I Think I Can Do It Better

For so long I had questioned what my role is supposed to be as a stepmom. Do I care for the child? If so, how? What is acceptable? Where is the line drawn? Do I act as her sister, aunt, friend? Do I discipline her, bathe her, clothe her? Am I allowed to take her places without her dad? All I knew is that my money and insurance was good enough for her but apparently my assistance with doing her hair or buying her clothes were all too much.

No one teaches us these things...you know...stepmom survival skills. But I think I can do it better.

Here I grew up with a stepmom and I still wasn't clear on what to do. My relationship with my own stepmom growing up was nothing like it is between me and my stepdaughter. The circumstance are very different. I grew up resenting my stepmom...my mother made sure of it. Did she have reason? Sure. But, I wasn't given the chance to find out for myself what "I thought". I would soon find out what I thought later when I turned 16 years old, which is when I decided to live with my dad,... and his wife, her daughter, son and even Memaw. I wanted to get to know my dad and these people just came with the territory. Getting to know my stepmom was very surreal. And I was very disappointed in my discovery. Every year I lived there I continued to tell myself that my dad was worth it.

I learned to adapt. I was good at it. My stepmother kept to herself in her bedroom mostly. And when she was around me I got the silent treatment a lot. I never understood why. She isolated herself and it gave me the impression that I wasn't important enough to be around her unless she had to be, and if I did need to see her I was to come to her in her bedroom. And that's how it was. Before I'd leave to visit friends or go on a date I'd have to stop in her bedroom to tell her and my dad bye...and so they can approve of my clothes. And if she needed me she'd yell at the top of her lungs for me to come to her and she would keep yelling until I came running up the stairs to her bedroom. She wasn't nice to me unless she was in front of my father. Many times while my dad was working, my stepmom would take my stepsister shopping and leave me at the house to clean. I felt like a modern day Cinderella. I didn't like confrontation so I never told my dad or said anything to her. She'd only make it out to be my fault for not being with them, anyway. I was easily manipulated back then.

It wasn't until I moved out after college that she began to be respectful towards me. I forgave her for the hell and the lies and the disrespect. It was hard to do. I never understood why she was that way towards me but a friend made it clear to me that perhaps she was jealous of my relationship with my dad. Who knows. I never thought I gave her reason to feel that way but I've since learned a great deal about insecurities.

My stepdaughter has been around me since she was 2 years old. Like I said, our circumstances are very different. Initially I thought I was supposed to behave maternal towards her. She was so young and it just came naturally. But I was later confronted with lashings from her mother. She did not like me getting so close to SD. Apparently SD would refer to me as her mommy when talking to her mom. I know that was an accident, she's just a little kid. She called me mommy once and I corrected her immediately...and kindly. I doubt she received the same kindness when her mother corrected her judging by the phone call we received with SD crying in the background. So sad. It wasn't long after that that SD started referring to me as Cruella Deville and Ursela the Sea Witch while we watched those movies. I was the villan in each one. We kindly corrected her about that, but I'll be honest...it really hurt my heart.

Over the years, I started reading stepmom books. I needed some advice, badly. I finally discovered it was best that I only focus on what I have control over and that is being a good wife and.... being a good stepmom? There's that question again. How are you to be a good stepmom when no one seems to be clear on what that consists of? I believe it's different for each of us. Some of us are custodial stepparents, some are noncustodial like myself, some are blended and some are empty nesters. What I've learned is that we let the bio-parents be the parents. And as much as you (the stepmom) feel left out of the equation, snap out of it! This is how it is. Your role is to be YOU and to love your man...love his kids if you want to. You didn't marry his kids or his ex-wife. It took many years for me to figure this out and yet it seems so simple. That's because it's not easy to accept. If you're like me and you've invested so much of yourself into the equation it's hard to pull out. But for sanity's sake, do it. Just do it. I've found how I can make it work for me. I enjoy my time with my husband when Sd isn't there. I do what I want. I don't have children so it's easier for me to do this. But that my choice. And when SD is with us, I've learned how to prevent my resentment by making my husband parent her. He tells her when to get dressed, go to bed, eat, bathe, he dries her hair and puts it in a pony tail, he takes her dirty clothes and throws them in the washer. I used to do all this stuff and I had to stop. He is fully capable of doing these things for her. And if I want to give my 2 cents I do, but ultimately he is the one who oversees her. Like I've said before, it wasn't always like this. While we were going through the false allegations sh*t I was the one who did all of it. It burned me out to the point I was resentful of SD. I hated myself for feeling that way. I had to parent her while her mother ridiculed me for it, yet I had no choice but to continue. Nothing I did was good enough.

