May 16

Ask a Stepmom: Your Stepchildren are More Important Than You (Embroider this on a pillow if necessary)

For the past few months, I’ve received quite a few emails asking me for advice. Most of these women are stepmamas who, like the rest of us, are still trying to figure out their new life. It’s an ongoing journey, much like “traditional” parenting, and it’s hard to find advice and encouragement that fits every stepmom’s needs because we all have such different situations. Just like there’s no “100% works” solution to make your baby go to sleep, there’s no “100% works” advice for a stepmom. All we can do is be there for each other and offer the most positive advice we can. This role of ours is tough, but so rewarding in a lot of ways. We need to be there for each other!

So, I’ve decided to open up a “segment” here at the blog where you guys can send me any questions you might have and we’ll work it out together here! It’s incredible to me how different each of our situations are, but that we’re all united by one thing: we are the stepmoms. I promise that this will be a completely positive, no hate zone and that you can all be free to share your opinions, stories and advice in the comments. This will not become a negative place to bash on your stepchild’s mom or your stepchildren, but a place where you can feel free to share your worries, concerns and feelings about everything.

If you want to have your question answered, drop me a line at fairytangles (@) gmail.com OR go to the new ask a stepmom page and use the contact form. All letters will be anonymous and I will email you back to let you know my response is up on the blog! Fire away, girls.

—–

Hi,

My husband and me have been married for just over a year & he has a 3yo son. When we first started dating I tried to bond with his son (he was not even a year old) but it just didn’t happen. I hated it when my husband would have to cut dates short because it was his night to get him (he has him every wednesday night & then every other weekend) or when our weekends together were spent playing with the baby and waking up in the middle of the night. I know that sounds horrible but it felt like this huge burden. My husband never asked me to do any of the chores or anything and he always put his son to bed, gave him his bath & stuff but it still didn’t feel right. My husband tried to get me to bond with his son by having us play together or all of us going to the zoo but his son would just cry every time he got near me.

When we got married everything was a little better but not by much. Then about four months ago my husband started talking about getting his son more & started talking to his exwife about it. She agreed to split their custody 50/50 and now my stepson is here every other week. I feel trapped. I feel like all of this time I had with my husband is gone & i feel like an intruder in my own house. I feel very out of place & my stepson still hasn’t really bonded with me. He never asks me to do anything for him & he never wants me to play with him. He’s never mean to me or anything but it’s obvious I’m not his favorite person. And to be honest he’s not mine either. I’m so jealous when he’s here and all my husband does is play with him or cuddle with him on the couch. Somedays I don’t know how much more of it I can take especially now that I’m pregnant with my own child. I worry that my husband will spend all his time with his son & that his kid will always come before me & our child. I worry that if something doesn’t change I’ll end up resenting my own husband just like I resent his son. I can’t live like this.

—–

Phew. Girl. First of all, I want to thank you for sharing your story. I can only imagine how hard that must be and we all know that being resentful is one of the worst feelings ever. What’s that comparison? Like taking poison and waiting on the other person to die? It’s an awful feeling and I think everyone can relate to it.

What I want to say to you is that you are extremely lucky to have such a doting father for a husband. That may not be what you want to hear right now, but you need to, especially now that you’re expecting your own little one (Congratulations!). Too often, I hear about fathers who remarry and put their children aside for their “new family” and wife. That is not okay, by any means. To hear that your husband is so good with his son, has asked for more time with him AND got it? That means he is a phenomenal man and an A+ father. It also sounds like your stepson has a pretty great mom who is doing what is best for her son and man, that little boy is pretty lucky. These situations don’t always turn out that way.

So be grateful that your husband IS such a good father. It’s important and, honestly, who would want to marry a man that cast aside his own child? Especially if you’re wanting to have more children with him!

I also want to tell you that, while I understand your feelings of resentment, I think you’re casting them on the wrong person. Your stepson, my dear, is more important than you. That’s the bottom line. Your worry about your husband putting his stepson before you? That shouldn’t be a concern because that is how it needs to be. The way you’ve described your husband makes me think he will be overjoyed to have a second child and that he will love your child together just as much as he loves his child with his ex-wife. You do not have to worry about that, but you do need to stop thinking of you and your child as separate from your stepson.

You all are a family. You knew when you were dating your husband that he had a son and if you didn’t want to be a stepmother, that you should not have married him. Loving your husband as fiercely as you do means loving your stepson just as much. You didn’t just marry the man you love, you married his child, too. Pretending like he doesn’t exist, resenting him or wishing he wasn’t around is going to ruin your marriage. It is not you and your husband and then your husband’s son. It is YOUR STEPSON, then you and your husband. Your stepson comes first, bottom line. He is more important than you.

If you’re not bonding with your stepson, it might be because he can tell that you are not thrilled with him. Kids know this stuff and if you’re not willing to get down on the floor to play with him? Then he’s not willing to ask you to read him a bedtime story. I think it’s admirable that your husband takes on all of the kid duties and responsibilities, but I’ve found that in my own stepmom experience, being the caretaker every now and then can really help bond you and your stepson. I love making my stepkids breakfast in the morning and I love that they can come to me just as easily as they can my husband. It’s important. Taking care of someone is a great way to show affection and love towards them! Try it with your stepson. Make his lunch one day and offer to play a game with him. Ask him if you can read him his bedtime story or give him a bath. It may not be easy because, after two years of not bonding with him, he really doesn’t know much about you. Take baby steps. Tell your husband you want your relationship with your stepson to be better. I can guarantee you that he’ll be on board with it as well.

