On the way

I've been trying to work on a new update for you. However, I'm currently fighting over the keyboard with Baby J. She is cruising, and is very, very successful as assisted standing. She also wants to help me write this blog entry because short of buckling her down into her rocker she keeps ending up over at my lap top. Her tiny fingers trying to mimic mine and type away. Except she just managed to pull of the "Delete" key button and I somehow magically got it to stick on.

Her and a lack of sleep are some of the main reasons I've not posted in a while. And summer vacation. Nasty Cat wanted to make sure I included that. Cross your fingers that I can post an update tomorrow and can get some good sleep tonight.

Survived Week 1 of Summer Vacation

Summer Vacation is here. This year we didn’t put the boys in the Summer Program at their school because in July (the middle of the program):

1. They’re going up to FH’s parents house for two weeks.

2. They’re going to Jane’s house for the week after that

3. We’re moving

4. Enrolling into the program you kind of have to guarantee that your kid isn’t going to miss a ton of days so we decided to not take up three spots so that three other children might get the chance to enjoy the fabulous program.

If you counted correctly that is three weeks that the boys are not going to be at home with us. I’m not quite sure what to think of it. Part of me is relieved that I’m not going to go absolutely hair-pulling crazy having them home all day. Part of me is going to miss them because 1) that’s a long time to not have them around and 2) who is going to do all those chores that they do? And part of me is a little concerned for Baby J who will not see her brothers for three weeks.

Normally when they are gone FH will show her their photos. The longest they’ve ever been away for though is three days. Three days is a whole lot different from three weeks. I guess it will just be a part of life though that she too will have to eventually get used to.

And with it being Monday already, here we go with Week 2 of Summer Vacation. I think I may require one of those beer helmets with the straw … except with wine bottles … or maybe martini shakers. I guess it really depends on what kind of day we are having.

Small Town Bound

I was raised in the hood because that’s where my dad’s family house was. The neighborhood went to shit around us. I went to sleep with the sound of bullets flying, and recognized a drug deal when it was happening right out in front of my house. My parents had about had it when a kid at my sister’s elementary school was caught with a baggie of coke. Then we moved to a small farming town because my parents wanted us to experience the safety and community of a small town.

We moved just in time for my 8th grade year. I vowed I would leave as soon as I turned 18. And I did, to go to college, but I keep going back. It’s a love-hate relationship, but it is home. My parents have since moved to another city but my sister and I keep going back whenever we get a chance. I’ve since then brought my new family out there and have submerged them as much as I can into my small town family.

FH and I have talked casually about moving there someday and with Older Boy about to start middle school we’ve decided we’d like to move there. I have an idea now about why my parents moved us there. Although it’s not the exact same reasons that my parents moved us.

Middle Boy and Older Boy have had a really hard time it seems. They’re really drawn in and seem to be big fish lost in a lake with little fishes. In other words, they do well in class and often get pushed aside so teachers can deal with the children who are not doing as hot. Also, they just closed two elementary schools in our town so their elementary school that already has large class sizes is getting an influx of new students.

We’ve asked Older Boy what he thought about moving to the small town and he was really excited. Older Boy asked for a tour of where all the schools were at. If he had been reluctant I think we might have reconsidered, but since he has a lot of enthusiasm and excitement I think we’re going to go for it.

We’re really hoping that being in a small community will help them to flourish as individuals … Especially with sports, new friends and a sense of security with the town. I’m genuinely hoping that they’ll feel the same way I do about the small town … that its home.

Being a Stepmom is Stressful

I had really hoped that maybe with time being a stepmom would be easier. As in, after time with the boys I wouldn’t feel quite as frustrated at times. But there are still some days it takes all the control I have not to pull my hair out, pack up the cat and baby and walk out the door.

It’s not even that I don’t like the boys. I love them very much. But I think there is a great amount of pressure I feel when it comes to raising them. I hear so much from my mother-in-law or other relatives on either FH or Jane’s sides about how worried everyone was for the boys’ well being.

I can’t imagine that everyone is exaggerating but I just can’t grasp how bad it was. Could it really have been that drastically bad? I guess it could have. But I just can’t grasp it.

I know that the boys have all blossomed into amazing individuals under my care. I know that they can only continue to grow and blossom more. But I feel like I can’t mess it up … Like if they turn out anything like their mother or worse then somewhere along the way I messed up in raising them.

I hear from both FH and Jane’s side this worry and concern from the past and receive a lot of praise and thanks for what I’ve done and what I’m continuing to do. (It’s really quite weird to have people thank me so often for being a mom to the boys. It’s nature to me, and it feels like I’ve gone up and beyond my expected duties the way they all thank me.) And it feels almost like there is a weight on my shoulder that I have to make these children successful. It is very overwhelming at times.

I know I can only take each of them so far. I can only instill my love, my values, my example and that they’ll have to take all those and create themselves from there. In the back of my head though sometimes I feel a whip and hear a voice that says if I don't give it 180% instead of just try my best that maybe I'm giving it my all. (I think that it all comes down to the fact that I am my own worst enemy as in I'm the hardest on myself.)