Today, I feel like I can say I'm a good stepmom. I encourage SD to do things with her dad without me having to tbe present all the time. I can care about SD but maintain my own life and do things for myself that I like. I'm a role model for SD, not her mother, sister, or aunt. I am better to SD in this capacity than in the confused/resentful/depressed state I was in. It's hard having a difficult bio-mom to deal with, but I've learned what her needs are. She needs to be the primary focus of her daughter and she needs to be "better" than me when it comes to her hair or her clothes. That's fine. I know where I stand with SD. I had to get to the point that I don't need validation of my value from that whole situation. My SD is content with our relationship. She looks at me as a stable figure in her life. She admires my career and she knows I keep her secrets and provide good advice. She tells me she misses me, wants me to see her cheer and wants me to go with her and her dad to do things together. She even comes to kiss me goodnight. It's nice to be wanted. And I like the person I am since I've let the bio-parents be the parents...even though I think I can do it better.

Mental Health and the Stepmom

When our lives got turned upside down by BM when she made her false allegations against DH there was a lot of anger, sadness, confusion, anxiety and uncertainty for several years as we were in and out of court. Mentally, I was a wreck. (Still am today at times but not like I used to be.)

How do you keep yourself mentally healthy?

Well most people suggest you should talk about what’s bothering you, like seeing a therapist for instance. Some suggest doing yoga, meditation, prayer, exercising, etc. All those things sound wonderful. Of course I resort to none of them. But I did choose to talk about it…to my friends.” My friends” who happen to not be stepmoms, of course. Great choice, Faith! Not. After awhile, my constant crying on their shoulders led me to find those friends were growing tired of it all. They were tired of it? I was sick and tired of it and I was right in the middle of the drama every day. But I was bringing them in with me and that wasn’t fair to them. These friends, although they loved me, they needed to be released from my shitty problems so they could enjoy their lives and not waller with me in mine. They didn’t marry a man with Satan as the ex-wife. I did. I didn’t want this situation to define who I was or how I’m perceived by others. I had to find another way to deal with this because there was no telling how long this case would go on…or how long my “friends” would tolerate it.

I figured out quickly that the only help I was going to get was from me and I had to figure this thing out on my own. I so desperately wanted to know where I fit in as a stepmom. I wasn’t a parent to anyone yet I’m married to a man who has a child with an ex-wife. What is expected of me? What is my role? Do I discipline? Do I feed her, bathe her? Clothe her? Teach her? Do I go to her functions? I felt lost and useless. I was the only person I knew at the time who was going through this confused state. As much as I talk about hating FB I have to say it helped save my life. I had been fortunate to connect with a large group of stepmoms on FB for support. For years I spoke freely in the group about all the troubles and negativity I had been dealing with caused by BM. I had a lot to say. I spoke of doubts and concerns and question about my role. For once, I felt I found people who really understood me and my feelings. And, there were women in there who were going through what I was going through. I found validation that I was normal, what I felt was normal and I wasn’t this terrible person I thought I was for the feelings I had. If you’re a stepmom you know what feelings I’m talking about.

As time went on and as problems occurred, I would express myself however I wanted without judgment. It was great. Instead of taking my anger and depression out on my husband, I was focusing it into the group and received virtual hugs and comforting words immediately. It was life changing. It was the support I needed to get through the day, through court, through life. But then after a year or so, my need to express all the negative “babymamadrama” wasn’t there like it was before. It was like one day I figured out that I’m always going to have something to bitch and moan about. The ex-wife was never going to stop so why should I waste so much energy on griping about it. She was getting what she wants and I decided not to waste my breath anymore about her antics. It was like I was repeating myself with the same crazy sh*t week after week. Who wants to read about that all the time? I know my “friends” were tired of hearing about it. I had convinced myself even the stepmom friends on facebook were probably tired of it too. I just knew I didn’t want to waste anymore energy on that woman. I needed to take a break and realign my mental state and see where I was and what I needed.