It’s going to be hard. Being a stepmom isn’t easy, but your resentful feelings and worries can be fixed. Stop looking at your stepson as a burden. If you want to be with your husband and you want to love him with all you have, then you have to be with your stepson and love him, too. You have to realize that your stepson comes FIRST, just like your own child will come before you and your husband. You’re lucky that your stepson is young enough to bond with and that you didn’t wait until he was fourteen to try and figure things out, but you need to start now.

This is your family. Love it. Cherish it. When you marry a man with children, you are no longer #1 and that’s something you need to deal with. If you can’t handle being second to your stepson, something has to change.

Stepmamas, your stepchildren are more important than you. No exceptions.

Your stepchildren are more important than you.

—–

Does anyone have any advice or encouragement to share with our friend? Remember to keep it positive, but truthful. We don’t need sugarcoating, but we also don’t need insults or hate!

May 13

My Mother’s Day as a Stepmom

Saturday morning, I was just getting dressed after a shower when I heard David opening the front door.

“Shhhh,” he whispered. “Don’t say anything, it’s a surprise. Come stand over here.”

I hurriedly threw on some jeans, grabbed David’s super-soft Yoda t-shirt and was about to open the door when I heard a huge belch in the hallway.

“…hello?” I said, although I knew exactly who it was.

“That was Trey!” Chloe hollered and I heard her little brother giggle.

When I opened the door? Both kids were standing there with a huge bouquet of flowers. Oh, my heart.

I totally get it now, this whole Mother’s Day thing. I get why moms are so excited to be served runny eggs and scraps of cardboard covered in still-wet glitter. It’s all about seeing the look on your kids’ faces when they give it to you. Their eyes are so happy, they bounce up and down in one spot and grin, waiting to see how you react.

I’ll tell you how I reacted, shall I? Like a Ms. America contestant.

I took the flowers from Chloe and grabbed both of them up in a huge hug, covering them with kisses. “I picked out the flowers!” Chloe told me and that made me even more weepy. It was a total Hallmark moment and one I was totally not expecting. When their mama had texted me the day before asking me if I would be home on Saturday, I was kind of confused. She told me she wanted to bring by some brownies she had made, which I was excited about, but still all “…huh?” I mean, we don’t live nearly the distance we used to, but a twenty minute trek across town to bring me some brownies is still a chunk of time out of her Saturday, you know?

But when I saw the kids standing there with the flowers, all I could think was “She is the best mom ever.”

The kids and I went outside where their mom was waiting in the car with their little brother. I told her thank you half a dozen times, but she was very nonchalant about it, which made me even more weepy. She didn’t do this to make herself look good, she did this to make me feel good and I will forever be grateful for that. Our relationship has evolved a lot in just a few years, but I truly think that when God made me a stepmama, he wasn’t just giving me a family to love and be a part of, he was giving me a true friend.

Over the past few weeks, Google has been sending lots of you stepmamas and husbands of stepmamas to this blog. There are a lot of us out there struggling with feeling invisible, wanting to be involved, but not having the “approval” and trying to prove to society that we matter. We know this is the hardest job ever, especially when people remind us of it on a daily basis, and we need support from someone who understands, someone who gets it.

I’m glad y’all are here. I hope I’m helping you out because I understand, I get it. And the reason I feel like I’m able to be so positive about my experience, the reason I’m so eager to share my journey with the world and with all of you is because my stepchildren’s mama understands and she gets it. She’s a stepmom, too, but even if she wasn’t? I truly believe she would be just as supportive of me being in her kids’ lives as she is now. She tells me how much she appreciates me, how thankful she is that I love her kids like she does. She tells me that, even though I’m not their mama, Chloe and Trey still love me and that she couldn’t ask for anyone better in their lives. She is an incredible mama, one who knows that what’s best for her children is to see all of their parents getting along, and she works hard to make that happen. I can only imagine how hard it might have been for her when I came into the picture, but she has never let me know how hard it was. She’s an original, I know, but I pray that all of you can find one like her. She makes this stepmom journey so much more rewarding.

So, stepmoms? I hope you’re okay. I hope you had a good day yesterday and I hope that someone out there told you “Happy Mother’s Day”. I hope that someone said “Thank you for all you do”. I hope that your husband told you he loved you, thanked you for loving his kids and I hope that you know how worthy you are of all of that and more.

And I hope that one day, if you don’t have it already, you and your stepchildren’s mama will have a good relationship. I hope that you can tell her “Thank you for letting me love your babies without inhibition” and I hope that she says “Thank you for loving my children like I do.” Because it is so good. It is so nice to sit together during field day and talk over McDonald’s instead of sitting on opposite ends of the field and waving goodbye when it’s all over. Try, stepmamas and mamas! You will be so surprised at how easy and how fulfilling it is.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of you, but especially MY stepkids’ mama who gave me the best gift ever: her acceptance of my role in her children’s life, her appreciation of all that I do and, most importantly, her friendship.

flowers from the kids

May 10

Great Granny Cameron’s Corn Fritters

Remember when Granny Jo made me a family cookbook for a wedding gift? It has become my most used cookbook in our kitchen, especially because the recipes are as southern as they can get and, while David will eat and enjoy nearly everything you put in front of him, the way to his heart is through some good ol’ southern cooking.

Specifically? My Great Granny Cameron’s Corn Fritters.

Let me tell you something about my Great Granny Cameron, by the way. She had a total of nine children and when my Granny Jo, her second to last child, was about four years old? Great Granny Cameron’s husband walked out on her. He left her there, alone, in the late 1930s, to raise nine children. Granted, the oldest girls were already married and living on their own, but still. From the stories my granny tells me, they were below the poverty line, but none of them ever went without dinner on the table, a clean house or clean clothes to wear. Obviously, my Great Granny Cameron was superwoman.