I honestly sometimes feel stressed trying to just be a mom to them. Now that I have a biological child of my own I’ve been able to sort things out. I feel a stress to make sure that I’m raising my own child the way I want to and to be the best mom I know how. But it’s just a different stress from raising someone else’s kids, even though they’re my kids too now.

Does that make sense? I’ve decided that I’m putting some money away (about $14) and I’m going to the Jelly Belly Factory out here to treat myself to six delicious squares of gourmet fudge. So good! And that is how I’m going to be good to me and try my best to relax and not stress out as much.

My Exhausted Excitement

I don’t know how I manage some days. My days seem non-stop between being the Mom Taxi, the Mother of an infant, nursing her, making her homemade baby food, making dinners, making sure the kids do their stuff, nagging FH to make sure Jane sees the boys, and working a full time job on top of it. Oh yes, and being a cat lady. We must not forget Nasty Cat.

I have a real respect for single mothers. If I’m this exhausted and I have a spouse to help out I can’t imagine what it’s like to go at it alone. Although I think three kids and infant must be exhausting to anyone with a pulse.

In short – Baby J is teething. Those cute little nubs of tooth have made their way through the gums and are continuing to make my days something else.

And

Baby J is now mobile. By mobile I mean she is flying across the carpet. She went from face-planting it wobbly first movements to “smooth as butter” in a matter of four days. I told Nasty Cat he has better start running now because she’s going to catch up with him.

And now, I’m proud to present to you My Exhuasted Excitement:

A Pat On My Back

Younger Boy has been having some issues in his after school program as of late. He’s been experimenting with poor choice words he’s heard, getting angry when things don’t go his way and choosing to play by himself.

In other words, he’s been acting completely normal as not only a kindergartener but as the younger boy who has been getting the shaft from his biological mother and no longer the baby in either of his two families.

We had a discussion yesterday. Basically I explained to her the things we’ve been working on at home and some of the things I personally do when it comes to handling Younger Boy’s behaviors.

We’ve been working with him on trying to better understand some of these things. We had a family meeting about not using “Sad Choice” words and instead asking an adult if he’s unsure about a word. Younger Boy is very intelligent for his young age and he really grasps at vocabulary. With him I’ve found that it’s a lot easier to just calmly explain that “this” word is not OK to use and that it makes me sad to hear him say it. We even had the boys come up with the consequences for continuous use of Sad Choice words.

I’m still working on helping him to de-stress. Usually a change of his environment or giving him something physical to do helps a lot. Example, if Middle Boy (who has his own set of issues) is aggravating him I’ll often have Younger Boy come downstairs and play with playdoh or draw. I think of it as if I need a break sometimes then they certainly need a break sometimes from each other.

I also told her I was actually surprised that he was having issues playing with others. As it is Younger Boy who is always making friends and playing with others when we go out while the two older boys sit with each other isolated from everyone else. His teacher said “Perhaps he’s just tired of the kids here” which I honestly agreed could be a possibility. His friends in the after school program aren’t the kids he plays with during his kindergarten class.

Side Note: I’m looking up ways to help children learn how to play. My mom made a point to me that the three of them have either only had each other or themselves to play with and perhaps they just don’t know how to play with others. So if any of you have experience in teaching play I’d love to hear.

Back to the conversation – his teacher told me that she can relate. She too was only 2 years old when she had a stepmother come into her life. In fact, her exact words were:

“I can totally relate. I was only two when my stepmother came into my life and there were times that I just wanted to scream and kill her. But now that I’m older I’m really appreciative of how she raised me. And I just want to take a moment to say “Thank You” to you for doing what you’re doing.”

Now, the main point of this post is that it’s really weird to me when people thank me for doing what I’m doing … because what I’m doing is just being me. I’m being the best mom I know how, learning from my mistakes and hoping that even though I’m the authoritative parent that I’m making a positive difference in the kids’ lives and can help bring some sunshine back for them.

I’ve had quite a few people thank me for what I’m doing and I never really know how to respond. Usually I just say ‘Thank you, that means a lot.” Which don’t get me wrong, because it totally does mean a lot to hear. Who doesn’t like to have some validation of good to their actions? But having someone who was Younger Boy when she was a child say that to me … it really made me feel better about my role as a stepmom. And I wanted to share it with any of you that may be new or a veteran to instant parenthood. Perhaps it will help bring you a smile too. Keep on swimming. You’re doing good.

It Made my Day

The other day Younger Boy was sitting down and doing his homework. It’s an activity where the sentence starts with a vocabulary word of the week and the child fill it in and draws a photo to go along with it.

I was sitting on the couch nursing Baby JC when Younger Boy came out with his paper:

YB: How do you spell your name?

Me: C-R-Y-S-T-A-L

YB: That’s it! Because I heard the “l” and that means it’s the end of your name.

Me: Oh, OK.

He went up to take a nap afterward and I went into the kitchen to get a drink of water. I noticed his homework for the day was still lying out on the table. So of course I had to go take a peek.

This is what I saw: