Before it all began...

Once upon a time, I was a young woman in college, with no children, and great big plans for myself. Over the years, those plans have grown and changed along with the size of my family. While reflecting on my final week as a college student, I was reading through some of my old papers, when I stumbled across one that brought back some pleasant memories. So, I thought I would share a story about what began it all...Here Goes!

I had always had a plan for myself for as long as I could remember. I was going to finish my Associates degree in May, and move to New York In August. I had it all planned out, down to me eventually becoming a famous artist and writer. I would live in a sleek industrial loft apartment in the busiest part of the city, so I could walk to Central Park. My place would have exposed duct work, concrete floors, and an open concept arrangement (my idea even before it was the “in thing”). I wanted the city life, the lights, the fast paced environment. I was independent. I was a free spirit, not to be tied down by anyone or anything. Of course, I would have lots of friends, go to all the best parties, and I would attend NYU to finish my degree. It was going to be the perfect life. Those dreams did not, at the age of twenty one, include motherhood.

Instead, here I was, pregnant with my first child and in a relationship with someone I had not exactly planned to be with my whole life. To top it off, I was facing what felt like nearly every pregnancy related complication in the book; kidney stones, hyperemisis (a fancy name for morning sickness all day, every day, all nine months), high blood pressure, gestational diabetes, and of course preterm labor.

The list of my self-piteous woes was a mile long, and I was angry with the world for the death of my dream. What had happened to that perfect picture of what my life was supposed to be? How was I ever going to achieve my dreams? Instead of living it up in New York, I was trapped in a small town in Illinois, too sick to work, unable to finish my degree, and on bed rest so I could barely leave the house. I was not married (which I had not planned to do until I was thirty anyway), but I was living with my boyfriend, whom I barely saw because he worked two jobs. We had a one bedroom apartment in a less than great neighborhood, and we were struggling financially.

To make things worse, I had been estranged from my mother for over a year because of a petty argument, and had no contact with my siblings who were off living their own lives, so I felt completely alone. What a mess I had made of things. Again, this was not the plan. I should have been in New York months ago!

On September 10^th, 2001 I awoke from a nap to my first contraction. It was time! We rushed to the hospital as fast as our broken-down car would take us, having to restart it every two or three blocks when it would stall. Coincidentally, the timing of the engine stalls happened to line up with each of my contractions, which made it even worse. Needless to say, it was less than an ideal situation.

We finally made it to the delivery room, but despite my heavy contractions, I was not progressing. All I could think about was all of the times the baby had tried to come early, and now he was refusing to cooperate. I was miserable, in a lot of pain, and more scared than I had ever been in my life. After a few hours, my boyfriend left the room staying he was going to go get my ice chips for me. I was frustrated, and angry, and I did not want his ice chips; "this is his fault," I thought. A couple minutes later, he walked back into the room with my mom. Apparently, he had taken the chance to call her earlier while they were hooking me up to the various tubes, needles, and monitors, and asked her to come and be with me.

I immediately burst into tears, as did she. We reconciled right then and there, between contractions, agreeing that neither of us had been right or wrong, just stupid. We had wasted an entire year being stubborn and mad, refusing to apologize. She was there to help me through my twenty plus hours of active labor, holding my hand, keeping me calm and helping me focus. I was having troubles breathing, my heart rate was racing, and my blood sugar was way off. I was sick, and getting sicker. The doctors started discussing a cesarean delivery. Even with the epidural, the pain was seemingly insurmountable. I was exhausted, and I wanted to give up. I wanted to sleep, and wake up with everything back to normal, but it was too late for that. It was too late for my dream, and too late to change things. This was happening, and it was happening now. Then, the doctor yelled, “Push! Push, now!”

Minutes later, the doctor reached up and placed my son on my chest; he was slimy, crying with all his might, and flailing around like a fish ripped violently from the water, gasping for air. The second he laid his little head full of curly blond hair on my chest and heard my heartbeat, he stopped crying, looked up at me, and grabbed my finger.

The world around me disappeared. It was like the pain had never existed. Gone were brash sounds of beeping monitors, the pumping of the oxygen machine, the echoes in the hallway outside, and the incoherent babbling of the people in the room. In that moment, the only thing that existed was this tiny little man looking up at me. In that brief second, my world shifted on its axis and began spinning itself around this new life I had created.

My dreams of New York, and parties, and fancy apartments sank silently into the deep waters of his big blue eyes. Instead, I could think of nothing more than protecting him, loving him with every ounce of my being, and making the best life for him that I could. The anger, resentment, and self-pity were gone.

A couple hours later as I held my newborn son, the whole world watched in horror as the first plane careened with the World Trade Center. Over the next few hours, the entire nation shook. Thousands of lives were lost that day, and even more were changed forever. It seems that rather than ruining my life, motherhood may have saved it. If it were not for my son, I would have been in New York that day…that had been the plan, after all, hadn't it?

One of the most tragic days in our nation's history, September 11, 2001...also the day I became a mother.

Today's Short and Sweet...

If you are like me, you feel guilty if you take time away from the kids for a date night. I am away from them for 40+ hours a week, I am a full time student, so my studies take time from them, and my three are with their father part of every week, too. So, needless to say, I feel as though there are not enough hours in the day, and not enough of ME to go around. Then, when we finally have time to ourselves, say, to go see a movie, I spend the entire time feeling guilty. Part of me feels as though I am being selfish, and depriving my kids of time with me that is already in short supply.

So, we found a strategy, and turned our date night, into LATE nights. By that I mean that we wait until 7:30 or 8 to head out on our date. We catch a late meal, and head to the late showing of our movie of choice. This way, the kids are already in bed when we leave, so we are not borrowing their time. The sitter has it easy, and it is much less to pay her, and we do not feel guilty! Everyone wins...especially US!

Step Five: Time is your best most valuable asset...

 

 

Spend it together.

Of course, you should make it a point to spend time with each of the children, individually. Making an effort to do something they enjoy will bridge the gap, and help you find common ground. It also helps to find fun activities that everyone can do together like going for ice-cream, visiting a park, or just playing outside.

But, this step refers to something even more difficult than that...spending time together as a couple. Unlike a first marriage, you are entering this new relationship with kids in tow. That means your focus is often on them. They often have you running in several directions, and by the end of the day you are both so tired, you are lucky to stay awake long enough to tell each other about your day. However, it is vital to the survival of your new family that you and your spouse stay strong, connected, and in sync. 

 

"How are we supposed to do that," you ask?

 

Take time off from the kids, and be a couple. After all, it was your love that created your new family, and your bond will serve as the glue to hold it together. You are not being selfish if you want time to yourselves. Having kids is exhausting, stressful work. Having step kids is even harder...you both deserve some time together, without changing diapers or guarding your food from tiny fingers, to remember what it was that made you deal with it all in the first place; your love for each other! We opted to turn our bedroom into a child free haven, with and commit to curling up in bed to read, chat, and watch movies. Then, every six months or so, we will take a weekend trip. Sometimes we only go about 30 minutes from home, stay in a hotel, get massages, and go shopping, but for those two glorious child-free days, we remember why we fell in love with each other, rather than spending our time dealing with tiny humans. We love our kids, but we also love each other, and both are equally important to the survival of our family. Besides, having something to look forward to makes the hard days more bearable!

Step-parenting will be one of the most challenging obstacles of your life, but it can also be one of the most rewarding, if you know where to start and where you are going. More importantly, you must understand that becoming a family is a journey, not a destination. As with any journey, the path to blended-family bliss begins with a single forward step.

 

Steps for Steps (continued)...Step 4

Step Four: Present a unified front.

As the foundation for your new family, you and your spouse must stand together.

No matter what challenges you face, together you should set goals, decide what will the rules be, and how to discipline. Once you have set the boundaries for the family, make them known to everyone. Your children will need to know what is expected of them, and the consequences for defying those expectations. In this new kingdom, you will rule together, and never question each other in front of the children...ever. Children, as sweet and cute as they are, are also smart and manipulative little creatures. They can spot the slights weakness in your ranks, and they will attack it!