I started to back off from the group and go to a happy place for awhile…wherever that was. I realized the break I took from the group was best for me and my mental health since I had reached a level of contentment. Stepping back was good for a bit but I stayed away too long. Quitting a support group cold turkey probably wasn’t my best choice. Things quickly got out of control again. BM rattled chains by taking us back to court with more allegations. It made our finances so bad we didn’t have food to eat. The legal bills, gas, social workers, etc took precedence. My credit at that point was ruined. The humiliation, invasion of privacy and constant threats from BM were more than I could deal with. And my plan to have children was crushed. This was not the life I had planned for myself. I was mentally, emotionally and even physically worn down. I felt alone, invisible, and hopeless. I had hit rock bottom depression. I didn’t see any need to be here anymore. I had made up my mind. I’m done. I’m done with this marriage…I’m done living.

I logged into FB the day I had decided to end everything. To my surprise, I noticed I had a private message in my inbox. I wasn’t going to read it…but I did. It was from the leader of the Stepmom group. She reached out to me to say I was on her mind. This woman, the one who managed the group of hundreds if not thousands of women, took a couple minutes out of her day to reach out to me. Me? I was no one. Why did she reach out to me? That one little message changed everything that day. I sat there and cried my eyes out after reading that one sentence. I was valued by a complete stranger. The whole time those tears were falling I kept hearing this voice “I haven’t left you, I’m here. You’re important to me.” I swear it. From that point on, I haven’t looked back. I haven’t considered divorce and I haven’t considered ending my life. I have value and BM cannot take that away. No one can. And, I vowed never to let myself get to that mental state again.

So…….how do I keep myself mentally healthy? I exercise. I make time for me. I make my husband deal with his ex and not share every detail with me. I don’t talk about the “babymamadrama” to my friends. I focus on things I have control over like being a good wife to my husband, participating in community outreach, letting my husband be the parent, and making time with my friends having positive conversations and doing fun activities. I also constantly remind myself that I don’t have to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders….and that I’m valued even though I don’t have children.

Something else helps, too. I was connected with a friend who was starting her business of being a career coach and offered to help me as her first subject at no charge. I was grateful. She showed me that I needed to not focus on the negatives and start focusing on the positives. Positives? What positives? She asked me one question. What do YOU want? I just looked at her. I thought it was a trick question. I began to tell her “I want BM to stop her bull sh*t and stop using SD to hurt DH.” She said “No Faith, what do YOU want for YOU?”

Silence.

I was speechless. And then I cried. No one had ever asked me that before. I think I was more shocked that someone even cared to ask. I honestly didn’t know what to say. She hugged me and said I think I know what your first project is going to be. She had me create a Vision Board. I was to cut out pictures from magazines (or print some from the internet) and paste them to a poster board. These pictures represented the things and feelings I want for myself. And, how I feel when I see these pictures are the feelings I want to have when I attain these things. I kept that board at work and looked at each picture every day and basically meditated on it. You’d be surprised at how much of a difference that made. It put things into perspective and helped me rediscover the person I once was and am proud to be today. And it improved my relationship with my stepdaughter in many ways.

Thank you, Lisa. You changed my life forever.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't

You know that saying “You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t”? Well, my experience as a stepmom has led me to quoting that line way more times than I care to admit. Pleasing my stepdaughter is never a problem. It’s her mother that seems to never approve.

My husband is not only a great husband but he’s a fabulous dad. He loves his child so deeply and talks about her constantly as if she is the reason he breathes. We don’t get to see her but every other weekend and the two weeks in between are sometimes hard on him. The time we do get with her is always quality time. He takes her to the skating rink which is her favorite thing to do and they spend all day there. He plays video games with her and takes her to the park. He reads to her and plays Barbies with her. We enjoy going to church together and visiting her grandparents. SD is an only child and usually plays at home by herself so having someone to do something with is a treat. She just adores her father. With a dad like that, who wouldn’t?

The two weeks in between our visits are long but we make it through all the while dealing with constant text messages from his ex-wife. It has gotten to the point of what I would call harassment. It’s constant nit picking and complaining of how terrible of a father he is and she states all these bogus things he supposedly doesn’t do.

Two weeks ago, SD was with us over the weekend and complained about her head itching. She said her mom has been giving her Benadryl to sleep at night. She figured it was irritation from the chlorine in a pool she went to during a pool party. I looked closely at her head and saw a big louse in her hair crawling around. It was all I could do not to scream and jump six feet in the air. I quickly motioned for my husband to come over to me as I slowly started backing away and I whispered “your kid has lice”. This was our first time dealing with it as adults. As kids, we’ve all had it at one time or another. But being on the other side of it and knowing we have to treat her long thick dark hair, I instantly sighed inside because this was not how I wanted to spend my weekend.

