letter word: STEP.  

Our family is a blended one. I have two biological children, as does my husband. Without going into a lot of details, when my husband’s children were 11 and 16, their biological mother decided she didn’t want the hassle of having kids (and the boyfriend didn’t want them) so she…in a rage…said for my husband to take them. Now let me tell you this: there is not a man alive that I would chose over my children. None.  But she did, and so very quickly we arranged for them to move across the country and they came to live with us. To be fair to the boyfriend, we had also just recently been successful in having the child support payments reduced from $1800+ a month to $1200+ a month so that may have had something to do with it. Of course that didn’t include paying for figure skating, hockey schools, sports and summer camps , but those we paid for directly so the ex never received that money directly and with receipts to prove it, the court lowered the payments.

When we married, my sweetheart knew I was a package deal: me, two kids aged 9 and 10, and a dog. Package. 

I also knew that I would have to help financially  support his two children, as well as support him emotionally as he learned to live without them …a fact made all the more difficult by his ex-wife’s determination to make even phone calls difficult. Visits were never ‘convenient’ and so, literally, for years, whenever he (we) wanted to see them, we had to hire a lawyer to write a letter to her lawyer to get her permission. It was a joke to her, using the children against him…to me, it was pathetic, nasty, mean…and very expensive. But we did it.

The day the ex decided she wanted a man more than her kids, I had no hesitation at all. Although living with us wasn’t part of the original deal, they were a part of my husband and as such a part of me. Of course they would come and live with us!  And so, we sold the house we had just bought two months earlier, and moved into a bigger one.

I don’t think any of us knew what we were getting into, but at that point it didn’t matter. Those children needed a home and a family and it was up to us to provide both.

And so, they arrived, one day in July, a small suitcase each and a box. That was it….wearing shoes two sizes too small, clothes full of holes, and a heart full of pain. In they moved..into a home with an already established family with a father they barely knew and a woman not their mother.

Right away I made it clear that I was not trying to replace their mother (why in God’s name would I ever want to?!) and that they would be treated the same as my own two biological children….with lots of love, but also with expectations and rules to follow. They had been fending for themselves long enough. Time for the adults to assume the leadership role so they could be kids again.

From that moment, they became my daughter and my son. Period. No step, no his kids. MY kids….OUR kids. We had some fun times, but we also had some challenges…boy did we have challenges!

I made some pretty HUGE mistakes. I tried to treat them as I had treated the older two. The difference was twofold: the older two knew without question how much I loved them, and we had a history…I had raised them from birth so they knew me and I knew them. It couldn’t be the same, but in my naivety, I thought it could.

Looking back, they were kids. Their own mother had just said ‘I don’t want you anymore’, they had moved to a home they didn’t know, with a family they didn’t know, to a town they didn’t know and schools where they were the new kids. I was the adult….I knew all this and truly, at the time I did everything I thought was right. It wasn’t. I know that now.

I have another son and daughter that are older. I became ‘Mom’  when they were just turning 7 and 9 years. Again, the word STEP, never entered into it. I love them as my children too. Perhaps because they were younger, or perhaps because I was the new one in the family, that relationship was far easier. When their father and I divorced, the kids and I lost touch. My fault. I didn’t want him to know where I was or anything about my life. I cried myself to sleep many a night I missed those two kids so much. I had remarried and  moved very far away, but the wonderful thing is, we are now we are back in contact and it brings me great joy.

Now that they are all adults, I sit and watch my husband’s two as they form a close bond with their biological mother. Part of me is very happy for them, but part of me rages in anger…how can they forgive the woman who threw them away?! Why are they now closer to her than to me? Why am I the one hurting? E-G-O

Because, she is their mother…and I am not. That’s why. Because I was, am, and always will be the STEP mother.  That is a truth. Regardless of the word.

Sometimes the pain manifests as anger…like going to the high school graduation for your son, and his biological mother is sitting in the seat reserved and paid for by you! The pain turns to protective rage because she could come across the whole country to his graduation, but couldn’t be bothered to attend your  (her) daughters a few years earlier?!

Sometimes the pain just sears your soul….like seeing the biological mother’s name on your son’s wedding invitation but not yours. Hearing your son thank  her for travelling so far to the wedding but not a single mention of me or his father. Seeing her get to have the honour of the mother – son dance. Being introduced as “My STEP-Mom”. I’d rather be just Peggy…introduce me by my name. I don’t need a ‘title’ that causes me pain.

