Grace is sick. Again. Well, not really, she's not really sick. My best guess is that she's temporarily anemic due to poor diet and starting summer swim team training. She had dizzy spells for three days until she told me about it over email. I told her to eat more meat. By day four, she skipped swim practice. She said she woke up late, decided she was too sick to go, and slept in until 10a. Now she says she's fine. She was convinced this was a side effect of starting birth control pills, which she started the day before the dizzy spells started. That's possible, I suppose. I told her to try eating meat or some other iron-rich protein for breakfast, I would call the doctor, and asked her to keep me informed. As I said before, she's been eating protein in the morning (eggs, ham) for two days and she's fine now. I'll take that as a sign that my best guess was right and that the birth control pills aren't having any negative side effects worth noting.
Ooooooooo kaaaaayyyyyyyyy. I'm going to try and make this a productive post, one that doesn't just turn into an ex-husband-bashing-fest.
Last week Dragonflymama and I co-hosted a discussion between biomoms and stepmoms. Her question to me going into this discussion was, how much do I worry about Grace when she visits with her father and stepmother. The honest answer is, quite a bit. I worry not because I think her father is intentionally harmful or awful, but rather because I think he is ignorant. He's ignorant about things that are important for basic quality of life. His younger kids are chronically ill, so I hear. And Grace is frequently ill when she returns from his house for weekend stays and for longer visits. For more about this, you can read here, here, and here. I don't even waste my energy talking about her stepmother on this issue; clearly her father is somewhat inept, and her stepmother either isn't able to help or isn't willing to help.
The most serious thing that's happened regarding this matter occurred just before I started blogging. In the fall of 8th grade, Grace was at her father's for the weekend and he called Sunday afternoon to say she was sick and could I come get her because he didn't want his other kids catching whatever she had. She had starting vomiting that morning. When he called, she was resting and drinking liquids. Bad, bad, bad. See, she has a chronic condition that is serious but manageable through lifestyle choices. The just-letting-her-drink-liquids-and-rest remedy is bad news for Grace. I drove to his house immediately to pick her up, only to find myself at the ER with her for the next nine hours. All night long, I watched her slumber in fatigue. She was woken up after every 1000 ccs of fluid to have her vitals taken. Three times she stood up, they attempted to take her blood pressure, and she subsequently passed out as I was holding her. Needless to say, she needed a few days to recover. (No, he didn't call that night or in the next few days to find out any news of how she was feeling. She didn't call him either.)
I could seek to stop the risk (that is, the risk as I see it) to Grace through legal means. I could just ask the court to cease all overnight stays with her father and let visitation be limited to day visits. I hesitate to do this. Though it would solve her health risks, her father wouldn't stand for it. When I was divorcing the guy and asking for no overnights, citing potential health risks, her father came at me like a bat out of hell. So did his attorney. I realized, I'm losing this one. No matter how much I think this guy is potentially harming his daughter, the court doesn't agree. They think this guy needs time and opportunity to parent his child, including doing so overnight. So that's it. His right to try and parent in a less-than-optimal way is more important than the potential risk to the child.
He was court-ordered not to smoke in confined spaces with her, nor put her in the situation where anyone else would. Like that piece of paper made any difference...
Next, if I did this, I'd get painted as the evil, evil, evil biomom. Really, I would. Can you imagine what this would come off sounding like? I just don't want to deal with the aftermath. And it's likely that the aftermath would come without any improvement to the situation.
Worst of all, Grace would be furious with me if I tried this. Though of late she's shown somewhat of a cooling off in her affection for her father and her eagerness to be with him, she definitely doesn't want to stop seeing him. Or rather I should say, she doesn't want to stop seeing his family. Over Memorial Day weekend, he and his wife hosted a big bonfire party with his friends. Grace and her two toddler siblings were the only children in attendance. (Bonfire? Children? Am I the only one who finds this odd?) Anyways, she willingly attended and, when it was quite late (11p) and the younger children could stay awake no longer, she took them home, put them to bed, and that was that. When she related the story to me she said it had been a great weekend. She said she thought her father and stepmother came home about 3a, though she wasn't sure. She just knew she woke up at 2a and they weren't home. But she was clear to tell me that they weren't drunk. Yeah, of course they had been drinking but they weren't drunk, she was sure of it...
I feel like I'm allowing Grace to continue staying at a friend's house for sleepover while the friend's parents aren't providing a safe environment for anyone in their home. Yes, the friend may be very sweet, and I don't doubt that Grace is having a good time while visiting, but it just isn't safe. The obvious difference, of course, is that I have (as of now) no right to limit the sleepovers, uh, I mean, overnight visitation with her father so he can have an opportunity to parent.
And really, what am I going to tell the courts that's going to justify my concerns? That my daughter eats too much junk food at her father's house? That she's taking care of younger siblings when her father and stepmother want a night off? That she's not getting enough sleep? When I think about how the affidavit would read, it's a weak case at best. And then there's the expense, both financial and emotional.
I know I sound like a broken record. I keep saying, this co-parenting thing is complete shit and I'm tired of compromising just because the courts say I have to. I am tired of sending my daughter off to this household and hoping she's ok. I want better than that for her. I want her to be healthy and calm. I want her to avoid unnecessary stress. Sure, she can have a relationship with her father and his family, but can't she do it without all the excess trouble?