She was also, I’ve heard, one hell of a cook. Most of the recipes in our family cookbook are hers and, all my life, I have been told that no one can make her chocolate cake like she could. When I think about all she had to struggle with, especially raising kids during the depression (especially NINE OF THEM), it makes my head swim. This woman managed to cook full-on DELICIOUS meals, regardless of what her day was like, and us women in the 21st century often call in for pizza because we don’t feel like washing the dishes.

…I know. I feel like the Queen of the Lazies.

But this recipe? You will love this recipe. The men in your life will love this recipe. David, his brother and his dad all raved about these fritters so much, I thought they were putting me on. In fact, I made about fifteen of them and an hour later, there was one left. I ate it and then had to hear David holler about how there wasn’t any left. Chloe and Trey both loved these, too, which is like a kitchen miracle or something. Make them! You will be glad you did.

(By the way, I don’t claim to be a “cook” or anything. This most definitely isn’t a “food blog” and I’m not a “foodie” (Although I am an Excessive Quotation Mark User (“”"”")). I just wanted to share this recipe in hopes that you all might enjoy it, too. There are two pictures, but this recipe’s pretty darn simple. Pinky promise.)

Great Granny Cameron’s Corn Fritters
(Don’t worry, she would’ve wanted you to call her that, too.)

1/2 cup of self-rising flour
1 cup of self-rising cornmeal
1/8 teaspoon of salt (I just kind do a little dash and let it go)
1 egg (beaten)
1 can of corn (normal size!)
1 onion (small and chopped)

Combine flour, cornmeal and salt.
Stir in egg, onion and corn, mixing well. Add just a tiny bit of water to help it mix well. It should look like batter.
Add oil to a frying pan and set it to medium-high heat. Let it get nice and hot.
Carefully drop batter by tablespoonfuls into oil. I like to mash the tablespoon down with the back of the spoon to make them more “uniform” and to help them cook evenly.
Fry until the edges are golden brown and flip ONCE. Wait about a minute or so and then remove them from oil and onto a plate lined with paper towels. DONE.

corn fritters

That’s the batter to the right and that’s what the fritters should look like in the pan after flipping them once.

My Granny told me that her mama made these in a cast iron frying pan! I’ve made them both ways and I can’t really tell a difference. In fact, the cast iron ones got a bit burnt because the oil got so hot. I’ve found that I’ve had to turn the heat down a smidge after the first ten or so fritters are made because the oil starts smoking. Just pay attention unless you like burnt fritters!

I’m telling you, this recipe doesn’t sound like much, but they are SO GOOD. I’ve wanted to add chopped jalapenos to the batter, but David likes them just the way they are. They are fabulous with jalapeno sauce or topped with a bit of butter. The thing that I love about them, besides how freaking good they are, is that you could literally make them for any meal. David’s dad said they would be good just to have in the house to munch on and he’s right. They’re great with bacon or eggs in the morning, a bit of ham for lunch and chicken or a big pot of stew in the evening. They’re incredibly versatile and they’re filling. You will not be hungry for long after eating these.

I wondered tonight while I was cooking them if that’s why Great Granny Cameron made them. I wonder if she was trying to think up something to feed her kids that would keep them full and satisfied and also be easy on her pantry. I imagine her whipping these up and feeling grateful that she could feed her family with something so simple and good.

Go make them, y’all. Great Granny Cameron would be proud of you. And if she, a woman with nine mouths to feed, could work all night long and still clean her house, get her kids off to school in clean clothes and make corn fritters for dinner?

Then dammit, we can finish our laundry.

Happy eating! Your man will so put a ring on it after these babies.

May 8

Introducing Baby Bryson! *confetti*

Now that I’m done letting go of my anger, may I introduce you to the most gorgeous baby in the entire world?

Fairytanglers, meet my brand-new nephew, Tory Bryson Darby!

Bryson
All photos taken by Amanda Blackburn! Locals, let me know if you want her info.

Come ON. Is he not the most delicious hunk of a baby you’ve ever seen?

You can call him Bryson, BryceCube (Thanks, Auntie Mo!), BryBear (Thanks, Grandmummy!) or BEST BABY EVER. He was named after his Uncle Tory, Ashley’s older brother, who probably gave him thousands of kisses before he left Heaven to be with all of us here in his mama’s arms.

He finally arrived at 12:26am, May 3rd. He weighed 7lbs, 15oz and was 20 inches long. As Mary Poppins would say, “Practically perfect in every way.”

Sleeping Bryson

I, unfortunately, wasn’t there when he was born. I stayed nearly all day Thursday, but had to leave around 3:00 to pick up my own babies and bring them home. When I left, Ashley was at 6cm and they figured she would be pushing in a few hours. By 8:00, she hadn’t progressed anymore and the doctors gave her until 10:00 that night to make some progress or else a c-section would happen. By 11? My brother was pulling on scrubs and Ashley was getting prepped for surgery.

That was one of those moments where I wished with all of my might that I could be there. My parents, along with my sister and Granny, plus Ashley’s parents, were all there waiting for the news. I always imagined I’d be right there with them, waiting to see my sweet nephew wheeled into the nursery, but it didn’t work that way. Instead, I was in the bed when my family started blowing up my phone. I woke up after about the sixth call and saw a voicemail from my sister. All she says is “Hey! Just calling to tell you that Bryson is HERE! *click*” and man, oh man. It was like Christmas.