I have never heard my biological children, now that they are grown, or when they were younger, use the word STEP when referring to my husband. He is their Dad….they call him by his name, but always have refered to him as their Dad. It warms my heart. I have never heard either of them refer to their siblings…any of them…as STEP. They are their brothers and sisters. Perhaps it’s because we have been together since their birth and they know that giving birth does not make you a mother. Donating sperm does not make you a father. Loving unconditionally does.

At my daughters high school graduation, she walked toward her two Dad’s…my husband and her biological father…and said with a huge smile “Which one of my two Dad’s wants the honour of the Father-Daughter dance?” Both beamed with loving pride at this beautiful young woman. My husband deferred to her other Dad and said, “You had her first, so you get the first half”. At her wedding, she only had one Dad present in the physical form, but she made room for the other…leaving an empty chair with a single white rose on the seat…right beside her other two parents, my husband and I.

The night that my children’s biological father died, my son said something that resonated with me, and does to this day. “I was so blessed to have three parents love me so much” He was 18 years old… The word STEP is not part of their vocabulary.

Part of me says it’s the way it should be…they need to forgive her to move on. Part of me is angry, because with all the mistakes I made, I gave them a home when she didn’t want them. Part of me just wants to be recognized. Even if it’s just as Peggy….I don’t want to be STEP anything. The biggest part  of me is jealous that the ex is the one they are close to. E-G-O

And so, in light of distance, time, healing and love, I have consciously stepped back. I am trying to keep my pain…and mostly my ego…in check, for in the end, all I want is what’s best for my children…all six of them. 

But the good news is that with  the next generation, I am not STEP…now I am just Gramma, the same as I am to the other three grandchildren…and to my youngest daughter….I say thank you for that.

2014. Ahhhhhh, I like the sound of that.

Fresh starts, new outlooks, better choices: none need wait for the start of a new week, month, year. However, other than a new fallen snow, is there anything so fresh as the turn of the calendar page from one year to the next? It’s like the world just gave us blanket permission to wipe away all the trials, tribulations, sadness, pain, hurt and failures, and to awake to a whole new chance.

January 1st always seems like a magical date to me…and this year with a new moon, it will hold extra special magic…in fact, it seems with another new moon on January 30th, 2014 is set to be a stellar year, full of promise, balance, compassion, joy and courage. But we must be mindful and pay attention to what each of our paths will bring.

Weeks ago, a friend, Dana over at http://thebeautifulreal.com , (a site I encourage you all to check out – she’s on Facebook too) issued a call to take up the “One Word” challenge. I’d read about this before, and there are several sites and books based on the premise, which, in short is, rather than take on a list…or even one new years resolution, you select one word to focus on for the coming year.

Never in a calendar year did I think this would be such a difficult challenge!. In fact, I never thought it would be a challenge at all! After Dana threw this right in my path where I had to trip over it, I agreed to make something I’d been unconsciously doing for a few years, more, hmmmm…well ‘formal’.

I will hold tight to last years’ word ‘gratitude’, for it has held me in good stead as I meandered my way through many months of pain, turmoil, confusion and anger, until, ultimately GRATITUDE lead me to a place where I was in the best head space of recent memory. I can’t let that go….and so,  I struggled for weeks on a new word to add for 2014.

My list kept getting longer, but one word keep showing up…in conversations, in writings, in my heart…and so, here it is…the word that choose me. I hear a lot, but sometimes I forget to pay attention…to the words NOT spoken; to the rustle of my intuition; to the stirring of my heart, to the movement of the Northern Lights. And so, as we enter this promise of a spectacular year, here, with gratitude to the beautiful woman at The Beautiful Real,  is my word:

Listening is to hearing, as seeing is to looking, and so, I will continue to be grateful and add something each day to my gratitude jar, and I will do my utmost to listen….really listen. To my husband, to my children, my grandchildren, my friends, and yes even to my dog.

I want to stop missing out on what the world around me is saying. I want to attune myself to the messages the universe tries to continually place in my path; to the whispers  God the Creator sends my way each and everyday. I don’t want to sleep through the music of life anymore.

And so, dear friends, on this, the purest, freshest day of a promise filled new year, this is my  wish for you: may you each find truth wherever your search takes you; may you receive enough smiles and hugs to sustain you through your alone times; if you can’t write a great novel, may you read at least one; may your heartache be tempered with memories of joyous, loving times; may your words be kind and your deeds kinder; may you get back tenfold of what you give; may your dreams be sweet; and may your health be appreciated and never taken for granted. But most of all, may you walk in the light every one of the next 365 days. Blessings.

Normally I’m a fairly positive person, but the past few months, I have noticed that I have been a tad on the cranky side. I don’t like being cranky. So eight days ago, I decided to get to the bottom of this and do a bit of self examination.

I started keeping conscious track of the weather, sleep patterns, conversations I have, what I eat, what I do, basically everything in my life.

I have come to the startling conclusion that it is Facebook that has been making me cranky! Well, not Facebook per se, but some of the things people are writing that I read. Those people, my Facebook ‘friends’, are often real life friends. Others are people I know, perhaps not well…..but as I look through my ‘friend’ list, I have a lot of people on there that I knew as a kid, or young adult. I really don’t know them now. Nor do they know me. They did, at one point in my life, but they really don’t know much about me now, (although if they are following this blog, that will change)….or anything about my journey. The same is true in the reverse.

Some have made a effort …as have I…to stay in touch over the years. Others have reconnected through Facebook, one of the benefits of social networking.

It’s a blessing and a curse, this Facebook phenomenon. I am not weak minded and tend not to follow the crowd. I consider myself well informed; I value other people’s opinions even if I don’t agree; and am a huge proponent of free speech. I enjoy a good debate, when it is based on fact, not emotion or speculation…..which brings me to the crankiness I have been experiencing lately.

Let me say, right up front, that I do not expect everyone to agree with me, or my opinions. I also know it is unrealistic to be continually upbeat and positive all the time. Living doesn’t allow for that. Living, really living, has ups, downs, bright spots and great darkness. We cannot appreciate the calm if there are never any storms.

I have had a couple of people mention that I am on Facebook ‘a lot’…..I call them “lurkers”. They are also on a lot but like many soap opera fans, they don’t want people to know they are there…watching, so they lurk, but seldom contribute. If you know how often I am on Facebook, the conclusion is that you are too…otherwise how do you know how often I am on? You are only fooling yourselves lurkers!

I enjoy Facebook. I like seeing pictures of your family, knowing your likes and dislikes, and what makes your life interesting. I also only have one person on my list of Facebook friends that I have never met in person. That’s the way I want it. I don’t want friends of friends unless I know you. I also don’t add people that ignore me, or are rude to me in real life, so stop sending me requests. I don’t want you ‘peeking in my windows’ , at least not without leaving the comfort of your home.

I digress.

There is so much negativity in the world already. Listen to the radio, watch TV, read a newspaper or news magazine and it’s there. For me, Facebook is an escape from the negativity for awhile each day. It’s like a coffee club that meets each morning just for the sheer enjoyment and pleasure of each others company .  Most of us enjoy the friendly banter that goes on from ‘wall’ to ‘wall’. That doesn’t mean I don’t discuss current events, including the bad stuff. I am a sucker for a good political debate and am quick to offer my opinion on the latest human tragedy happening in our world.

What is making me cranky are the constant negative posts I see. The “gossip” type things. I try hard not to gossip, even though it is human nature and I am not always successful. I truly believe that I wasn’t placed here on earth to judge anyone and I try to live by that every day. Having said that, let’s be clear. I don’t live my life wearing rose coloured glasses.

However,  here it comes…. not everything evil or bad that happens in the world is a conspiracy. Before you post something as fact, check to make sure it is true. Your opinion, as mine, is not fact. It is an opinion. There is a huge difference. We have to struggle everyday to figure out what is fact and what is opinion when watching the news. The lines have blurred and journalism has become reporting and between those two things is also a difference, sometimes subtle, sometimes blatant.

It’s not what gets posted as much as how it is posted….sort of like the “It’s not what you said, it’s how you said it” argument. I don’t care if you agree or disagree with my opinion. I do care when you try to convince people that your opinion is fact.

I was called to the principal’s office in high school once because I had challenged the teacher on the mark she had given me…and others…. on an assignment. We were asked to give our opinion on what we thought the author had meant with a certain part of a book.

When I got my paper back, I was stunned to see a ‘C’. Respectfully, I stated that everyone in class should have gotten an “A”. The teacher responded that I was out of line…and way off base concerning what the author had meant. I argued that our assignment was not to determine what the author meant, but that we had been specifically asked for our opinion on what the author meant. Two totally separate assignments from where I sat.

My point is , that since I discovered what…or who… is making me cranky, I have considered deleting those people, or leaving Facebook altogether.

However, now that I know the facts, I can deal with them. I, from this day on, will ignore the negative energy generated. It doesn’t mean anything about them or their posts will change, but I can. I won’t give voice to the negativity because I will no longer comment on those types of posts.

I am responsible for the energy I bring into my own space as well as what I bring to yours. I alone can control my mood and I alone can chose whether or not to participate in putting negative energy into a world that needs all the positivity it can get.

By the way, I know that none of you ‘lurkers’ read my blog either.