I questioned whether BM knew about this and purposefully sent her to us untreated out of meanness. Do you think terrible of me for thinking that? Go ahead. But it’s not the first time she has used her daughter to get back at us for whatever reason she has built up in her mind that month. So, my husband texted BM and she never answered. He called a couple times and couldn’t get her. He called a third time and she finally answers. He tells her SD has lice. What does BM do? Guess. Seriously, guess!

She starts balling like a baby. I can hear her nonsense coming from the phone all the way into the other room…and it wasn’t on speaker! Then I hear DH trying to console her. What?

Y’all, when I talk about my husband being a good man, he really is. But sometimes I see how she does him and I instantly have this Ally McBeal moment of slapping him up beside the head and saying WTF is wrong with you? She was crying as if this was all about her. And to her, things are usually always about her. Just ask her. No, don’t really ask her. She’s awful.

Anyway, there he was trying to be nice and telling her that kids get this stuff from other kids all the time and that it doesn’t mean she, as a parent, did anything wrong. It’s okay, blah blah blah. Okay, maybe for a moment I felt sorry for the crazy witch because maybe she’s never really dealt with this sort of thing and doesn’t fully understand that it’s easily caught by other booger eating kids. Fine. And for a moment I felt like we were appreciated because we did the dirty work in treating her head with the EXPENSIVE treatments all weekend and BM didn’t have to. I said to myself “Self, this is probably what co-parenting is like”. For once, I felt like we were valued as parents and hero’s and there was no way she could find anything wrong with how we fixed the problem. Surely she will stop her meanness for awhile and appreciate the help we provided with that nasty infested head. And BAM! Not a week later she’s back to her witchy self telling DH what a terrible father he is. The dude CANNOT catch a break. Oh, and let's not forget I don't know what I'm doing. I'm so glad she reminded me of this. I almost forgot what a worthless air breather I am. Thanks BM.

This is what it’s like week after week. Take one step forward and sixteen steps back. But we're not giving up...

Perception

I confess. I hate Facebook (FB). Yet, I check it 20 friggin’ times a day. All these people and their happy lives with their happy kids and their happy vacations, it’s hard not to compare your own life with what you see on the newsfeeds. “That should be me at the restaurant; that should be me wearing that new outfit; that should be me at the beach; that should be me announcing I’m pregnant; that should be me buying a home.” But none of those are me because of the situation I married into, not knowing that in a year of marriage we’d be faced with legal and financial issues that would be beyond our control for years to come. Part of me feels cheated and resentful that my life didn’t go in the direction I had dreamed it would go, and part of me knows life isn’t fare and those things I dreamed of were maybe not meant for me to have. It makes me sad. How could it not? So if I sound bitter, then yeah, maybe I am. So instead of me posting about vacations, houses, babies and the like, I get to post about my cat. Listen, if I have to sit there and look at pics of your kids clogging my newsfeed every time I check my FB then you can do me the same favor and look at my cat and act like you like it, damn it!

I’m guilty of it, comparing my life to those happy robots on FB. I mean seriously, how can anybody be that damn happy all the time? I shouldn’t compare myself but it’s easy to fall into that way of thinking. Most of the time people inspire me on FB and other times they depress me. I have to remind myself that all we see on FB is one side…the happy boastful side. We don’t see the screaming kids, the fights, the messy homes, the moms pulling their hair out. Our “perception” is that the Joneses have it all together because they’re not showing their “moments of shame”. Pull that curtain back further and then the whole story becomes more colorful and true. Everyone has drama in their life, some are better at not showing it…unlike me. FB asks “How do you feel?” Really? Someone out there really gives a hoot how I feel? Can I be honest? WELL I’M EFFING MISERABLE because I’m mourning the life that I won’t have and try to forget about but constantly get REMINDED of it thanks to the ‘happy people’ on FB!” (Sigh...) Well, as a Stepmom dealing with constant Parental Alienation, I find it a bit difficult to keep from posting about the hell I’m dealing with at that moment. It seems like FB is a perfect outlet to voice how I feel, right? But I quickly find out that no, you can’t post anything like that on there or else you get looked down upon, judged, and ridiculed. But I post my 5 minutes of shame anyway and my husband finds out, gives me that look of disapproval, and I feel remorse. I don’t want to be one of those people who “air out their dirty laundry”. But, GUILTY! So, I soon follow it with the press of a button and it’s gone… and I’m left wondering who all witnessed my moment of weakness.