He’s here. My nephew is FINALLY here. It seems like Ashley has been pregnant forEVER and all the months of rifling through baby clothes, peeking my head into his nursery and praying for him at night has been a lifetime. And now? Now he’s here with his little starfish hands, his deep blue eyes and looking exactly like my brother did as a baby.

Baseball Baby!

When I was younger, I used to pray that I would have a baby that looked exactly like my little brother did. While my sister and I came out with dark brown hair and dark eyes (mine are green, Jamie’s are brown), Tyler was born with the blondest hair possible and gorgeous blue eyes. He was chunky in that lovely baby way, with dimpled knees and elbows and little fat thighs. He had a perfect baby smile and looked really scrumptious in a yellow, terrycloth sleeper.

baby photos from shower
Baby pictures of Tyler and Ashley from Bryson’s baby shower back in March! See?! Perfect baby specimen!

I was in LOVE with my baby brother and the two of us became best friends. Granddad called us “double trouble”, which is an apt description, but I really don’t think we were all that mischievous together. We were just ALWAYS teamed up. We loved to play Legos together and build entire cities on Granny’s coffee table and, one summer, we built a “milkshake” stand and typed up menus to sell cookies and drinks in the front yard. To this day, I still tell Tyler everything and he is one of the first five people I call with good or bad news. He has been through everything with me, has been my protector when too many boys have broken my heart and has always, always supported me, no matter what.

IT IS SO DUSTY IN HERE, WHY ARE MY EYES ALL WATERY.

And for him to be a daddy now? Oh, you guys. He’s going to be the very best daddy ever. He is going to be patient and kind and loving. He is going to be that dad with a video camera permanently attached to his hand, that dad that’s going to bust his ass at work so he can take Bryson to meet Mickey Mouse. He’s going to be a lot like OUR dad and man, Bryson has no idea how lucky he is.

I still can’t believe my brother’s a dad. Just reading that gives me chills. I am so damn proud of him, for everything he’s done and is going to do. He and Ashley are going to be wonderful parents and the two of them are MADE for each other. They balance each other out and are both already head over heels in love with Bryson. They are so, so good for each other and so, so good for the rest of us.

Darbys!

Especially because they’ve given us all this amazing gift.

Oh sweet Bryson. If I could have only one wish for you, I wish that you will always know how very much you are loved. I hope and pray that, no matter what demons you might face and no matter what fears you might have, you will always know that you are the light in your parents’ lives. You are their reason for everything, their entire WORLD and you still have all of us, your grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins, waiting with extra buckets of love. I wish you so much happiness, baby boy, and pray that you will always know how how worthy of our love you are. Because let me tell you something, BryBry… we love GOOD. Our family is known for loving each other like our lives depended on it because guess what? They do. Without each other, we are all nothing and baby, now that you’re here? Oh we can’t be beat.

You deserve ALL of our love, little B. All of our love and so much more. The world has so much to give you and show you and I just know that you have even more to share. We’re all right here, just waiting to see what you can do. No pressure! Being you is all you have to do.

Welcome to the world, Bryson.

Oh, the places you’ll go.

(Like right into Auntie Sam’s arms, LET ME SMOOCH THOSE CHEEKS.)

Tory Bryson Darby

May 7

Dear You (and You, You and You: Stop Judging Other Parents)

Dear You,

There are a million of you. A billion of you who judge other parents all day long and I am sick and tired of it. I’m tired of people I know being afraid to post anything on their Facebook because you might come back with a comment about their choices. I’m tired of people hiding McDonald’s bags in their car because they know that if you see them, they’ll be lectured on how they’re sending their child to an early SUPER-SIZED grave. I’m tired of seeing photos of gorgeous, chunky babies all over the internet and reading your comments about vaccinations and homemade baby food and formula. Can’t you just say “My goodness, what a gorgeous baby?” and leave your opinions to yourself?

Of course not. You think you’re doing these parents a “favor”, right? Maybe this girl, who has been to the doctor a thousand times over the course of nine months, has no idea that breastfeeding is more beneficial to the baby! Maybe this girl with the bottle of formula, this girl who is scared SHITLESS about becoming a mom and this girl who is TERRIFIED that she could love someone as much as she loves her baby, really needs your help! Maybe this girl, who is feeding her child, really just needs your input on how she’s doing it wrong!

Or! Maybe you just need to keep your mouth shut.

If these parents are feeding their babies, cleaning their babies, and loving their babies with every thing they have, then you need to shut the hell up.

Don’t tell them what they should feed their baby. Don’t tell them you have a “right” to make sure they’re giving their baby “the best there is.” You have no idea what their life is like. You have no idea why they’ve chosen to feed their babies formula and GUESS WHAT: YOU DON’T HAVE TO KNOW WHY. It is none of your damn business. Keep your nosy ass out of it. If they have questions about breastfeeding, trust that they will ask. If they really want to do it and have concerns or worries, trust that they will look into it on their own. This is not your baby, these are not your breasts. Shut up.

If a baby’s in danger? I believe that you have a right to say something, but there is a NICE way to say it. Car seat straps too loose on a newborn? Yes. Please step in. But don’t say “You’ve got those straps all wrong, your baby’s probably going to die. I am so sick of seeing this.” Say, “Hey, just in case you didn’t know, the straps should be a bit tighter on his chest, okay? Just want to keep him safe! He’s so cute!”

I’ve had family members tell me that my kids’ car seats weren’t 100% perfect and you know what? She said it in a way that was HELPFUL. It came from a place of concern, not a place of judgement or superiority. I didn’t know I was doing it wrong and having her step in and say something made me realize. There are NICE ways to do it, people. Ways that parents appreciate.