My fiance and I agreed that we were both tired of feeling like the bad guy, so we did this through a democratic process. We got out a giant white board and asked the kids what the rules of the house were, and they blurted out everything they could think of. We added a few that they conveniently forgot to mention, and we all agreed on them together, eliminating the silly ones. Once we established the rules, we got to the fun part. We had the KIDS choose the consequences. They had some really good ideas; ten minutes in the quiet chair, 5 minutes in the corner, lose TV privileges for a day, and so on. Some of what they came up with was worse than we thought of! Once we agreed on a list of rules, and the consequences for breaking them, we managed to eliminate the role of "bad guy" from their vocabularies. Plus, when they go a whole day with no spins, they get to draw a prize card (none of which cost any money; story alone with mom, 15 minutes of videogame time, etc). Now, when they get in trouble (we call that "making a bad choice" in our house), they spin the wheel of consequences, and whatever it lands on, that is their punishment. The bad guy is a little plastic board game wheel, and we can even root for them if we feel generous! Nothing pleases me more then acting bummed with my kids when they get a bad spin...(as I laugh in my head). 

This is the actual wheel...forgive the picture, I took it with my phone! Email me if you are interested in instructions on how to make your own "Wheel of Consequences."

Steps for Steps (continued)...Step 3

Step Three: Be realistic...or suffer the consequences.

No one is perfect; you will make mistakes.

Know that things are never what you expect them to be, even in the best situation. It is time to realize that blending two families is complex, difficult, and even frustrating at times. Everyone will struggle to find their place. Remember, too, that though it may have been easy for your spouse to fall in love with you, his children will be a tougher sell. They may still be hurting from the loss of their parent’s relationship (through divorce, or death), and accepting a new authority figure will not be top on their list of priorities. They will struggle to balance their budding feelings for you, and their loyalty to their biological parent.

Do not expect your step-children to call you mom/dad. It is not your job to replace their biological parent, and your future bond depends on that realization. Instead of forcing the relationship, or trying to conform to some ideal of what things should be, learn to let it be. In order to have an honest relationship, you must understand that things will develop in their own way, and in their own time. Simply be positive and supportive, let them know you are there, and allow them to come to you.

Today's Short and Sweet...

Idiot-proof your finances!

When you have kids, saving money is next to impossible. If it is in the bank, it finds its way to some kind of expense, incidental or otherwise, somehow...diapers...milk...new underpants for the potty trainer in distress. Then, when you look back and try to figure out where it all went, it is a mystery! I have this theory that it all goes where the missing socks go when they enter the dryer...but that is a topic for another day.

To combat the unexpected expenses that seem to creep up on us almost every month, we started what we call our "Survival Fund." First, we did the budget to determine where our money was going each month, and picked one thing to work to pay off. It took nearly a year, but we managed to pay off my car (first time ever without a car note)! Then, instead of paying good-ole GMAC that cash every month, we had those funds diverted directly from my paycheck into a second account. Now, instead of my check being delivered in one direct deposit, it goes through in two separate transactions to two accounts. In one I auto-deposit $250 (formerly earmarked for my car), while the remainder needed for bills lands in my primary account. I set it up with the payroll department where I work, and it is perfectly idiot-proof, which is most defnitely what we needed! This way, we never see the money, so we don't miss it, and we somehow manage to save a little each paycheck, something we never thought would happen!



Steps for Steps (continued)...Step 2

Step Two: Discuss finances and come up with a plan before you marry.

 

One of the most common causes for marital distress is arguments over money.

You and your new spouse will need to develop a plan of action in advance, to avoid falling victim to the money arguments. Keep in mind, if you are willing to commit yourself, your children, and your life to this person, you should not be afraid to ask those difficult questions.  Where will you live; will you move into one parent’s home, or get a new home for the entire family? How will you handle finances; will you have joint accounts or separate? Who will work, will one of you stay home? Wait, how will you handle childcare, insurance, and medical bills?