Friday, June 26, 2009
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Jacko is dead? Whoa. That came completely out of nowhere.
All I can do now that it's confirmed that Michael Jackson is dead is link here to my post from last fall about him.
Wow. I mean, Ed McMahon and Farrah Fawcett was one thing; they were both relatively before my time. I was a little kid when these two were in their hey day. But Jacko? Wow. I am floored.
Wow. I mean, Ed McMahon and Farrah Fawcett was one thing; they were both relatively before my time. I was a little kid when these two were in their hey day. But Jacko? Wow. I am floored.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Aaaaah, summer.....visitation.
I got a call last night at 10:30p from Grace's father. She has been with him since last Saturday, the 13th. Today is the first day of "normal" summer schedule [read: not on vacation out of town]. He called to ask if I could pick up Grace to accompany her to a hair appointment she scheduled at 4p and then bring her to his house, 20 miles out of town.
There is such a long and convoluted story that leads up to this late night phone call, you would either be snoozing or checking your email in another window before getting through half of it. I won't torture you. Many questions ran through my head after his phone call.
So, there we are. Ten days into summer break and I realize that this guy is lacking in an essential skill for parenting. He's so lacking that at some point calling his ex-wife at 10:30p to get her to pick up the slack seemed like the best option. My thought is, if he can't take care of the kid and her schedule, a schedule he enthusiastically embraced and assured everyone that would work, why not just let Grace come home and see him when he can work it out? Is it really necessary for Grace to live with him for four consecutive weeks during the summer, what the courts awarded him seven years ago, if he's really not up to the task?
By coincidence, I read through our divorce and custody settlement a few weeks ago, which states explicitly that arrangements for this four week summer stay are to be settled no later than January 1 before the summer. I couldn't help but laugh out loud when I read that; he's never made that deadline. It has been four years since Grace spent this allotted four summer weeks with her father, mostly due to a fantastically awful situation that arose during the summer of 2005 when Grace's father left town with her and didn't tell me where he was or how to reach him. I called Grace's cell phone, no answer. I called his cell phone, no answer. Two days passed and I heard nothing. I got panicked. I called his parents and asked them how I could get in touch with them because no one would return my phone calls. His mother assured me that even though she had no idea where they were and had not heard anything from them in days, nor had anyone else, they were perfectly fine and there was no reason to worry. When he finally did meet up with his parents in Colorado at a mountain cabin resort (remember, he lives in Michigan and we lived on the East Coast at the time), he took the time to telephone me and to yell at me, saying I had no right to try and find him like that.
Um, well, actually I do. It's clearly spelled out in a court order that I do have that right, as does he, and it's a right of his that I had never violated. Oops. He was never very good at understanding legal documents. Ah, well, what are you going to do...
Since that time, I really haven't trusted him to take care of Grace for four consecutive weeks, nor have I trusted him to take care of her while I wasn't local to both of them. He never got his act together to come up with a plan for her to visit during the summer for that long, consequently, this is the first time that we've tried four weeks since the "Summer of 2005 Fiasco." For last summer's tale, you can read a brief recap here.
Grace is coming home this next weekend for a couple days. I worked that into the schedule because I wanted to give her 48 hours of recuperation time in the middle of this four week marathon of living with her father and his family. I also am, indeed, meeting her at the hair dresser this afternoon to see her for that brief hour and pay for her hair cut. July 10th, the day she is expected home for the rest of the summer, can't come soon enough. I'm so never agreeing to this again. He can sue me, but he won't. And frankly, I don't think he really wants the opportunity to parent for this extended time. I think he's always been relieved that I take care of all the difficult needs of this girl.
There is such a long and convoluted story that leads up to this late night phone call, you would either be snoozing or checking your email in another window before getting through half of it. I won't torture you. Many questions ran through my head after his phone call.
- Is it really so hard to keep up with your child's schedule that during the mere four weeks she visits with you during the summer, you can't figure out a way to make the schedule work?
- Why didn't he tell Grace that this time wouldn't work and tell her to reschedule the hair cut appointment for a more convenient time?
- Why did the guy wait until 10:30p at night to call and ask me about this? Who calls their ex that late at night?
So, there we are. Ten days into summer break and I realize that this guy is lacking in an essential skill for parenting. He's so lacking that at some point calling his ex-wife at 10:30p to get her to pick up the slack seemed like the best option. My thought is, if he can't take care of the kid and her schedule, a schedule he enthusiastically embraced and assured everyone that would work, why not just let Grace come home and see him when he can work it out? Is it really necessary for Grace to live with him for four consecutive weeks during the summer, what the courts awarded him seven years ago, if he's really not up to the task?