No, I’m not a drama queen. I’m just not good at hiding my feelings. I don’t think of myself as a loose cannon, despite what you might think right now. I can only hold in so much before I break. Even the strong people need their moment to cry. I sometimes wish I was the kind of person I used to be, more controlled and unexpressive. When I turned 23 that all changed. For years I’d keep my mouth shut and smile no matter how many daggers flew at me. I “just took it” and didn’t bother with confrontation. I figured if people wronged me then somehow I must have deserved it. I later learned I didn’t deserve it; I just let people manipulate me. Keeping it all buried eventually turned into anxiety. But these days as an adult, I find that as a professional I have to work hard at keeping that poise and silence I once had. When dealing with my personal life, however, I’m a bit more unreserved. When I moved away from home to the big city I figured out quickly I didn’t have to take that crap lying down. I’m free to think and do as I feel and no one has control over me but me and my own conscience. I don’t mean I think I’m free to run naked and wild through the Wal-Mart. It means I’m free to make my own decisions as an adult, be accountable to myself, voice my own opinions without worry of someone getting pissed off and giving me the silent treatment, and not have to answer to people who don’t have my best interest at heart anymore. I used to keep things wrapped up inside and later learned after all my heart health issues that it wasn’t healthy to do that. And in order to have a healthy marriage I’m supposed to communicate. So I’ve mastered the art of talking about it. Thank goodness I married my best friend. (Poor guy.)

It’s funny how our memories can lie to us. We subconsciously choose to remember certain things and forget the others. And most times what we remember becomes glorified into being something it really wasn’t… but we “want” to believe it. For example, after returning from my Stepmom conference this summer, I immediately got off the plane and drove up to attend a family get-together. The discussion about “Perception” was still marinating in my mind. I’m having a conversation with my stepsister and she suddenly brings up something that happened many years ago that I find still rubs me a bit raw. How she remembers it is not how I remember it. Her perception is that she was “helping” me. It’s funny because that’s not at all how I recall it. She had an agenda and succeeded, as she did many times before. I was humiliated and made to look bad, and to make a long story short, she got what she wanted because I didn’t know how to defend myself and refused to get down on her level. As uncomfortable as I was listening to her talk about her “helping” me back then, I kept my mouth shut. The word “Perception” rang loud and clear in my head and all I could tell myself is this is how she chooses to remember that incident. Fine, I’ll give her that one for now, but I know the truth. I choose to let it go because I love her, regardless…. I choose to forgive, but forget is not something I can do.

So, what does any of this have to do with me being a Stepmom? Not really a damn thing. I just wanted to blog about “perception”.

Control Freak

I reread my last post and the first thought that came to mind is damn, I sound like a whiney little b*tch. But, anyone who doesn’t know my whole story really won’t understand where all of that comes from. As time goes on, I will share what led me to such a paranoid state and whiney disposition. It’s actually quite mind blowing believe it or not. Most stepmoms who read it won’t be all that surprised. I think some of it will still be considered as pretty extreme and just might make you appreciate your situation a little bit. I’m not saying my situation was worse than anyone else’s but I bet I have some shock factor in there that will make you shake your head a few times.

I’m the kind of person who likes to be in control…of my money and my life. I like STABILITY. I don’t like surprises. I struggle with giving God the reigns to guide my life and find myself grabbing them and getting my hands slapped. Even He would tell you “She’s a stubborn one!” I need to do better with that and I work on it every day. I HAVE gotten better. When things are not stable, like money for instance, I am a worry wart. I worry about every damn thing. It’s like I can’t turn it off. I’ve prayed, meditated, exercised, drank myself into a bolivian… It’s a bad habit of mine…worrying I mean…not drinking. Well….

After our first year of marriage, we had talked about having a child. But we got sucker punched when BM made false allegations against my husband claiming abuse to their daughter. At that moment, my life spiraled out of control. All the lawyers, court sessions, social workers, doctors…I swear BM has a crystal ball and uses black magic to try to destroy us. I laugh when I say that because I can picture her sitting there on her “jobless & lazy-by-choice butt” hovering over a ball chomping on Cheetos and Little Debbie cakes chanting evil things. Okay, so Im’ exaggerating but really, she probably sits on the couch watching Lifetime and creates the drama to implement day after day.

