Oct. 9 of 31 Days

October 9th, In Which I Get Crazy Real About Being A Stepmom

I'm a stepmom. She'll be 15 next month, and as of the end of August, she now lives in CA with her mom and is going to high school out there.

She's one lost little girl, with no idea of who she is or where she wants to go, except that she knows she wants people to love her. But she wants them to love the GOOD her...not the real her. Not the her that needs healing. I think she'd like to forget about that her. But she can't. So she invents stories about what she's going through to tell her friends to garner pity. Her dad and I know The Real Her. She doesn't. I don't know who else does. I'm betting a lot of people in our church do. She's a pretty good stunt woman, but she's not that great an actress.

Before she left, we finally consented to letting her have a Facebook account. You have email, we said. You'll have your mom's phone to text, we said. You can get people's addresses and write them letters, we said. But we let her have an account anyway. (It was funny, actually -- we led her to believe we were saying no, but then, under the cloud of all those warnings why we didn't want her to have one, we said yes. She was ecstatic. And very shortly thereafter, I think she forgot all those reasons.)

Now she's . . . "enjoying her freedom," I call it. Her mom isn't as strict conservative as we are with rules. Her mom has said she's a Christian, but if you know Christians by their actions . . . well, I'm not judging, I'm just saying I wouldn't guess she is. And when we asked her mom to make sure she gets SL to church, she said, "well, I don't want to force her to go . . . " Thanks for nothing.

SL is in God's hands, we know that. And we know He has a big huge GIANT plan for her life. It's gonna be amazing. Fireworks and stuff. But we know it's going to be hard to watch her go through the junk she's gonna have to go through to get to the awesomeness.

For instance . . .
. . . I can't comment too much on her Facebook page because she gets mad at what I say, no matter how happy I make it.
. . . the only times she calls me specifically is if she needs something (her dog was biting at her, she wanted to get a spot out of her shirt, etc.).
When you think about these things, they sound marvelously like "mom stuff" . . . but I'm not the mom. She's made that clear. So I stand back, and take it.

And for instance, I think, "hey . . . her Facebook wall has been pleasantly calm the last several weeks; I'll peek into her messages and make sure everything's going okay with her."

**This is not snooping, FYI. This was a known-to-all-parties-involved part of the Having a Facebook Deal. So me signing in to check things out is no breach of trust or confidence or privacy.**

And I read things like "bulimic." And I read various and sundry swears and inappropriateness that I won't re-print.

Sigh. And ALL I WANT TO DO is complain to another stepmom about it. I want a stepmom Bible study. I want a stepmom book. A stepmom website.

And I know that community is a God-given gift, but what I KNOW is that God can be and needs to be all. I. need.

I want Jesus in human form. I don't believe He's going to grant my request.

So I will continue yelling at Him, and trying to pray for her, and trying to be honest with Him, and trying to convince myself that all this is not futile. And trying really hard NOT to flat out say she can't come back if this is how she's going to act. And I will try to figure out the best time to tell her dad these things. Because even if I do tell him these words that I've seen, he will call her, and she will probably deny it with some odd reason or excuse or some new story.

And I don't want to think about it. Anymore. At all. Ever.
My reality = sometimes I want to sign off.
Stepmoms know.
Don't judge.

I'm just being crazy real.

Oct. 6 of 31 Days

Day something of 31 Days. (It's Oct. 6. That's all I know.)

Thank you, Jesus, for 6yo boys who can pour Kix for their little brothers, so that when I'm about to get MG dressed and Daddy calls from his men's breakfast asking what Bible study he can sign up for, I can send him off to eat breakfast and talk in (relative) peace. (Even if your #momfail moment is realizing one of them had to eat their cereal out of a measuring cup because there were no other bowls clean.)

Thank you, Jesus, for Legos, so that when a conversation with hubby about signing up for Bible studies dissolves into a hormonally-charged tailspin of frustration, and then further (after the phone call) into a blubbery, snotty mess behind my bedroom door (so as not to worry the children), they can finish breakfast and go right back to their architecturally-charged frenzy.

And thank you, Jesus, for other moms in the trenches who understand that an assignment of writing for 31 straight days in a row might. just. not. happen.

See you tomorrow. Or whenever.

Oct. 4 of 31 Days

Okay, moms, here I am right in the thick of Mom Fail Central.

But then again . . . is it a mom fail? I don't know.

I hate (hate) starting the day yelling at the kids. It wasn't a tirade or anything, but they started arguing in the kitchen so I stomped marched in there and (loudly) told them to stop. I had already told them to stop from here in the living room, so I told them (loudly) that if they had STOPPED when I asked them to STOP, they wouldn't be having this problem right now. (I think they were arguing because MG wanted to know what kind of yogurt EB was having.)

I don't like yelling. I do it a lot. I don't like it. And we duplex with my parents so I know they have to listen to it. I have three kids currently; ours is not a quiet house. Theirs is.

. . . . . .

Do you ever do this? Do you ever start writing a blog about something icky, and then in. the. middle. of writing it, something good happens that turns the atmosphere around?

Last week, I saw these two button-up Wrangler shirts at Walmart for EB (he needs shirts with collars for school). He's 6, and the shirts are 14/16, but I like to shop a little ahead, and he looks wicked-handsomely-cute in slightly oversized stuff. And truth be told, it's not all that big on him.

Side note: I'm biased, but I think just about every 6 year old girl should have a crush on my son. I will, of course, have to beat them off with a stick later. I accept this fate.

They were on the clearance rack for $5 a piece, but even at that, I didn't have the money right then to get them. So I took a deep breath and put them back, knowing full-well the Walmart Rule : buy it now or kiss it good-bye, even when it's not on clearance.

A couple days ago - post-paycheck - I checked to see if they were still there, and there they were - $3 a piece! Thank you, Jesus, for rewarding my good money stewardship! (At least that's how I'm choosing to look at it.)

I was avoiding forgot to tell EB that I had gotten them until this morning. (I'm such a coward when it comes to buying something for one kid without having something ready for the others.) He picked one (red plaid vs. orange plaid; he chose red) and put it on. I told him it looked good, and then like a firework going off I clapped my hands and remembered that today is picture day!!

"I'd like to thank everyone for this Mom of the Year Award . . ."

God is so good! Brand new shirt, without having had the chance to get stained or wrinkled, for picture day.

God is so good - my visit to Mom Fail Central and my Mom of the Year Award, all wrapped up in one.

See you tomorrow.

Oct. 3 of 31 Days

Did you miss Oct. 2? No, you did not. I didn't write it. Just being real.

So since I missed a day, today's reality check is going to be somewhat bullet-pointed, with all sorts of "random" (MG's new favorite word) reality. Here goes.

- Yesterday, I was peeling yucky carrots. Although I did cut off any brown parts, the outsides were still kinda slimy. But I peeled them anyway, cut them up, and bagged them for snacks. You can do that with carrots, right?

- All 3 of my children share the same bedroom. My daughter has her own room, but prefers to sleep in the boys' room. (I heart that they get along so well.) However, she does not have her own bed. She sleeps on the floor, and has no problem with it. But since I had to go upstairs to MG's crying twice during the night last night, and he fell over her both times, I think it's time to move some stuff around.

- I have a policy about dinner. I make it. You eat it. Or don't. Your choice. But I don't short-order cook. Tonight, I made something I know my kids don't like. But I made it anyway. On other days, I've toughed through it and said they can eat it anyway. Or not. Tonight, I threw chicken nuggets in the oven, too. Weak?

Now...here's a twist. In the middle of writing this blog (which isn't hard, since I'm leaving it open on my computer to write it as today happens), I read this blog entry that was recommended by Threadbare Mommas.

I'm writing about reality here. And in truth, all these mom-fails are, truly, reality. We all do them. We all screw up. BUT. We do good things, too. We're just so good at thinking we're failing that we forget them.

So. As my Mom Of The Year trophy, I will be writing half of each post about the true mom-fails, things we all do but hate to admit, and half about the GOOD things I've done that day. Because they're just as real as any screw-up I've done during the day. Yeah. That's a good idea.

So here are a couple of good things from today.

- I did not yell at my kids before school. (This is an accomplishment. I was stern - my older two are getting used to a new schedule and both want to stay home when we hit Wednesday, but they can't, so I have to be serious in order to get them to keep moving. But I didn't yell.)

- I f.i.n.a.l.l.y started working on the kids' room. It's needed it for a while, but today MG and I went up to do it. I managed to get all the little clothes bagged by size and brought down to the 2nd floor to give away. And I moved EB's dresser into the closet to make room for an actual bed for Sister (no more floor). (And I promise, if it'd been too heavy for this 21-weeker, I wouldn't have moved it. It was fine.)

- By making chicken nuggets tonight, we had a peaceful dinner with no arguing. They love chicken nuggets. So I ask you: giving in on not making them eat dinner - mom pass or fail?

See you tomorrow.

Oct. 1 (31 Days)

I feel like I should be starting with a classic Joan Rivers' "can we talk?"

But really, it's more like "okay, here's the truth . . ."

In a very odd way, I think God is blessing me in this venture of 31 Days, because OH-MY-DO-I have some material - just from today - to start sharing real-ity.

First off, any and all personal real-ity right now is at least in part because I am 5 months pregnant. That's some reality for ya.

For instance, I practically woke up this morning crying. My brain had gone psycho, and was changing any normal thing into something horrible. Some dream I had must've included skydiving (why? because I'm pregnant, clearly) . . . and then suddenly I'm thinking, "what if EB and MG [my 6 and 3 year old sons] fell from an airplane without a parachute?!?!"

What?!?!?! Where did that come from? Pregnant, I tell you.

One of my very next thoughts was something along the lines of ". . . surely my husband would prefer any one of his old girlfriends to me."

Oh, dear. Clearly it's time to open my eyes and pull the emergency brake cord on this train of thought.

But here's my actual crazy real moment for the day:

We all know what it's like when one of our kids forgets something at home, and we have to take it to them at school.

Problem: I've had to do that several times already, and it's only October 1st. I feel like the secretary is starting to catch on that, more often than not, it's MY fault that I'm having to bring things into the office for them.

This morning, however, it was a conscious choice. I did not pack their lunches. I sent them with one snack each, and told them I'd bring their lunches later.

Why? Because I didn't have anything to give them for lunch. It wasn't just forgetting to pack their lunches. It wasn't just forgetting to get their lunches into their backpacks. [Fyi, before you start wondering, sometimes it's my responsibility to get their stuff in their bags, but mostly it's theirs. I'm no maid.]

It was - in fact - that there was no food in the house to PUT in their lunchboxes. Sigh.

Who's with me - three cheers for Lunchables?

See you tomorrow.

31 Days Challenge

So starting Monday, October 31st, I'll be linking up every day with the Nester for her annual 31 Days Challenge.

The idea is that you pick one topic that you can make very short points about, one each day.

My topic is "31 Days of Being Crazy Real."

I feel like God has given me a gift of being real with people. It all started with a small realization that a lot of us are thinking something, and the person we're talking to would probably love to hear it, but we're afraid of how they'd take it, so we shut up.

WHY???

So I've started practicing not shutting up. And it's going well. And people have noticed.

And appreciated it.

Some people don't care for it as much as others....but God has also gifted me with grace for those people and I don't let it bother me. (Not after a second or two, anyway.)

So every day I'll be posting something real. More than likely, it'll be something real that my kids did that day, or a very real thought or attitude I had.

I do not want this to become complaining. God forbid it. But I think all of us moms and wives are a lot more real in our homes than we'd care to admit. As my pastor said (quoting someone else), "We're comparing our Jacobs to everyone else's Israel."

Well. I'm admitting it. I'm terribly, terribly real. I find it too stressful not to be, and it's tiring having your Israel on display all the time. I'm just a Jacob that God is working on, and I think a lot of other people are, too, and would like to hear more from others like us.

See you Monday.

Friday

It is soooo Friday.

That is all.


(Because, even if it's just one line, I WILL get back into writing. Also because, NO, you don't have to have "scores of plots rattling in my head" to be a writer. Good thing.)