By coincidence, I read through our divorce and custody settlement a few weeks ago, which states explicitly that arrangements for this four week summer stay are to be settled no later than January 1 before the summer. I couldn't help but laugh out loud when I read that; he's never made that deadline. It has been four years since Grace spent this allotted four summer weeks with her father, mostly due to a fantastically awful situation that arose during the summer of 2005 when Grace's father left town with her and didn't tell me where he was or how to reach him. I called Grace's cell phone, no answer. I called his cell phone, no answer. Two days passed and I heard nothing. I got panicked. I called his parents and asked them how I could get in touch with them because no one would return my phone calls. His mother assured me that even though she had no idea where they were and had not heard anything from them in days, nor had anyone else, they were perfectly fine and there was no reason to worry. When he finally did meet up with his parents in Colorado at a mountain cabin resort (remember, he lives in Michigan and we lived on the East Coast at the time), he took the time to telephone me and to yell at me, saying I had no right to try and find him like that.
Um, well, actually I do. It's clearly spelled out in a court order that I do have that right, as does he, and it's a right of his that I had never violated. Oops. He was never very good at understanding legal documents. Ah, well, what are you going to do...
Since that time, I really haven't trusted him to take care of Grace for four consecutive weeks, nor have I trusted him to take care of her while I wasn't local to both of them. He never got his act together to come up with a plan for her to visit during the summer for that long, consequently, this is the first time that we've tried four weeks since the "Summer of 2005 Fiasco." For last summer's tale, you can read a brief recap here.
Grace is coming home this next weekend for a couple days. I worked that into the schedule because I wanted to give her 48 hours of recuperation time in the middle of this four week marathon of living with her father and his family. I also am, indeed, meeting her at the hair dresser this afternoon to see her for that brief hour and pay for her hair cut. July 10th, the day she is expected home for the rest of the summer, can't come soon enough. I'm so never agreeing to this again. He can sue me, but he won't. And frankly, I don't think he really wants the opportunity to parent for this extended time. I think he's always been relieved that I take care of all the difficult needs of this girl.
Stepmoms & biomoms - thank you!
Thank you everyone for your comments in the discussion of the stepmom-biomom controversy! It was very insightful to hear all the viewpoints, and also realize that each of us is in a different and unique position in our families. Please continue to comment on these and other posts if you like -- the ongoing discussion will be good!
And next, an update on my role as a biomom interacting with my ex-husband...
And next, an update on my role as a biomom interacting with my ex-husband...
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Keeping the conversation lively: I'm guest posting today
Where am I today? Not here. As part of our ongoing discussion this week about the stepmom-biomom controversy, I'm guest posting over at stepmama metamorphoses today.
So what are you waiting for? Head on over already!!
So what are you waiting for? Head on over already!!
Monday, June 15, 2009
Guest posting - DragonflyMama!!
Today's post is a guest post by DragonflyMama. DragonflyMama blogs at stepmama metamorphoses. She is stepmother to her 11-year-old stepdaughter and also mom to her 3-year-old son. Her husband and she have been at building a stepfamily for five years now. She also deals constantly with her stepdaughter's mother who is, how shall we say, less than accepting of her role in the girl's life. As far as I can tell, stories like hers are par for the course when it comes to stepmothers' experiences.
Awhile back, I wrote a post about how it makes me feel when Grace talks to me about her father and stepmother's kids. DragonflyMama, who is a longtime reader of my blog, took notice and commented. This began a dialogue between us, one much more open and sincere than the one we had already had going. We realized through that correspondence that though we play different roles in the stepfamilies we are each creating (I'm a remarried biomom, she's a stepmother), we have one thing in common: lots of disagreement and friction with the other stepfamily. Though it would be nice to believe it is possible to have it otherwise, both of us have had to accept that this situation will probably never change and have leaned on each other in figuring out how to make it work anyways. We recently decided to have a joint guest posting venture, her here at Comparative Childhood, me there at stepmama metamorphoses. Her post below was a response to my questioning to her along these lines: "As a stepmother who also has a biological child, do you feel differently towards these two children? If it is different, how? Is it different like the way a mother says, 'You are all different and I love each of you in a unique way, but I don't love any of you more or less than the other,' ? Or is it different in some other way?"
I am deeply grateful for my friendship with DragonflyMama and how much I have learned from her perspective on life and circumstances. We both have a young woman in our lives, one we care deeply about. Having her ear and hearing her opinions helps me be a better parent. Enjoy!
Please leave your comments! We hope to have a fruitful discussion about how many of us feel. EVERYONE is welcome in the discussion! post script - I'll be guest posting at stepmama metamorphoses this Wednesday, so this isn't the end!
by DragonflyMama
The day my son was born I became a mom. Yet, it’s hard to define exactly when I became a stepmom. The process of becoming a stepparent has been a very hilly journey full of emotional challenges, and just exactly that, a process. Quite different than going through the physical challenges of pregnancy for nine months and then suddenly one day I was someone’s mother.
I met my stepdaughter when she was just 6, and I was 28. I remember the first activity her father, she, and I did together was make collages on my apartment floor. We sorted through magazines looking for pictures of dogs and cats, and popsicles and flowers. She shyly watched me, and I overcompensated for my own shyness by being rather excited about her creations. I remember that day being fun and simple and easy. As her father and I got closer and more involved, I became more and more unsure of how to be with the girl. My own shyness, jealousy, and fears held me back a lot of the time, but so did her mother’s dislike of me and disapproval of me in the girl’s life. I wanted a deeper relationship with this man I knew, but often his time and energy was directed at his daughter. I also could see throughout that time that the child adored me excessively, and I knew needed to live up to her praise. For about a year, we three sorted through our various relationships with each other and through all our ups and downs slowly came to a place of understanding. I guess when we decided to live together and move towards family life together would be when I would say I became a stepmom. Though my role continues to evolve as I learn how to stepparent well.