Her lies were meant to hurt us, which they did, and separate us, which they did not. We struggled financially for years because of her horrible lies. We’ve had cars repo’ed, we’ve come home to no power, no gas to get to work, no money to get prescriptions and no food. All our money went to people who we had to pay because of the allegations. Nothing was stable, so of course I freaked out, loud and often. My anxiety and blood pressure levels have been to the extreme and I have been so low in a deep dark depression I honestly didn’t think I would come out of it. Although I will explain my entire story, I will not be doing so today. That is an area of myself I keep in a place deep inside me and it will take a lot of Jesus and Bourbon for me to rehash it all. Another day, perhaps...I’m out of Bourbon.

Those Happy People...Uhg.

So there I am… walking into my husband’s family’s get-together and everyone is happy, laughing, passing babies around, hugging each other and there is nothing but LOVE all up in that place.

And then there’s me.

I immediately feel a sense of unworthiness and an overwhelming feeling of not being able to leave my BabyMomaDrama at home. Oh why does it follow me EVERYWHERE??? The pressure I put on myself before arriving there always brings out the negative feelings and doubts of “what I’m not.” I’m not in the mood for this; I’m not able to blow off my issues to act happy to be there. I’m not a mom. I don’t have anything in common with these people. My life is nothing like theirs. I’m stressed, tired, resentful, and I don’t want to be around happy people when I’m ….not happy. If that black cloud would just go away maybe…just maybe I could appear to be more “happy” to be there and mean it. Sometimes I sit there and wish that just once, just once I would like someone to acknowledge what I’ve given up; what I’ve sacrificed; what I deal with on a weekly basis and say “Wow, I don’t know how you do it. We are so lucky you are in SD and DH’s (my husband) life. Here, hold my baby.” Okay, so maybe I’m asking for the equivalent of a unicorn but I’ll explain the “Here, hold my baby” in just a moment.

I’m not fake. I’m definitely not an actress. So pushing that smile out and onto my face is like trying to force a crap while constipated. Oh…there it is! I did it. Now maybe no one knows this is killing me. Oh…but then someone walks right up and hugs me. Damn! These people hug a lot. Ready or not it’s show time. “Oh, hi! It’s so good to see you. I love your hair. Have you lost weight? Love that dresssss!” This is how southern people greet you and make small talk.

So anyway, like a player on Call of Duty, I immediately scour the perimeter for an empty seat. Found it! I sit down. I look around and see babies. Babies every-damn-where. Uhg! Why can’t I get excited about them? But hey wait a minute, why are their mothers not handing them to me? Do they think I don’t like babies? Or do they think I’m not interested? Oh no, what have I done? Quick…have I given anyone the impression I don’t like kids? Surely not… Oh wait. I don’t have any kids so maybe they think I don’t know what I’m doing if they hand me their babies... PARANOID? Um yes. Over the years of BM mocking me saying I “play house” when her daughter is with us, that I don’t know what I’m doing when I have helped SD with things or when I do her hair. BM even laughs at the clothes I buy her. She has made comments that I am not a parent so I don’t know what I’m doing. These things stuck in my head for so long. Do I believe those things? No. But I let it hurt my self-esteem somehow. And now it shows around my husband’s family. Or at least I think it does. Don’t get me wrong. I do love my husband’s family. They are precious people and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I just have issues that I need to deal with and they have nothing to do with how those issues got there. I have to find a way to set aside the BabyMamaDrama and be a part of the family. And no one is going to let me hold their baby if I don’t “grow a set” and ask.

No longer a Blogger virgin

Finally! I figured out how to work this blog. It only took me an hour. And here I thought I was techy! So this is my first blog EVER! And never did I think it would be based on being a StepMom. But here I am. I'm looking forward to spilling my guts since society thinks I should keep my mouth shut, be a wall-flower and deal with the world with a smile on my face. I don't plan to blog about all the negatives in my life but I have numerous concerns, thoughts, questions, ideas, and moments of weakness to divulge. I also want to write about happy moments, successes and plans to improve myself or situation. Being a stepparent isn't the lifestyle I thought I'd ever have and after being in this position for the last 6 or 7 years it has taught me a lot about myself. I haven't solved this stepmomhood puzzle and by no means do I claim to have any answers that are one size fits all, but I think I will touch on areas that you can relate to as a stepparent and find comfort knowing you are not alone.

Me in a nutshell. I'm a Christian (but I struggle with a few cuss words from time to time), I'm married to a wonderful man, I have no children, I'm a professional business woman, I have a 9 year old StepDaughter we see EOW and due to all the PAS tactics and craziness I seriously don't know that I want children. That is where I am.