Phew.

And I’m sorry if you’re really trying to help and feel like I’m attacking you. I don’t want to attack you. I just want you to understand how hard it is to hear and see and read someone publicly call out another’s parenting style. I’m tired of seeing people I love and admire afraid to post a picture of their baby with a bottle because they know the comments will start. I’m tired of not wanting to talk about my future pregnancies because I may have a different birth plan than you. I’m tired of mamas and daddies feeling inferior and worthless because of something YOU said.

I know that YOU want respect for your choices. I know that you might be judged, too. But guess what? I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU DO. That’s why I want you to stop caring about what others do. You want to breastfeed your son until he’s five? Hey, knock yourself out! You want to co-sleep with your twins? Go for it! You want to go back to work when your daughter’s born and hire a nanny? Get it, girl!

But don’t judge that mom who gives her baby formula or lets him “cry-it-out” or quits her corporate job to stay home with her babies. It’s not your place. Give EVERY parent the respect he/she deserves, the same respect YOU deserve.

Parents are already sensitive enough thanks to all of the “experts” telling them what to do and what not to do. They don’t need your help.

Is the baby healthy? Happy? Loved?

Good! That’s wonderful!

And it’s all you need to know.

Sincerely,
Grumpy Lady Who’s Tired of Your BullShit

May 2

Waiting

Sitting in a freezing hospital room, waiting on your nephew to be born and listening to your sister-in-law cry in pain really isn’t all that fun… until they give her drugs.

Quotes From My Sister-in-law On Drugs (A Novella):

“Oooh… this stuff ’bout to knock me OUT. It’s okay though… I’ll be back.”

“I wish y’all could see… what I see… when I close my eyes…”

“It’s like a cement wall, like on Mario or something? With something popping out of it? And colors, too. Orange and green. …that’s what I see. *whispering* yeahhhhh.”

“Okay… okay, this contraction hurts… I’m okay! I’m okay! I’m great! …no, no I’m not great. This hurts.”

—–

It’s funny now, but hoo boy earlier it was not. I don’t want to tell all of Ashley’s lady parts business, but she was having a really difficult time with her contractions earlier. She’s set up to be induced in about 2.5 hours if she hasn’t progressed enough on her own, so I guess we’ll see! I’m spending the night at the hospital with my mom and brother, anxiously awaiting this sweet baby boy’s arrival. It feels like forever ago that we found out she was pregnant. I just can’t believe he’s finally going to BE here. I can’t believe my baby brother is going to be a daddy! I can’t believe our family’s going to grow and that, for the first time ever, my siblings and I are no longer “the kids”. It’s all about the new generation now.

my sweet nephew's crib

Oh sweet Bryson, come on. The world is just waiting to know you, but your family is waiting to adore you. We love you already!

Apr 30

On Mother’s Day and Being a Stepmom

So, I’m not normally a fan of many stepmom “support” websites or blogs because, in general, they usually make me angry. Most of them are full of criticisms from the readers, snarky blog posts about “being the bigger person” and lots of lists like “How to Deal With The Biomom” and “Knowing Your Place as a Stepmom”.

I don’t need that stuff kind of clogging up my brain, you know?

I know my situation is a lot different than some stepmoms. I know not everybody is appreciated by their kids’ mom and I know not everyone has a good relationship with their stepkids, but these stepmom “support” groups do a lot of the damage. Of course people aren’t going to work hard to get along with their stepkids’ mom when every single article is about “how to deal with biomom taking all of your husband’s money”, etc. There’s got to be a better way to address tough issues is all I’m saying. If someone’s having trouble dealing with their teenage son, they don’t want to read blog posts entitled “10 Reasons Why Your Son is a Total Douchebag”, right? They want to read things like “How to Communicate With Your Fourteen Year Old”. Positivity breeds positivity.

So today, I noticed on one of these stepmom blogs, there is this whole big to-do for us stepmoms who “have to deal with the MOTHER of all holidays”. Apparently, lots of stepmoms out there really struggle with the “second Sunday in May” and need some advice on how to get over it.

Am I the only one totally confused by this?

I’m a stepmom. I love my stepchildren like I birthed them. I take them to school, the park, the library. I cook their favorite meals, pack their lunches, pour their milk. I clean their room, fold their clothes, find their shoes. I hug them, kiss them, scratch their backs until they fall asleep. I’m a mother figure for them. I am, for all intents and purposes, a mom.

But it does not bother me in the SLIGHTEST that I’m not “celebrated” on Mother’s Day.

Look, I’m not their mama. And, while we’re on this topic, I truly hate the term “bio-mom”. I know people use it when talking about stepmoms, but it’s stupid. I’m the stepmom. She’s the MOM. There’s no need to differentiate! The only time bio-mom should be used is when she is either a) not in the picture and therefore you are the SOLE provider of all things “mom” and b) in adoption circumstances. End of discussion. I do not expect my kids to make me cards and pick me flowers for Mother’s Day. I don’t expect the day to be SPLIT between their MOM and me.

Maybe it’s different for you. Maybe I truly am the luckiest of all the stepmoms because I don’t feel unappreciated. My kids pluck purple weeds nearly every day and bring them inside to me. They are constantly making me little cards and drawings. My stepdaughter gives me scraps of paper every weekend that say “I love you Sam the most”. She draws pictures of her family and those pictures include her mom, her dad, me, her stepdad and all of her siblings. My stepson tells me he misses me, thanks me for pouring his milk, tells me I’m the “bestest”. My stepkids’ MOM tells me she appreciates me, thanks me for loving her kids the way I do.