I know what you are thinking; it sounds like a lot to take on. At first, it is, but it is vital to the success of your relationship and your family that all money matters be tackled before you walk down the aisle. You cannot just "figure it out later" and expect things to fall into place. So, make sure you are up front about any debts (medical bills, student loans, court fees, etc), child support or alimony orders, and financial obligations each of you has. You will recover from embarassment about having your first car repossessed when you lost your job flipping burgers, but if you lose the one you love for not coming clean, that is another story. Once you have the numbers, you can break it down, set up a budget together, and promise yourselves you will stick to it. If possible, try to set up a savings account. Trust me when I tell you that the more children you have, the more unexpected expenses pop up...

(Expenses like, hypothetically speaking, a five year old getting so excited about opening his birthday presents that he were to theoretically tip his chair back so far that he put it through a window in the middle of winter...not that that has ever happened...wink, wink)

Today's Short and Sweet Tidbit...

Being a parent is difficult, so I like to try to relive my childhood every once in a while.

Try to remember what it was like to be a kid. Everything was a new and exciting, your siblings were either your best friend or your worst enemy (this was day to day, or sometimes minute to minute if you had sisters), and you could conquer the world with a box of crayons. I stumbled across this little beauty today (a lovely tagged photo on Facebook), and I couldn't help but think back to those days. Please hold your laughter till the end...Back then, I was always at odds with my siblings, and then realized they had been my siblings my whole life. There was sort of an inherent acceptance there; dare I say, I felt I had to love them since they were there all the time! I wonder how much more difficult those brother-sister relationships could have been if they had joined the party later in our life...I wonder if we would hate each other if they had been my...(insert dramatic horror movie music)...Wicked Step Siblings!

Thankfully, as adults we are all very close, and for the most part, have assumed more "mature" relationships, though admittedly we do still bicker like children from time to time. Look at that picture...it kind of says it all!

Left to right: My younger sister Michelle, the spoiled rotten baby of the family. Me in all my coke-bottle glasses, smart kid, glory, My sister Shanyne, the oldest and therefor somehow the vice president of operations, my older brother Corey (now serving in Afghanistan),  who tormented me my entire childhood for being "a geek."

How it all began...

                Where did the idea for "Steps for Steps" Come from?

As I did, many of you will enter this new and daunting experience, that of being a step parent, with the best of intentions, only to find yourselves floundering each step of the way. We try to build the framework for our new world armed only with naïve ideals, unrealistic expectations, doubts, and fear. We assume that things will just fit together naturally, and that it will be as easy as it is with our own children. It is just these ideas that set us up for disappointment and make us wonder what we are doing wrong.

But, have no fear, there is hope! While your new family may not come with that much needed how-to manual, there are some simple steps to help ease the stress of step-family life. In the upcoming posts, I will share with you all some lessons I have learned, not only in my studies as a communications major, but in my life as a wife, mom, and step mom. In the next few posts, look for excerpts (like the one below) from an article I wrote a few months ago entitled, "Steps for New Steps." I wrote the article for one of my major courses, but it inspired me to do more and to reach out to others in my situation.............Enjoy!

Step One: Have a real conversation with your kids.

Children are capable of understanding much more than we tend to give them credit for.

Talk to them early on, and explain the possibility of remarriage, new living arrangements, and even the chance of inheriting new siblings. Most importantly, learn to actively listen. Your children will have an opinion, and they will need to feel heard. Let them express their feelings, without fear of disappointing you or being judged. Let them speak, and even if your feelings (or pride) are hurt, do not interrupt. It sounds so simple, but it is not. Try to avoid interrupting or jumping in to defend your mate or his offspring. Instead, allow your children time to process things in their own way. Remember, just because you are in love with your new mate, does not mean that your children will be (at least not right away).

They will have questions, and try not to get upset when they ask them. My youngest (before the baby came, that is) was just 2 1/2 years old when I met my fiance, and his first question was this: "Mommy, you got rid of Daddy cus you didn't love him no more, and got a new boy to be your friend. Does that mean you will get rid of me too?" OUCH. Like I said, this part is tough, but it is totally worth it. I was able to bond with my boys by allowing them the freedom to say how they really felt. It was difficult to hear about their anxieties, disappointments, and even their somewhat amusing worries over sharing their toys. In the end, we all agreed to give it time, and try to be patient with each other.

Short and Sweet for the day:

Learn to appreciate your step children.

You may not yet "love" them, and in some cases, you may not even like them. Hopefully that will improve with time, but at first the relationship is more work than fun. I have heard that inheriting teens can be a nightmare for some, so I suppose I got lucky that mine were so young. Either way, you have to find some common ground or neither of you will survive. What helped me was putting myself in their shoes...

How would I feel if my world was ripped in half, my mother was no longer there for me, and my dad replaced her with this new mom, with different rules, a new house, new brothers, and no idea if my opinion even mattered in any of it. I would act out a little, to say the least. I would fight this lady, and assume she is the bad guy, the reason my world is in disarray! Now, imagine if this new woman in daddy's life told me no, didn't do things the way I was used to, and didn't really seem to get what I liked, what I needed, and what I thought was fun. Pretty overwhelming, right?

Well, my two were 1 and 3 when I inherited them into my brood, their level of needy was off the charts, and here I was taking their daddy away from them. So, I had to take a step back and realize that as hard as this whole transition was on me (and believe me, it was), it was just as hard on them. The only thing I could do was find one thing...just one small window into their world, to join theirs with mine. With Noah (he is our autistic soldier), it was drawing and writing. I would sit with him for hours and write the alphabet, draw pictures, and build with blocks. With Elijah, it was just cuddling. He is a clingy lovey-dovey type, so he was content to curl up on the couch and watch cartoons. It was small, and simple, but most importantly, it was on their terms.

Left to Right: Elijah (now almost 4), Me, Noah (almost 6)

Every journey starts with a step, right?

Force things together, and they will come apart...

I know, it all soundsoxymoronic, but the truth of the matter is, that surviving as a blended family means learning when to mix and when to divide. This may be contrary to a lot of the "puppy dogs and rainbows" style information that step parents are used to reading, but it is real advice from someone who has lived it.
In the beginning, we thought that it was vital that we force the family together, do everything together, even put his kids and my kids together in bedrooms (against their will, I am ashamed to admit). That did not work. It only created more friction between two very different groups of kids.

My boys were used to my way of doing things. Their world had always centered around respect, discipline and routine..interspersed with fun and creativity. We would take trips to the park, do art projects, I would give them cooking lessons, and we would even play together in the dirt. They are good humored, and well behaved, but sensitive to change, and resist it at all costs!

Mine

His boys were used to their dad working a lot and missing out (he was a great dad, but they were often asleep by the time he got home from his shift). Meanwhile their mom, who did not work, spent the majority of her day on the internet, ignoring their needs, and feeding them junk food. Their mother walked away, leaving them with a whole new family, trust issues, and a fear of abandonment.

His

Admittedly, our children were not only raised differently, but they had very different personalities. Add to that the grief the kids were feeling over the loss of what they had always known (however dysfunctional it may have been), and you have some very resistant and confused kiddos. This made them irritable, argumentative, and down right rotten (though this was not really their fault), which meant it was even more difficult for my fiance and I to bond not only with each other's children, but even with our own...what a mess!

So, we took a step back, and decided that the best way to get the kids (and our family as a whole) together, was to separate them, and let things happen naturally...they needed to figure it out on their own. We put them in bedrooms where they felt comfortable with their room mates, and allowed them each to have their own space. They had a safe place for their own things, which they did not have to share with anyone else, but this came with the understanding that they were not to "hide" in their rooms from each other (or from reality). In addition, we created a sort of toy-infested Switzerland that we call "the green room," an obvious nickname given by a three year old based on the color of the walls. The green room is full of toys, games, and even a giant dry erase board, where all of the kids can go to play together.

Then, we met in the middle with neutral things we could all agree on like making homemade pizzas on Friday nights, watching movies, playing dodgeball in the yard, and a little something we like to call Arty Party!. From there, we let the kids come to us, and in the process we all managed to meet in the middle. They responded with great enthusiasm, and even started co-mingling with each other without being prompted to. Three years later, nobody can tell which kids are mine, and which are his...because they are all OURS.

                                                    

OURS!