On the other hand, when I became pregnant and chose to have the child, there was much less confusion for me. I knew from the first second what a large commitment it would be. I had rights to be with this baby and teach him and enjoy him in a way that I did not have at first with my stepdaughter. My relationship with my birth child did not need sorting out, or lengthy conversations to understand, or asking permission from anyone. It just was, and is. Though it is fraught with uncertainty and fear at times, in comparison it is much, much simpler. Of course, this too I am still learning how to do well.
Being a stepmom is most certainly different than being a biomom. I have been stepparenting now for about 4 years, and bioparenting for 3. And yes, I do love them differently. In the most basic understanding of it, I have no choice as to whether I love my son. I just do, it is in my being to love him. I have never had to fight anyone over him, and birthing him was enough to make me love him forever, no matter what.
Like any relationship that begins with two strangers, I do have a choice to love my stepdaughter. I have had to fight my stepdaughter’s mother every single step of the way to be seen as a valid, equal, and involved parent. Though I wish it were not so, her mother’s negative behavior towards me does affect my feelings towards the child. It has been a long, hilly road for me stepparenting, one that sometimes I have wanted to get off. Yet, I have also found that this fight with the biomom continues to reaffirm in myself my commitment to my stepdaughter. In the constant reminding her mother that I am here, parenting, loving, caring for my stepdaughter, I remind myself too, and I remember why I do it. Everyday that I get her up for school, make her lunch, take her to softball practice, wash her sheets, take her for a hike in the woods, buy her new books, and all the other things parents do, I do not because I have to, but because I choose to.
I love them differently, but I do not love my son more than I love my stepdaughter. I simply have been down two very different paths to become a parent to each of them. I have more time, more freedom, and more responsibility with and for my son, and thus I think the love I have for him is more constant and defined. And the connection between a birth parent and child cannot be denied as extremely powerful and deep. My relationship with my stepdaughter has many more constraints, boundaries, and walls to alter and overcome. From her side as well as mine. My love for her changes and grows. Sometimes it feels fast and sweet, sometimes it feels slow and painful. More so than with my son, it varies from day to day, and month to month.
There has been one ongoing highlight for me in being a parent to these two kids. When I see the two of them play, bond, and love each other my own heart becomes more full of love than I knew was possible. Watching these two sweet young people laugh together I sometimes forget how or why I came to be here and truly just enjoy the moment. I think, it really doesn’t matter the roads we’ve been down and the hills we’ve had to climb. All that really matters is the love.
Awhile back, I wrote a post about how it makes me feel when Grace talks to me about her father and stepmother's kids. DragonflyMama, who is a longtime reader of my blog, took notice and commented. This began a dialogue between us, one much more open and sincere than the one we had already had going. We realized through that correspondence that though we play different roles in the stepfamilies we are each creating (I'm a remarried biomom, she's a stepmother), we have one thing in common: lots of disagreement and friction with the other stepfamily. Though it would be nice to believe it is possible to have it otherwise, both of us have had to accept that this situation will probably never change and have leaned on each other in figuring out how to make it work anyways. We recently decided to have a joint guest posting venture, her here at Comparative Childhood, me there at stepmama metamorphoses. Her post below was a response to my questioning to her along these lines: "As a stepmother who also has a biological child, do you feel differently towards these two children? If it is different, how? Is it different like the way a mother says, 'You are all different and I love each of you in a unique way, but I don't love any of you more or less than the other,' ? Or is it different in some other way?"
I am deeply grateful for my friendship with DragonflyMama and how much I have learned from her perspective on life and circumstances. We both have a young woman in our lives, one we care deeply about. Having her ear and hearing her opinions helps me be a better parent. Enjoy!
Please leave your comments! We hope to have a fruitful discussion about how many of us feel. EVERYONE is welcome in the discussion! post script - I'll be guest posting at stepmama metamorphoses this Wednesday, so this isn't the end!
by DragonflyMama
The day my son was born I became a mom. Yet, it’s hard to define exactly when I became a stepmom. The process of becoming a stepparent has been a very hilly journey full of emotional challenges, and just exactly that, a process. Quite different than going through the physical challenges of pregnancy for nine months and then suddenly one day I was someone’s mother.
I met my stepdaughter when she was just 6, and I was 28. I remember the first activity her father, she, and I did together was make collages on my apartment floor. We sorted through magazines looking for pictures of dogs and cats, and popsicles and flowers. She shyly watched me, and I overcompensated for my own shyness by being rather excited about her creations. I remember that day being fun and simple and easy. As her father and I got closer and more involved, I became more and more unsure of how to be with the girl. My own shyness, jealousy, and fears held me back a lot of the time, but so did her mother’s dislike of me and disapproval of me in the girl’s life. I wanted a deeper relationship with this man I knew, but often his time and energy was directed at his daughter. I also could see throughout that time that the child adored me excessively, and I knew needed to live up to her praise. For about a year, we three sorted through our various relationships with each other and through all our ups and downs slowly came to a place of understanding. I guess when we decided to live together and move towards family life together would be when I would say I became a stepmom. Though my role continues to evolve as I learn how to stepparent well.
On the other hand, when I became pregnant and chose to have the child, there was much less confusion for me. I knew from the first second what a large commitment it would be. I had rights to be with this baby and teach him and enjoy him in a way that I did not have at first with my stepdaughter. My relationship with my birth child did not need sorting out, or lengthy conversations to understand, or asking permission from anyone. It just was, and is. Though it is fraught with uncertainty and fear at times, in comparison it is much, much simpler. Of course, this too I am still learning how to do well.
Being a stepmom is most certainly different than being a biomom. I have been stepparenting now for about 4 years, and bioparenting for 3. And yes, I do love them differently. In the most basic understanding of it, I have no choice as to whether I love my son. I just do, it is in my being to love him. I have never had to fight anyone over him, and birthing him was enough to make me love him forever, no matter what.
Like any relationship that begins with two strangers, I do have a choice to love my stepdaughter. I have had to fight my stepdaughter’s mother every single step of the way to be seen as a valid, equal, and involved parent. Though I wish it were not so, her mother’s negative behavior towards me does affect my feelings towards the child. It has been a long, hilly road for me stepparenting, one that sometimes I have wanted to get off. Yet, I have also found that this fight with the biomom continues to reaffirm in myself my commitment to my stepdaughter. In the constant reminding her mother that I am here, parenting, loving, caring for my stepdaughter, I remind myself too, and I remember why I do it. Everyday that I get her up for school, make her lunch, take her to softball practice, wash her sheets, take her for a hike in the woods, buy her new books, and all the other things parents do, I do not because I have to, but because I choose to.
I love them differently, but I do not love my son more than I love my stepdaughter. I simply have been down two very different paths to become a parent to each of them. I have more time, more freedom, and more responsibility with and for my son, and thus I think the love I have for him is more constant and defined. And the connection between a birth parent and child cannot be denied as extremely powerful and deep. My relationship with my stepdaughter has many more constraints, boundaries, and walls to alter and overcome. From her side as well as mine. My love for her changes and grows. Sometimes it feels fast and sweet, sometimes it feels slow and painful. More so than with my son, it varies from day to day, and month to month.
There has been one ongoing highlight for me in being a parent to these two kids. When I see the two of them play, bond, and love each other my own heart becomes more full of love than I knew was possible. Watching these two sweet young people laugh together I sometimes forget how or why I came to be here and truly just enjoy the moment. I think, it really doesn’t matter the roads we’ve been down and the hills we’ve had to climb. All that really matters is the love.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
The Weekly Slug: 28 weeks and I'm impatient
My swimsuit is not here. It is coming UPS. GROUND. Why on earth did I decide to do that? It started its journey somewhere on the west coast and last Monday evening (the 8th) it was in San Francisco. UPS updated their tracking today and it says that as of 1:05a Saturday morning it was in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Now I don't mean to be rude, but doesn't that seem a little slow? I mean, San Fran to Cheyenne in 5 days? At this rate, the Slug will be born before I get my swimsuit.
I WANT MY SWIMSUIT!!!!!! The daring one, that is.
What's in Cheyenne besides a UPS tracking station? I've only been to Wyoming once, and that was when I was 3 or 4. I don't remember what cities I went to. I know we went to the Grand Tetons because there's a great picture of me with my sisters and the mountains in the background. Yeah, Florida girls in the 70s in Wyoming. It's quite a shot. But back to the point, what's in Cheyenne? Is it sort of like Mobile, Alabama except with mountains? Or like Topeka?
I saw a moose in Wyoming, I remember that really well. He was about 30 yards from the cabin we stayed in, across the street. He was big with enormous moosey antlers. Maybe that was Cheyenne and I just didn't know it at the time.
OK, enough. Get my swimsuit to Michigan already, where no one would come for a summer holiday apparently.
I WANT MY SWIMSUIT!!!!!! The daring one, that is.
What's in Cheyenne besides a UPS tracking station? I've only been to Wyoming once, and that was when I was 3 or 4. I don't remember what cities I went to. I know we went to the Grand Tetons because there's a great picture of me with my sisters and the mountains in the background. Yeah, Florida girls in the 70s in Wyoming. It's quite a shot. But back to the point, what's in Cheyenne? Is it sort of like Mobile, Alabama except with mountains? Or like Topeka?
I saw a moose in Wyoming, I remember that really well. He was about 30 yards from the cabin we stayed in, across the street. He was big with enormous moosey antlers. Maybe that was Cheyenne and I just didn't know it at the time.
OK, enough. Get my swimsuit to Michigan already, where no one would come for a summer holiday apparently.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Upcoming attractions: Dragonfly Mama here, Monday June 15th!!
In case you haven't ever checked out her blog, you should read a bit of stepmama metamorphoses by Dragonfly Mama. She's a stepmom AND a mom. Talk about a cool perspective! Next week, Monday to be exact, she will be HERE, AT THIS VERY BLOG, to contribute some good chewy morsels of wisdom to savor! That's this coming MONDAY, JUNE 15!! I'm guest posting at her blog on Wednesday, the 17th.