Chloe's drawing

I don’t need a day to celebrate that.

I’m sorry if you’re the stepmom everyone talks about; the stepmom that never gets any recognition, that is ignored during pick-ups and drop-offs. I’m sorry if your stepchildren never tell you thank you or that they love you or that you’re the bestest. I’m sorry if your husband doesn’t think of you as a parent, doesn’t tell you how much he loves you for loving his kids. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.

But none of that has anything to do with being upset over Mother’s Day. If you’re depending on scribbled pieces of construction paper to prove your worth, you need to take a good, long walk and reevaluate some things. If you find yourself getting angry when your stepkids’ mom posts pictures of the scrambled eggs with hunks of shell her children made for her on Facebook, you need a time out. If you find yourself looking up articles on how to deal with the “mother of all holidays”, I think you should read this paragraph instead:

You are important. You are worthy of love and recognition and appreciation. We all know we should be thankful for our moms ALL the time, not just on Mother’s Day and the same goes for you. If you’re not getting the thanks you deserve, speak up. Tell your husband you feel unappreciated. If he doesn’t care, that’s a problem. Don’t blame your stepkids or their mom for how you feel. It’s not always their fault. Think about how much effort you’re putting in, how much positive energy you’re exerting. Don’t let yourself get down over a Hallmark holiday. It’s really not that big of a deal. You don’t need supermarket carnations to feel good about yourself, just know that you are important. Really, really important.

Would it make my day if my stepchildren drew me a “Happy Mother’s Day” card? Of course it would (That is not a hint, Kara, I swear.), but I don’t expect it. I’m not their mama. That day is about her, just like “Father’s Day” is about my husband and the kids. Should we have the kids tell their stepdad, “Happy Father’s Day”? Sure! Maybe we will. The thing is, it doesn’t matter. The day is not about making sure everyone’s okay and no one’s feelings are hurt. The day is about hastily-made popsicle crafts and extra hugs and “I appreciate you”s for the moms and dads.

If you’re a stepmom (And NOT the sole provider! If you’re THE mom in your child’s life, then this really doesn’t apply to you, but if you’re like me and you get to share this parenthood, keep reading) and you feel like you deserve some part of Mother’s Day, I’m sorry to say this, but I think you’re taking this role of yours the wrong way. This job, this LIFE of being a stepmom is not about getting all of the “mom rewards”. We don’t get Mother’s Day noodle projects from school and we’re not first in line for “Mommy & Me” sleepovers. I am not a stepmom so that I can weasel my way into everything my stepkids’ mom has already earned. I’m a stepmom because I married a man with children. I’m a MOM because I would take a bullet for these kids and I love them more than anyone else in this entire world. That should be enough for you. No one said this was going to be easy. In fact, most people probably told you this was going to be hard as hell and the most “thankless job” ever. They were kind of right. This isn’t about your ego or your precious feelings, I’m sorry. This is about getting to love your husband’s kids so fiercely, that it doesn’t even occur to you on Mother’s Day to be upset. This is about knowing your own worth without expecting someone to point it out to you.

And I know I’m lucky that my kids love me the way they do. I know that, sadly, not everyone gets to have my experience. Maybe that’s why I don’t need a fuss made over me, because I already know how much they care. And maybe I don’t need a fuss made over me because I’m not their mama. Let’s start a new holiday, shall we? The “Happy You’re-Kinda-Like-A-Mama Day”! Everyone gets hugs and kisses and “thank you”s and “I love you”s. Let’s celebrate it every day, okay? I’ll go first:

Thank you, stepmama, for all you do. You are wonderful.

Apr 29

Building a Fence Around Our Dream

A few months ago, David and I walked down the street and took the kids horseback riding.

I KNOW. Green Acres!

It was his uncle’s house and he and his wife have two horses, Dixie and Thunder. Thunder is actually a wild horse, one that David’s uncle bought from one of those “mustang rescue groups” out in the midwest. He is beautiful, but doesn’t trust a soul unless you’ve got a big ol’ apple in your hands. I don’t think anyone’s tried to ride him in years, especially since he threw David’s uncle off of him the last time.

Thunder

The other horse, Dixie, is at least thirty years old (THIRTY) and ol’ gal is tired. She’s the only one the kids (or anybody else) can ride and when we put Trey on her, she stood there for a second, let David lead her for a few steps and then halted. She was all “oh hell no, that’s enough”.

The kids are, naturally, in love with both of them. Every time we drive down the street or go outside, they holler for them. “THERE’S DIXIE! THERE SHE IS!” Trey will scream from the backseat. I have to admit, even after almost five months of living out here in the country, it doesn’t get old to see two big animals like that just hanging out in the next field over.

Especially now that they’re coming to live with us.

Apparently they’ve been talking about this for years, but no one’s ever made the motion to get it started. David’s uncle owns the horses, but his pasture hasn’t been growing grass very well. He’s spending a fortune on hay and feed and the horses are basically kicking up dirt at this point. At our house, we have about fourteen acres total, but most of them are out in the woods with a creek and lots of trees. The other six or so? Are full of green, green grass and perfect for some hungry horses.

So, about a month or so ago, David and his dad started building a fence to go around our property.

David drilling post holes

I have to admit, at first, I was not very excited about the idea. For one thing, it’s a barbed wire fence which just screamed “redneck” and “trashy looking” to me. Plus, they were telling me the posts were going to be METAL instead of wood and then I was all upset. I mean, one of my favorite things about our house and property is how OPEN it is, how our house sits in the middle of a giant field.

home

But, once the fence work was up and once we all compromised on how big of a front and back yard to leave (I still wanted enough room for the kids to play baseball and have picnics without stepping in horse poop), I discovered that I totally love the hell out of our fence.

fence progress

driveway

I didn’t expect it to, but it’s almost made our house look bigger and cozier at the same time! I told David that it feels like our house is protected now, like there’s this fence that goes around and kind of hugs us. Does that make sense or do I sound like a total hippie? WHATEVER. I love the way it lines the driveway, where we plan to plant crepe myrtles and put my Granny’s concrete picnic table and benches. I love the way it actually breaks up our yard and gives me more freedom to do landscaping outside of the fence without looking like it just got cut off halfway through the yard.

Plus, the idea of having horses out here is a lifelong dream of both David AND the kids. The kids are over the moon about it, especially because they can ride Dixie. David had horses growing up and I know it’s just in his blood to ride one and be around them (He says his favorite smell ever is when a horse is sweating from a day out riding and it mixes in with the leather on the saddle. Hello, country boy!). His uncle told us that a guy up the road is selling a beautiful horse for $100 and I could SEE the wheels turning in David’s head from ten feet away. I fully expected to wake up yesterday morning to a horse tied up in the front yard.

The fence should be done in a few more weeks and then Dixie and Thunder will come stay with us! While they’re here, David’s uncle is going to plant winter grass seed in his pasture and then during the cold months, Dixie and Thunder will go back home to even more grass while ours replenishes.

I told my friend Emily about it and she said “it’s like a childhood dream/fantasy and your kids have it” which made me all weepy and giddy and stuff. Because it so is. I told David on Saturday, as we were watering my new vegetable garden (!!!! more on that later!), that I feel like our yard and house is going to be like a fairytale. We’re going to have horses, we have woods to romp through and a creek to swim in, we have my clothesline full of sheets to hide behind, a vegetable garden to pull fresh tomatoes from and still plenty of room for a swing set, baseball games and bike riding. He nodded. “It’s the American dream, baby.”

And we’re living every minute of it.

I didn’t think this is what I wanted, but then I didn’t really know what I wanted, did I? And now that I have this? All of this? An incredible husband, amazing children, beautiful home big enough for our family and little things surrounding us that make me so happy? It’s like I knew this was it all along… my dream come true.

Sigh.

So! De-lurk, y’all. Tell me, what’s your dream? Is it coming true yet? (Because I promise you, it will.)

Apr 24

V. Exciting Things

If I had a bottle of champagne right now, I would totally bust it open because I have V. EXCITING NEWS.

(I lie. I would not open a bottle of champagne right now. One, I’m not really a huge fan of champagne. Two, I rarely drink just to drink (especially alone!) and three, damn y’all it’s barely 9am. Can we finish our coffee first, boozers? SHEESH.)

Starting TOMORROW morning, I will have my very own column called “Not Cinderella’s Stepmom” over at Work It, Mom! WEEEEEEEE!!

Guys, I can not tell you how excited I am about this. I have been reading Work It, Mom! for years. Like, before I ever met David and had children to call my own. See, I’ve been “online journaling” since I was fourteen, but it wasn’t until I was 19 or so (2007-2008? Holy mackerel) that I realized there was this whole “blogging community” thing out there! I kind of thought the only people who had online journals were people like me and my friends that had domains like “ultra-icing.net” (that one was mine) and we spent our weekends designing layouts in Paint Shop Pro and writing blogs about how unfair that algebra test was, you know? So when I stumbled into this Brave New World, I started reading some of the really popular blogs like Dutch Blitz and All & Sundry. I didn’t have a husband, I didn’t have children, but I did love reading their stories. I think I backtracked and read every single entry on every single blog like the good little obsessed reader I am.

So imagine the sheer joy I felt when I emailed Work It, Mom! asking if I could talk to them about a column and Angella from Dutch Blitz messaged me back.

You guys. FAN GIRL MOMENT.

Let’s not even get me started on when Linda from All & Sundry liked a comment I made in the Work It, Mom! Facebook group, okay?

I’ll stop embarrassing myself now. Here’s the deal: I’ll be writing over at Work It, Mom! every Thursday and I would love it if you would join me. Especially YOU. I know who you are. You Googled “invisible stepmom” and landed at my blog. I want to give you a hug because I know that feeling and then I want to ask you to step over to Work It, Mom! tomorrow. I’m going to try and bring in an audience there, an audience of stepmoms and moms alike that just want to offer support to each other. No criticisms, no negativity, just lots of “I’ve been there, too” and “Here’s what might help…” comments. I really hope you’ll love it.

So! There’s that!

(Oh who the hell am I kidding, it’s more like THERE’S THAT OMG AHHHH!!! My own column?! I’ve been daydreaming about this for a long, long time and ever since I became a stepmama, it’s become this very intense desire. We need a positive voice for the stepmom community and the fact that it gets to be me? That I’m the one chosen to do it? Oh it makes my heart all fluttery. I am in love with my new career, you guys. IN LOVE.)

And while we’re talking about things that make us all giddy and excited and DREAMS COMING TRUE, I’m going to tell you that one of my oldest friends is trying to become Mr. John Stamos today and we could really use your good vibes.

See, last night, I was on Instagram and John Stamos posted a picture of him at Piedmont Park in Atlanta. Piedmont Park is like half a mile away from Emily’s apartment. I immediately texted her and told her to grab her dog, Hans, take him on a walk and run into John Stamos. She didn’t, but we did hatch a plan! She’s pretty sure he’s staying in a hotel about two blocks from her apartment, the same hotel she is having drinks in tonight. I told her to make sure she waited by the door for him to come out/come in, so that she could faint right in front of him. I know feminism is all the rage now, but you guys, there’s nothing a little damsel in distress can’t do.

