urbanstepmom.com

It feels like I have not put pen to paper in a very long time. My usual ritual was up at 5 or 5:30, coffee, computer, ahhh, ease into the day. I can’t remember the last time I did that, or saw 5am for that matter. In fact I lost most of my otherwise disciplined routines this summer.

However, my summer has far surpassed my expectations for fun. I dove off a lot of boats into lakes and oceans, drank a lot of red wine and “skinny bitches” (vodka soda), I socialized a lot, swam a lot, played a bit of tennis and quite a bit of golf. It felt like I was in one on going beer commercial. I continued to work at my job but at a very low productivity level.

 As I was reflecting back on the last six weeks, it reminded me of my life ten years ago. It was a lot of fun, very little responsibility and all about me. The way the schedules went this summer, it seemed like we rarely had the kids. They went away for two weeks with their mom, were in some day camps and otherwise, not a part of my normal daily routine.

I’ve realized that now, after what might be six weeks of adult fun, I am exhausted. I also, surprisingly, miss the kids. More so, I miss what the kids bring to my life, which other than a lot of silly and wonderful kid-humor, they ground me.  And that is what I have been missing this summer. I do not feel  grounded.

I didn’t have to be home for dinner every night. I didn’t have to go grocery shopping every day. I didn’t have to hang out at an ice rink all weekend. I didn’t have to tuck any one in at night, read to anyone or snuggle anyone. And I miss it.

The truth is, I was single for a long time (longer than most let’s just say) and I had more than my fair share of good “beer-commercial” times. What my life has now that it didn’t have then, was a richness and a depth that responsibility brings. I not only have twin boys to take care of but I have a husband, a dog and two cats. I have a big garden and a lot of household chores. Usually I complain about how overwhelmed I am by all of these demands, but at this moment I see that they are gifts and they keep me grounded. They remind me of what is important, and that is family.

While they were gone I found myself obsessing about the pounds I needed to shed to get bikini ready (an unlikely expectation at 47 years old) or new outfits to wear to big parties, or new hair styles to try out. I wasted a lot of time on facebook and read a lot of trashy magazines. 

Now, all that is fun and I obviously needed a mindless break, but it doesn’t compare to watching their reaction when the cat brings a mouse into the house, or the dog rolls in something stinky or just watching TV with them or jumping in the lake with them. They make all the otherwise mundane  things like walking the dog or grocery shopping fun. They have guaranteed interesting conversation and perspectives on life. 

I find this interesting, because every so often (usually on a dreary  Winter night) when I am fiendishly mushing ground round into hamburger patties after work, I catch myself yearning for my old life. And that occurs to me now as such a waste of an opportunity. I do not want my old life back, I want to embrace this life, appreciate these gifts and accept that it is the best life for me. Being needed to make dinner is better than being wanted at a big party.

I have had a great summer, foot loose and fancy free as they say, and now I am ready to go back to my real life. Back to my routines, back to my chores, back to feeding my family and creating a warm, happy home, back to snuggling them and tucking them in.

I guess you could say this is one of the benefits of being an Urban Stepmom, you can choose who you want to play with,  your adult friends, or your little friends. How many full time moms wouldn’t want six weeks of boating, beer and barbecues?  We are lucky that we have it all in a sense. As Stepmoms in general we spend so much time complaining about our lives, if only we could accept it and appreciate how lucky we are that our world is so diverse and interesting.

One of my stepsons came home the other day from school and said, “Lis, we’re doing a Fractured Fairy Tale at school, do you want to come and see it?”

A what? 

“A Fractured Fairy Tale”, he said, “is loosely based on the Fairy Tale but there is a lot of humor, some new characters, different perspectives and there are unexpected surprises.” He said they are calling it, “Cinderella Outgrows Her Glass Slipper.” I couldn’t wait to see it!

I wrongly assumed that this grade four class had made up the term “Fractured Fairy Tale.”  It turns out, there are books and scripts galore out there, they are part of the school curriculum now and the best thing is children are encouraged to write their own.

My husband and I settled into our (very little) seats as three full classes came pouring into my stepson’s classroom and sat at our feet. Everyone was full of anticipation to see the play.

The basic play was the same, but Cinderella life’s dream was to become a Veterinarian, not to marry the Prince, despite the intentions of the Magic Fairies and the Prince himself. There also seemed to be some foreshadowing for her to become a major Shoe Mogul if she chose that path. (a story line I was quite interested in).

I loved Cinderella. She was in charge of her destiny. She didn’t mind the grunt work she had to do for her evil step sisters because she had a dream. In her spare time she made shoes to make money to pursue her passion of becoming a Veterinarian. Turns out she had lots of talent and ambition.

I couldn’t help but thinking, isn’t this just the most modern, exciting creative, realistic way of going into life?  Write your own script for your life, pursue your dreams even if others have different plans for you, work hard, be resourceful, be grateful and be determined. Don’t let go of your dream. Cinderella knew that the expectation of the Fairy Godmothers was for her was to marry the Prince. And the expectation of her step sisters was for her to dote on them for the rest of time. But Cinderella was focused on what she knew to be true for herself.

I love this because there are so many expectations for kids and for women in general. I believe there is still the expectation that women will get married and have kids and if she doesn’t in reasonable time, there is something wrong with her. Well, by the time Cinderella gets married, if she does, she will be very successful, and who knows the Prince may have left his first wife and have a couple of kids in tow and may now look appealing to Cinderella.

Life is indeed very fractured most of the time. Rarely is it whole, and tidy and predictable. But it is up to us to be whole as an individual, to know ourselves, to know our dreams and to pursue them, even if they don’t fit into what society or other people expect of us. It isn’t to say that pursuing our dreams will be easy and without obstacles, but there is so much satisfaction and joy in a life when you know you are true to yourself.

I was grateful, there was no evil step mother in the script, and the evil step sisters were actually quite adorable albeit spoilt.

I was extremely proud of Jacob’s teacher for choosing this play with such a strong message. I applaud her!

Afterwards, the kids took questions from the audience and one mom behind me asked, “Does Cinderella ever marry, or does she just become a career woman?” The kids were stumped and the question was met with several seconds of silence. “Uh, she may marry in the future, but right now she is focusing on her career,” said one child, at which point I wanted to jump out of my seat and clap and yell, “Bravo!! Bravo!!” The kids got the message. Too bad for the mom behind me…

I often hear from the urban step mom that her girlfriends and close family members do not get it. We plan these pity parties and no one shows up. Or they show up and they want to drink the martinis but they are at a loss as to what to say when we started spewing our negative emotions about our home life. It used to be that we could call our girlfriends in any boy crisis and everyone would rally and offer hours of support and wine. Now, I’m afraid my dear, you have entered a realm that most people cannot comprehend.

And it isn’t their fault. If your friends are single, on some level what you talk about terrifies them and they retreat into a self protective shell. If your friends are mothers, well, most biological mothers simply have a wall that goes up when you discuss “your” kids. They can’t help but project, “what if another woman was taking care of my kids?”, and then things turn all ugly for them inside. They cannot be there for you. In their world, you do not have kids and they can’t help but secretly judge you for “pretending” that you do. 

But this doesn’t have to mean that you are on your own. You can still drink martinis with your friends, in fact I encourage it, but don’t expect them to jump on the band wagon and give you their full sympathetic attention. The fact is, that you are on your own to deal with life as an urban step mom, unless you know other women in your situation. And it is up to you to figure it out. This is a huge adjustment for us, but it also offers great learning and growing opportunities. There are not “how to be an urban step mom” books out there. There isn’t a right way, and there isn’t a wrong way. In fact, every way is different. That is good news because it means, you can make it whatever you want. You can create your life, your relationship with your man, his kids, his ex however you desire. It is all quite empowering really.

Now, back to your friends and family and those martinis. What I have found over years of needing to vent and blow and scream and shout, is that being an urban step mom is not my entire life. I have an exciting career, I have hobbies, dreams, goals and I have lots of friends. I have learned that it is wise for me to regularly walk away from the chaos that my home life can be, and continue to develop the rest of my life. When I return a few hours later, I am fresh, happy, re fueled and feeling groovy. 

 When I am with my friends and family now, I do not even necessarily discuss my home life. I do this for a few reasons. First, it is very important for me to have a life outside of my husband, his kids and his ex. It empowers me and I remember that I am a confident, fun loving, self sufficient human being. Second, my friends make me laugh and that is very healing all on its own. 

I meet so many urban step moms who are in the throes of overwhelm and frustration and emotional turmoil. And I was there for most of my five years in this step madness. But eventually things settle down. They either settle or you realize this is not for you, either way, you are ahead of the game for trying. And once they settle, you hope you still have your friends. You hope they still find you fun and pleasant to be around, and not consumed with the negativity that can come from dating or marrying a man with kids.

So even though they might not get it, continue to spend time with them. Go for long walks, go to movies, the theatre, take off for a girls weekend, and just try to not even bring up your man or his kids. I guarantee you will feel lighter, more like your old self, and you will have more fun.

One of the biggest complaints I hear about urban step moms is the duplicitous lives we lead. It is like our personality has split off and is out there living multiple, separate lives. In my case, I have a thriving career in an exciting industry that focuses on “show biz” and having fun. I have a lot of fun, I laugh hard every day from the antics of my coworkers. I make good money and would say I command a degree of respect from my peers due to my success and longevity in the business.

Then, after work, all hopped up on ego stroking and closing big deals, I jump into my SUV and slam my foot on the gas peddle to get myself to the grocery store, the drug store, the pet food store, the dry cleaner and the day care to get the kids before it closes. The boys don’t acknowledge me as I screetch into the daycare to pick them up. My hand is left hanging in the air as I wave to them and call their names with a big smile on my face. Some of the people that work there know me and smile sympathetically, others wonder if I am the aunt or their mum’s friend. The kids head in my direction without eye contact, grab their stuff and follow in the general direction of the car.

I get them home without conversation in the car that includes me, they go to their room and play games. I throw down bags of groceries, purse, coat, and get busy in the kitchen. My husband comes home, goes straight to see how the kids are, get changed into his comfortable clothes and flops down and reads the paper tired from his day. At this point, I often take a moment and ask myself, how the heck did I get here? Is this really my life?

Dinner is  miraculously served hot and nutritious on the table at 6:30 like some finish line in Amazing Race as I stand there calling “come and wash your hands” in my suit and high heels. How do I do it, I wonder as they all clammer to the table, famished and ready to eat. They are unaware of the great feat of someone like me, pulling off dinner on a regular basis. This is not my skill set. I close big deals, I help businesses grow, I help create images and branding for companies…I do not cook a mean spaghetti bolognaise, I do not know what kids like to eat, I do not naturally  keep up with the toilet roll and laundry detergent replacement.

So why do I feel that this is the expectation upon me? Is this my expectation that I am supposed to know how to polish silver and clean a tile floor? Or is it the expectation of my husband? Do all husbands have this expectation of their wives? Do all wives know how to do all this? How, in my mid forties do I not have the key to this secret world of domesticity? Did I miss a meeting?

Am I supposed to know what to say to a kid when he wakes up with a nightmare, or what to give him if he’s sick? Am I supposed to clean the kitchen to a spotless state after a meal with a smile on my face? Is it all supposed to be effortlessly efficient? I want to yell to the three of them “don’t you know what I do for a living?” but that is in another life, and I remind myself, it is not remotely useful in getting dinner on the table.

All of a sudden the week is over and the kids are with their mom for a week and I want to rebel. I want a life of no responsibilities again. I do not want to make dinner. I do not want to rush home to attend to the house’s endless demands. I want to work late, eat while standing in front of the fridge, hold the remote control and channel surf through reality TV Shows. I can’t forget that I have a husband though. And although he assumed the role of Super Dad last week while I assumed the role of Super Step Mom in some frantic, fast paced Adventure Game, now it is just he and I and I feel I need to be Super Wife and act all sexy and romantic. More expectations. 

When I was single, I used to think of myself as sexy and romantic but now I wonder how the heck I am supposed to pull that off? Where did she go? I may have flushed her accidentally down one of the toilets when I was on a cleaning frenzie, I’m not sure. But she does not seem to be living here with us at this time.

And so it goes, week on week off, eight hour shifts of different, separate lives. I’m not sure how full time working, full time moms do it, but maybe they get into a rhythm. Maybe if you actually birth the babies, you get some sort of rule book implanted in your brain that tells you how to run a house and keep a family fed and still be sexy and romantic. But for me, despite my expectations that I should know how to do all this stuff, and be happy doing it, I feel completely under qualified. And maybe, secretly all working moms feel  this way and they just don’t ever talk about it. Maybe we all have these expectations to be perfect women, maybe it isn’t just the urban step mom. Maybe no one knows what they are doing and we all feel like we are trying to be action heros in an Adventure Game. Maybe we all just want to stand in front of the fridge and eat whatever we want. Yes, the person that I am right now, in this life,  is going to go with that theory.

Did you ever see that movie Overboard with Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell? There are similarities between this movie and the life of the urban step mom. It is a story of a very rich, beautiful, glamorous (albeit bitchy) woman who falls overboard off her palatial yacht and is rescued by someone who worked for her and hated her. She did not treat this fellow well, so when he rescued her and she had no memory of who she was, he played a trick on her and said she was his wife. Her new life is a life of servitude taking care of him, his boys and the house. For the first time in her life she is doing laundry, cooking dinner, disciplining kids (who were told to be especially cruel to her) and putting up with her “husband’s” grouchiness and taking her for granted. On some unconscious level this life does not feel right to her, but she does it because he assures her she is his wife and these are her kids.

I have spent many a night by myself watching this movie almost in horror sympathizing with the feelings of this character. Sometimes you have to just sit there quietly with a glass of wine and wonder, how in the world did I get here? Did someone drug me or knock me out along the way? Of course this is not productive thinking, and obviously not true, you did pick this life, but you could not have known what was involved. How could you? Every marriage, every family and certainly every step family is different. No one can tell you it is going to be hard or how hard or hard for how long.

Eventually Goldie’s character started to accept that this was her life. She resisted less, became more involved in the kids lives and started to become loving towards her “husband”.  Even the kids who were in on the joke started to appreciate and bond with her. It was very confusing for everyone but the dust started to settle in the “family” and a normalcy started to develop. This is not at all unlike the process of the urban step mom. At first the change is so shocking, especially if you don’t have your own kids, and then, eventually you start to find the flow of the very not normal family. It takes a lot of patience, and a lot of adjusting expectations to adapt to this new life. 

I also liken being an urban step mom  to walking through a metaphorical fire. While you are in the throes of it it is hot, really hot, and it hurts and burns and you think you might not make it. On the other side of the fire though, you become someone else. Someone deeper, more loving, more compassionate, and understanding of humanity. You leave a lot behind on the other side. You let a lot of old garbage go. You have to if you are going to grow into the person that can manage the complexities of this situation. Leaving expectations behind is one of those things that makes you  a lighter person. If you can focus on knowing that if you let your old life go, you will have a lighter journey, you will be happier.

When Goldie’s character regained her memory she was furious at this man for putting her through this. She took some time away from the family (she went back drinking champagne on her yacht) and in the end decided she in fact wanted to be with them. Not that it was an easier life, but it was definitely more fulfilling and enriching. Mind you there wasn’t a mother in the picture, and he turned out to be a pretty helpful husband, but it is Hollywood after all. The message still stands that being an urban step mom is not the easiest choice, but if you let go of a lot of expectations about what life is supposed to be like, and accept what it is you might just wind up loving your new life.

Adjust expectations. This is probably the best advice anyone could give you as a new or struggling urban step mom. It is almost as if you have slipped into a parallel universe where everything you used to know and how to do is not longer applicable.

Take grocery shopping for instance. All my adult life, I managed my grocery buying with a basket slung over my forearm as I cruised through aisles quickly to grab the items I wanted to eat that night and maybe some breakfast. The first few times I was buying groceries for my husband and the boys I needed help at least three times. I needed help to get the money in and the large cart out, I needed  help with the placement of the large cart as I unloaded at the check out and I needed help getting it to stay in those little yellow rungs they now have to keep them from rolling away on you. Not only that but I felt completely overwhelmed trying to buy food for a week for a family. The thought that this takes, the menu planning, the lists, the trying to find it all (did you know they move the placement of food in the aisles on purpose??), was enough to make you want to order in three times a day. As well, I was trying to do this monstrous job after work at 5:30 or 6pm, exhausted, feet hurting and when the store is most crowded. Moms have done this for years and years and they flow through the aisles like a leaf in the gentle stream. For the urban step mom it feels like you’re a paper boat in a stormy squall.

Then there’s dinner. This was another massive event that changed in my life. I used to order sushi, pour a glass of wine and watch a little Entertainment Tonight. Now, I dash home,  stop for groceries (or now I’m a little more organized and I do a big shop on Sundays) and have to land a healthy hot meal by 6:30 on the table most nights. I used to have the expectation that after pulling off what I considered to be the completion of a task from Amazing Race, making dinner after work, we would all sit there, enjoy it, compliment the meal, make conversation and just enjoy each other’s company. Having dinner with your step family is not the same as having dinner with your friends. Rarely do I get complimented for starters, however their father does insist I get thanked. As for conversation, in the early days, it revolved around “three more bites, eat your vegetables, no desert unless you finish”. It evolved to “don’t talk with your mouth full” and “bring your fork to your mouth not the other way”. And now we are actually talking about all of our days. As for timing, six to ten minutes or so is usually the alloted time of actually sitting at the dinner table before bolting off to do something else. Time to cook and clean? One hour. Time to eat? Ten minutes. I was never very good at Math but that one did not compute.

Most of my expectations going into this relationship were completely unrealistic, but not all. Some things are worth fighting for. By the time the boys were 8 or 9, I decided the expectation that they would help me around the house and learn some manners was not unrealistic. Not that I was strict and not that the results were in any way instant, but finally I have the kids doing some chores and practicing some manners that would have Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music proud. The boys now set the table, clear the table, put their dishes in the dishwasher, change toilet rolls, feed the cats and take the dog out to pee. They  also, practice very good table manners and have even appreciated candlelight during a meal.

Expectations with my husband from the very beginning of our relationship had to change drastically. These men with kids are different from other men, I will tell you that. First of all, if they are worth their salt at all, the kids come first. Then, based on urgency and needs of the kids the ex usually falls second. Third, the guy’s gotta work to make ends meet for all these people he is responsible for. I hate to say it, but you, Miss Fabulous urban step mom, wind up falling somewhere in there, or after that based on what is happening in his life at that time. Now that’s a hard pill to swallow and a deal breaker for a lot of women trying to make this work. But it is the truth and you have to deal with it if you are going to be successful at this. The only way to manage it is to adjust your expectations. You just simply can’t expect to be treated the same way as by a guy who doesn’t have kids. They simply don’t have the time or the energy to let you know everything and to think of you and your feelings first all the time.

Given that you can accept this fact, the next step is to

a) pick your battles and

b) become an effective loving communicator.

The first caveat pertains to your self discipline and hopefully miraculously new found wisdom in which battles are worth fighting for and which are not. The results are what teach you quickly.

And the second is an excellent skill if you can learn how to do it. I personally struggled a lot with both of these. In the beginning, I pretty much fought over everything trying to gain some semblance of control over my life. And in my communication I was neither loving nor effective. It was something I had to learn over the years and get a lot of professional help with. It is something that is still a work in progress. Being emotional, negative, or a pain in the ass (my husband’s term) gets the urban step mom no where fast. Being calm, quiet, reasonable, rational, logical,  sensitive to his feelings and having a sense of humor positions her steadfast in the face of chaos.

Bottom line, if you are upset about something that he has done or isn’t happening for you, look first and see if you can adjust your expectations. If you can master this skill, you are on your way to your own personal happiness, and that of your life.