I don't have any stepchildren, but I live in a stepfamily insomuch as my husband and my daughter are stepparent-stepchild. Also, my daughter has a stepmother and two other siblings in that stepfamily. So step-relations are very relevant to me to be sensitive to and understand. I read a lot of blogs written by stepmothers and remarried moms. Also, many of them stop by here (thanks, all of you!). What I'm realizing is that the world of family and parenting is filled with many stories unlike Ward and June Cleaver's life. It's more like the Brady Bunch without the groovy outfits and a loving Alice to help out. Oh, and one more difference -- the real world would be more like the Brady Bunch in which the boys' biomom and the girls' biodad come around once and awhile.
Things are not easy when you've got two households sharing a kid. I think we'd all like to pretend like the Brady Bunch story can occur, but anyone who's gone through building a stepfamily knows that the Brady Bunch version of stepfamily is really nothing more than idealized fiction, kind of like Trixie Belden or Hannah Montana. The parents at two different households have lots of potential for friction and conflict, and thus the overwhelming number of blogs out there dedicated to venting on the topic!
For more than a year now, Dragonfly Mama and I have been emailing back and forth and talking about the differences and similarities between being a biomom and a stepmom. From my side, I have learned a lot. It helps that our two situations aren't entirely different either -- her stepdaughter is a tween and her son is a growing three year old, not unlike Grace's experience. We also both live closeby to the other stepfamily in the picture, something that can be a blessing and a curse.
After much heartfelt discourse, we decided that it would fun (and helpful!) to guest post at each other's blogs. We could each give space to another voice, one that comes from the other side of the picture. By doing so, hopefully we could both glean some morsel of wisdom from that voice. I'll be guest posting at stepmama metamorphoses next Wednesday. But first, tune in here on Monday, June 15th for...
Dragonfly Mama!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Tree climbing - give me your input, please
Alright, all you smart 'nets out there, I have a question for you.
We need to plant some trees in our yard. We've got a lot of space, so don't worry about that being a limitation. We've thought about some good shade tree or maybe fruit tree that would give us some tasty treats in a few years. But then we realized what would be the coolest thing to have: a good climbing tree.
When I was growing up in South Florida, we had two oak trees in my backyard. One got planted about the time my family moved there when I was born, the other when I was about 8 or 10 years old. They were both great climbing trees, especially the one that grew with me. One year for my birthday, my dad and I made a wooden swing to hang from one of the more solid branches. I loved swinging high from that swing, feeling the branch move with me. I loved sitting in the branches of that oak. I would take a book or a video game and sit out there in the evening when it got cool. Sometimes I just went out there by myself to make believe I was someone different. The older tree was completely knocked over when Hurricane Wilma hit in 2005. The yard still looks nice, but that corner feels bare. My dad wants to remove the other one too since large branches of it were also blown off and hit the house, but so far it remains.
I want my soon-to-be-born girl (name still withheld thus far!) to have a good climbing tree. Or two or three. I live in Southeast Michigan, plant hardiness zone 5b. I need your suggestions. Let me know what you think would be a GREAT tree, one that will have a good trunk to get a first foot in, one that will grow strong and tall, one that will sprout branches good for gripping and good for supporting the weight of a growing girl. I don't care if it's a fruit tree and all the fruit gets eaten. I would love it if a bird or two decided it would be a great place to start a family. I just wanna plant a tree and watch it grow strong with the girl.
Also, I would love to hear y'all's best stories of tree climbing from childhood.
We need to plant some trees in our yard. We've got a lot of space, so don't worry about that being a limitation. We've thought about some good shade tree or maybe fruit tree that would give us some tasty treats in a few years. But then we realized what would be the coolest thing to have: a good climbing tree.
When I was growing up in South Florida, we had two oak trees in my backyard. One got planted about the time my family moved there when I was born, the other when I was about 8 or 10 years old. They were both great climbing trees, especially the one that grew with me. One year for my birthday, my dad and I made a wooden swing to hang from one of the more solid branches. I loved swinging high from that swing, feeling the branch move with me. I loved sitting in the branches of that oak. I would take a book or a video game and sit out there in the evening when it got cool. Sometimes I just went out there by myself to make believe I was someone different. The older tree was completely knocked over when Hurricane Wilma hit in 2005. The yard still looks nice, but that corner feels bare. My dad wants to remove the other one too since large branches of it were also blown off and hit the house, but so far it remains.
I want my soon-to-be-born girl (name still withheld thus far!) to have a good climbing tree. Or two or three. I live in Southeast Michigan, plant hardiness zone 5b. I need your suggestions. Let me know what you think would be a GREAT tree, one that will have a good trunk to get a first foot in, one that will grow strong and tall, one that will sprout branches good for gripping and good for supporting the weight of a growing girl. I don't care if it's a fruit tree and all the fruit gets eaten. I would love it if a bird or two decided it would be a great place to start a family. I just wanna plant a tree and watch it grow strong with the girl.
Also, I would love to hear y'all's best stories of tree climbing from childhood.
The Weekly Slug: 28 weeks
Today, I am officially 28 weeks pregnant. I think that means I'm in my last trimester. First, let us dispense with the good news.
In all truthfulness, I'm just putting one foot in front of the other each day and trying to get through each day. I told my doctor last week that I feel like I'm in my last weeks of pregnancy, rather than my last months. I know women often get to the stage that they wish the pregnancy was over already, but it's usually not this early and it's usually not in a situation where there are no serious problems.
Oh, hey, I bought a bathing suit. My husband thought that with all back pain and depression and anemic fatigue and such, I would probably enjoy getting out of the house and going to the pool. The advice I read about maternity swimwear is don't buy black. 'Cause what's the point, you're trying to look slim? Please. And, um, did I mention that my husband is Brazilian and has an opinion or two about swimwear?
So here's a picture of the swimsuit I bought:
He says it's daring. I like that.
- We've decided on a name. Everyone seems to like it.
- I am not freaked out about labor and delivery like I was last week.
- My glucose test came back good, so there's no concern I have gestational diabetes.
- Blood pressure good, swelling under control, migraines have abated, no signs of preeclampsia.
- I'm anemic. I'm taking daily iron supplements.
- I'm having severe reflux. I'm taking the maximum OTC dosage of Zantac for that.
- I'm sleeping badly. I think the slug is awake in the middle of the night, kicking and waking me up.
- I'm finding it harder to breathe. My immunologist says, 'that's asthma for you. Call me if you start to feel like the inhaler's not doing enough for you.'
- I'm having mild back pain. Occasional Tylenol's taking care of that.
In all truthfulness, I'm just putting one foot in front of the other each day and trying to get through each day. I told my doctor last week that I feel like I'm in my last weeks of pregnancy, rather than my last months. I know women often get to the stage that they wish the pregnancy was over already, but it's usually not this early and it's usually not in a situation where there are no serious problems.
Oh, hey, I bought a bathing suit. My husband thought that with all back pain and depression and anemic fatigue and such, I would probably enjoy getting out of the house and going to the pool. The advice I read about maternity swimwear is don't buy black. 'Cause what's the point, you're trying to look slim? Please. And, um, did I mention that my husband is Brazilian and has an opinion or two about swimwear?
So here's a picture of the swimsuit I bought:
He says it's daring. I like that.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Just a random question...
Did you like George Peppard better as Hannibal in the A-Team...
...or as "dah-ling" Fred/Paul in Breakfast at Tiffany's?
Talk about two sides of the same man.
...or as "dah-ling" Fred/Paul in Breakfast at Tiffany's?
Talk about two sides of the same man.
Monday, June 8, 2009
The up side
I've been a bit melancholy. That's an understatement, actually. I'm depressed. I saw a PSA on television yesterday for some depression medication and it included the rhetorical question, 'what does depression feel like?' Then the answer: depression hurts. And...I started crying. 'nuff said.
The family is doing well. I went out with a friend to bridal luncheon yesterday. While I was gone, which frankly was a long time because I got on the wrong highway and drove 20 miles out of my way, my husband took Grace to the hardware store to buy some last materials for her science project. They also bought a wheelbarrow, some planting soil and some seeds.
When I arrived home, Grace was upstairs working on the last of her project and my husband was out back planting seeds. There were little tags that said "basil" and "eggplant" and "watermelon" that Grace had made. Watermelon was Grace's pick. They also got some tomato seeds and zucchini seeds in the ground.
I'm a pessimist when it comes to gardening. I kill almost everything. Grace gave me a couple of those seedling kits for my birthday this year. You know, the kind that include seeds and a little pot and a disc of fertilized soil? All you have to do is follow the directions and give the newly sown seeds some TLC? She chose strawberries and lavender. I decided to get after it and try to see what could become of the thing. I saw some sprigs about two weeks into it and I had a tad of hope. That hope, however, was dashed when the green sprigs wilted away and two months later all that was there was dirt in two little cute pots. I bought 6 herb seedlings four weeks ago. Basil? Dead within three days. Marjoram held on for a couple weeks before biting the dust. So for me, I just feel like it's so defeating to garden. I feel like Dr. Death.
But not these two. They are optimistic. They believe that watermelon can grow in Michigan. And they're hoping their tomato plants sprout, despite the fact that they are months overdue for the prime growing season.
In the flower beds close to the house, there are several plants we've had the pleasure of discovering throughout this spring. Just in the last few weeks, we realized that we had three healthy peony plants getting ready to bloom. The biggest plant had one bud so heavy, the whole branch was falling over.
After I watched the depression PDA yesterday afternoon, the sun was setting and my husband finally came in from gardening. Everything felt odd. All was good and right with the world, yet something was not right. He said to me, you haven't even noticed anything around you, have you?
Indeed, I had not. There, only a few feet from me, was the biggest, heaviest peony, carefully cut and opening in a crystal bud vase on the mantle. A gentle yet robust expression of life, sitting there as if it came into the world just to try and cheer me up.
Hopefully this is a passage in my life, a phase. Maybe it will bring me to a better place. But in the meantime I'm trying to realize that the world around me is much, much better than I deserve. I have people around me who love me and who are happy just to see me happy and laughing.
The family is doing well. I went out with a friend to bridal luncheon yesterday. While I was gone, which frankly was a long time because I got on the wrong highway and drove 20 miles out of my way, my husband took Grace to the hardware store to buy some last materials for her science project. They also bought a wheelbarrow, some planting soil and some seeds.
When I arrived home, Grace was upstairs working on the last of her project and my husband was out back planting seeds. There were little tags that said "basil" and "eggplant" and "watermelon" that Grace had made. Watermelon was Grace's pick. They also got some tomato seeds and zucchini seeds in the ground.
I'm a pessimist when it comes to gardening. I kill almost everything. Grace gave me a couple of those seedling kits for my birthday this year. You know, the kind that include seeds and a little pot and a disc of fertilized soil? All you have to do is follow the directions and give the newly sown seeds some TLC? She chose strawberries and lavender. I decided to get after it and try to see what could become of the thing. I saw some sprigs about two weeks into it and I had a tad of hope. That hope, however, was dashed when the green sprigs wilted away and two months later all that was there was dirt in two little cute pots. I bought 6 herb seedlings four weeks ago. Basil? Dead within three days. Marjoram held on for a couple weeks before biting the dust. So for me, I just feel like it's so defeating to garden. I feel like Dr. Death.
But not these two. They are optimistic. They believe that watermelon can grow in Michigan. And they're hoping their tomato plants sprout, despite the fact that they are months overdue for the prime growing season.
In the flower beds close to the house, there are several plants we've had the pleasure of discovering throughout this spring. Just in the last few weeks, we realized that we had three healthy peony plants getting ready to bloom. The biggest plant had one bud so heavy, the whole branch was falling over.
After I watched the depression PDA yesterday afternoon, the sun was setting and my husband finally came in from gardening. Everything felt odd. All was good and right with the world, yet something was not right. He said to me, you haven't even noticed anything around you, have you?
Indeed, I had not. There, only a few feet from me, was the biggest, heaviest peony, carefully cut and opening in a crystal bud vase on the mantle. A gentle yet robust expression of life, sitting there as if it came into the world just to try and cheer me up.
Hopefully this is a passage in my life, a phase. Maybe it will bring me to a better place. But in the meantime I'm trying to realize that the world around me is much, much better than I deserve. I have people around me who love me and who are happy just to see me happy and laughing.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Update on homeschooling
When I was a sophomore in high school, while studying the Renaissance as part of World History, I was assigned to write a short report on the Italian architect Brunelleschi. I remember little else about the architect except that he designed the dome for Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence, Italy. It never occurred to me at that point in my life that I might get to actually see the dome.As if our family life did not involve enough ups and down and turnabouts, my husband and I decided the last couple weeks to do something a little unexpected. Not crazy, just unexpected. We thought we'd take the family to Italy for a semester. My husband had been pursuing teaching abroad for the winter and spring of next year. I encouraged him to do this, since he hasn't gotten the chance to travel for a sabbatical. The one snag of course was that going would mean he would leave our family behind. Me, Grace, and our new baby. Not the end of the world, but not what we really wanted either. So we started working on the unexpected plan -- taking the whole family to Italy for a semester.
No problem for me. No problem for the baby. But Grace. How do you work in a semester away when a kid is in high school and still make sure she stays on track to graduate? People do these sorts of things, there must be a way to do it. I contacted her guidance counselor and asked what we could do. He was more than enthusiastic and helpful. He said, no problem, he'd contact one of his colleagues at one of the other high schools in the city. The solution? Grace could do her studies at home using online resources already approved by the district, and while she was here in the states, she could still participate in swim team, orchestra, sit in on classes that would be good (like language classes and an AP course). Once we went abroad, she could continue her homeschooling using these resources and supplement using anything we wanted that seemed of use abroad (hello, AP World History).
We didn't tell Grace. We wanted to wait until we knew everything was a go. I was pretty sure she would go for it because she had been begging us for weeks to let her do an exchange program abroad during her sophomore year. That was out of the question because, oh my god, do you know how much those programs cost? But still...Italy...in the spring...I didn't think it would take too much convincing.
I started thinking about all the amazing benefits and possibilities. Our family, by that point the full four of us, could travel together and live away together. We could spend 4-5 months together. Grace with a new little sister, me with my two daughters, my husband with his daughter and his stepdaughter together, my husband and I, away from the hub bub of our typical American life. We'd get the chance to be in a new place for longer than a few days or a few weeks...we could actually get the chance to settle into a place and get to know it, a place that presents new perspectives and new experiences.
Under these conditions could I take up the task of homeschooling? Oh, yes. Sure, it would be a change of pace and something I'd have to begin planning for. But the chance to have one year just to give it a shot, spend time together, do learning in a way that Grace wanted to rather than how a teacher wanted to...that is irreplaceable.
Just about the time everything was settling down and the guidance counselor was pulling together all the information, we hit a glitch. The project abroad had been downsized and we no longer had the opportunity. Some other year in the future, maybe, but not now. But at that moment I realized what I had lost. It occurred to me that my family, one that is still in the making, has precious short years before the oldest child becomes an adult. The chance to sweep the whole family up and go on a venture together is slipping away from us.
So now I'm trying to figure out how to have that experience without the actual act of going away physically. I'm realizing that it's very important for me to have the family bond. I'm trying to figure out how to make the most of every day, every holiday, every birthday, every moment.
Ciao, Italia.
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