She’s really only got one shot at this, so cross your fingers would you? My kids could really benefit from their very own Uncle Jesse.

HAVE MERCY.

Apr 22

Save Our Planet (With Some Happy Little Things)

Thank you thank you thank you for all of your sweet comments, emails and Facebook messages about our sweet Penny. I can’t tell you how much it meant to us to have all of you wishing good thoughts as we told the kids and keeping all of us in your prayers. There are days when my gratefulness for all of you bubbles up in my chest like a balloon and today is one of those days. Thank you for reading, thank you for being here.

AHEM! Now. *clap clap* On to other things that do not make me all weepy and drunk on thankfulness (*slurring* I just… I just love you guys SOOOOOOO much, y’know? Just SOOOO much and you mean soooo much to me and HEY IS THAT KARAOKE?!)…

Today is Earth Day! (I forgot to turn the CAPS Lock off for a second and it was very in your face there: TODAY IS EARTH DAY ALL HAIL PLANET EARTH) Or as I like to call it, Earf Day. Because I am nothing if not a nut who likes funny voices.

To celebrate this glorious day of praising our sweet planet, with its cotton candy clouds and its tendency to make my impatiens grow ten feet over night, I wanted to talk to you about being green, being thrifty and how all of that really means being cheap. Because let me tell you a little somethin’ somethin’… everything that I do in our household and lives that ends up being good for our planet is not always done with Mother Earth in mind, but more like my wallet and the tiny moths that live in the corners. You see, often times things that are “cheap” or “thrifty” or “less expensive” are also “thrifty” and “green” and “recycling”. These things, we can all agree, are fabulous for our big ol’ globe.

Like, my clothesline! My clothesline is probably my favorite thing at our house and here are the reasons why I wanted a clothesline:

1. I like the way they look with sheets hanging out in the sunshine.
2. I like the sounds of those same sheets flapping in the wind.
3. The smellllll. I can not get over the smell of freshly laundered sheets that have been warmed by the sun.
4. Did you know your dryer is responsible for 10% of your electricity bill? That’s just something I read, but hey: I am all for saving money on my power bill.

And do you know what saving money on my power bill means? That I’m conserving energy, thereby saving precious fossil fuels. Not something I was going for when I made my clothesline, but is a pretty awesome perk.

Other “feel good thing” that I do for myself that also helps out Motha’ Natua’? Saying no to paper towels. I’ve decided to stop using paper towels because *DUN DUN DUNNNN* those damn things are EXPENSIVE. I’m embarrassed to admit this, but we were going through about three rolls a week which is about $6 a pack at my store. $6 a week is $312 which could buy me a LOT of classic sitcom seasons. Instead, I bought a six pack of Scotch-Brite reusable rags for less than $2. Those babies clean EVERYTHING and can be washed and hung to dry to use the next day. The best part is, they’ve lasted me over a week already and I’ve only used two of the rags, one for polishing and one for windows. In the kitchen, I put dishtowels EVERYWHERE: hanging from the oven, hanging from the dishwasher, one in my back pocket while cooking/baking. Having a dishtowel nearby to dry my hands or mop up a spill stops me from reaching for a paper towel. Not only am I saving money (and then spending on cute dishtowels because HELLO), I’m saving trees. WITH OUR POWERS COMBINED, WE ARE CAPTAIN PLANET.

And lately? I’ve been really into “reusing” things that would otherwise end up in the garbage. Like when we moved into our home, there was a huge cast iron tub just sitting in the backyard. After a little cajoling from me and a little heavy labor from my husband (that tub is heavy as hell), I had a beautiful new flower bed.

tub full of flowers

Saved a tub out of the dumpster and planted some greenery. WHERE IS MY SAVING THE EARTH BADGE?

So! With all that said, I want you to know that I’m not a hippie. Well… okay, maybe I am, BUT, I do not do these things to be all “green”. I don’t think about recycling as much as I should and I know there’s been a time or two when I threw away some plastic Tupperware because the week old spaghetti was just too much for me to try and clean, but for the most part? I do okay by our planet by just being selfish and doing happy little things for me like hanging laundry on the line, reusing cool old tubs and stimulating the economy by buying dish towels in bulk (Especially seasonal ones!).

Want a little somethin’ somethin’ that will make you happy, brighten your life AND help out our planet?

Keep some of the tin cans from your household: soups, veggies, fruit cocktails, broths, sauces, etc. Rinse them out really well and then drill a few holes in the bottom of the can (OR, if you don’t have a drill, carefully poke holes through the can with a nail and hammer). Depending on the size of your can, you may only need one or two! Fill with soil and plant a flower in there! I bought six packs of annuals for my yard at Wal*Mart for $1.68 a pack and you only need one flower per can!

tin can flowers = happy Sunday

Water the flower well and then prop your feet up with a book!

Mine are sitting on my deck, so I didn’t decorate the cans, but ribbon, lace, twine or scraps of fabric would look darling around the center of them! Let your kids make their own (Um, make sure YOU do the drilling) with paints, stickers, etc. and tell them about how happy they’ve made our sweet Mama Earth.

They’ll probably be freaked out that she’s like a tangible thing now. Tell them that sometimes, if Mother Earth needs to give them a talking to, she’ll just crack the ground open and gobble them up for a bit. Then ask them to clean up their room before Mother Earth gets there. They’ll listen.

Happy Earf Day, you guys! Go plant some flowers or hang your sheets on the line! Oh happy day.

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