Words from a blended family...

The sounds of children talking can be so precious. I love sitting on my bed listening to the chatterings of children on the other side of the door. They don't know I am listening and so they chatter away unfiltered.

I hear them share things I would otherwise never hear. They tell each other things that make a mother's heart smile. They talk as though there are no lines that separate them. They converse like old friends and sisters. They love each other so much and you can hear it in the tenderness of their voices.

But when others listen...

The story changes...

They have to define things like "your dad" said or "your mom" said. They have to respect the lines adults have created. They don't say our parents but rather, your mom & my dad. They don't say my sister but rather use a name as to not offend others that may be listening.

You've heard about parental alienation but what about step-alienation? Not just for the step-mom or step-dad but the step-siblings. They don't want to draw lines. They don't want to call each other step-sisters or step-brothers. We don't use that term in our home but others almost require it of them.

What I mean by that is this...

We have two girls the same age in the same grade. One his. One hers. So being at the same school, people want to know how they are sisters if they aren't twins. Once the word "step" is introduced, it seems everyone has to define that for them. I've heard things like, "Well they're only step-sisters, not real sisters."

I just wanna scream! What do you mean they aren't real sisters? They share a room, sit next to one another at the table, share a bathroom, have some friends in common, have the same chores, do their laundry together and well do just about everything together. In some ways, I think they are more sisters than the girls in our home that actually share some blood.

What makes a "real" sister, I might ask?

As an adoptee, I have heard people ask me who my "real" parents where or wanting to use "adoptive parents" when referring to my mom & dad. I've had to educate people that my mom & dad were my "REAL" parents. They were the only parents I know. They are legally responsible for me and legally connected to me for life. In some ways, as and adopted person, I actually have more legal connection to my parents than birth kids. You can disown a kiddo from a will if you so please. Did you know my parents cannot? They swore before a judge to be legally attached to me for the rest of their lives and unlike divorce, there is no getting out of this one. My parents cannot disown me. They are stuck with me.

But I never thought I would have the same sickening feeling in my stomach when people talked about my kiddos. I hate defining 1/2 siblings and step-siblings. Who cares? No really...I want to know. Who cares? Why do you care if my kids are in the same grade but not twins? Why do you have to define which kid belongs to which parent? Why do you need to know how everyone fits together?

I call it step-family alienation.

Would you think it rude if I asked you if your husband was your kiddo's dad? Would you think it inappropriate if I asked when you got married & how old your kids are? Would you willing provide an explanation of how everyone in your family is related? Do you need to know how long my husband was divorces before we married? Do you need to know when my late husband passed away? Do you need to know how long I waited before I dated?

Guess what? I married an amazing man. We have 5 kids. Done. That's it.

If I don't use these words in my home, why do you (society) force my kids to use them?

My girls told me & hubby at dinner last week that the next time people tried to figure out how they were sisters, they were just going to tell them they were twins...identical twins! I said more power to you.

I mean my girls can talk without even using real words. They translate for each other. They predict each others' next move. They finish each others' sentences. Sounds like twins to me! Just sayin'

The "twins" are the brunettes...if you couldn't tell.

Huge outpouring...

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

My readers are amazing! Really you are!

I posted yesterday about having a bad day. All day long my friends and family reached out in every way they could. I got text messages checking on me. Picture mail of my favorite baby to give me a smile. There were Facebook comments and comments on my blog. 

Thanks...just thanks.

Being a step-mom can be really hard sometimes. I think I worry more about my words, actions and responses to my step-kiddos than I do with my flesh in blood. I have lost sleep worrying about how everyone is getting along. I worried about kiddos feeling they have lost their place in our family, life or the world. I worry about making sure I don't say anything that would be considered negative about their mom (even if I'm thinking it). I worry as all moms do but the worry is different for a step-mom.

After a good long cry yesterday, a blog post and a few fun pictures from my best friend of her beautiful baby, I felt much better. 

Blurry baby pic because he was laughing...the best medicine for a bad day ever.

It was still a very long, painful day. I couldn't really shake the feelings that had engulfed me earlier in the day. It was a fog hanging over me like Eeyore the donkey.

Then I read this in the few moments I was on Facebook posting my blog and just stopped to think how perfect it felt.

Did you know the people that are the strongest are usually the most sensitive? Did you knoe the people who exhibit the most kindness are the first to get mistreated? Did you know the one who takes care of others all the time are usually the ones who need it the most? Did you know the three hardest things to say are, "I love you," "I'm sorry," and "Help me". Sometimes just because a person looks happy, you have to look past their smile and see how much pain they may be in.

I think I have been strong for a long time. I think I have held my head high and tried to be positive. I think I care for everyone else first.

Then, I realize I'm a mess. I'm glad I'm a writer. I'm glad I blog. I'm glad I have someway to reach out and to express myself. 

It makes me realize there may be a lot of other people out their who don't write or blog. They may not know how to say how they are feeling. They don't know what to say or how to express it. I write in hopes you are reading this. I write so you know you are not alone. I write so I can get it off my chest so you know it's okay to do that. I write. That's what I can do. I don't always do it well and I don't do it often enough at times. I certainly let life get in the way of my writing. I often let way too much time go by without writing one word.

I'm not perfect and I don't try. 

Progress...that is my goal. I write because it helps me become a better woman, mother, wife, friend, daughter, sister, aunt and whatever other title I hold.

So once again...thank you. Thanks for listening. Thanks for commenting. Thanks for calling or texting or whatever you did to reach out. Thanks, just thanks.

Really, really bad days...

Did you ever wake up thinking you were going to have a good day and within an hour that wasn't the case? Hmmm, I did...

I'm over the stress and anxiety others bring to my life. I'm over the stress of money. I'm over the stress of kids needing this and that and well, I'm just over it.

Today is a bad day. A really, really bad day...

I live in a world that has nothing to do with me. That's okay, because that's called being a mom...but today, the step-mom stuff hurts.

What really gets to me is how often I have to pay for the actions of others with whom I have no and I mean NO relationship and I never will. I keep trying to teach my kiddos that there are times in life when we all have to pay a consequence for others' actions but right now I just wanna pitch a fit. I don't wanna learn a life lesson. I don't wanna! I DON'T WANNA!

Okay, breath in...and out.

I'm done. I've pitched my fit.

I love being a mom and wife. I love my kids and my husband. I love all the baggage that comes with this crazy, blended family. Somedays, I sit down to dinner and look around my family and I can't see anything but my family. It doesn't matter that they all have a different set of parents. It doesn't matter that they are 1/2 siblings or step siblings. We don't even use that word. In fact the dog is a sister too, really she is.

We're a family. All in one bunch. Crazy, different, and mostly happy family...

I want to close my eyes and pretend there is nothing beyond these walls of my home. I want to live in a world with just my family. I want to worry about the needs of the children who sit at my table and sleep in my home.

But this is not the truth for blended families.

We have people come in and out of our house. We have people who don't spend any time in our house and yet we are still responsible for them. Their needs usually take the priority over everyone else. We don't get a say. We don't have a voice. And really more than that, I don't have a voice.

The whoas of a step-mom are many today. I get to work hard for others to squander and make bad choices. I pick up the pieces that others' have broken. I pay the bills (or rather my husband does) for things I never see. I'm not considered a relevant party in making decisions regarding these kiddos, though I drive kiddos, and sacrifice and, and, and I thought I was like a mom...but oh by the way, the law says I'm not.

Somedays the kids hug me and I wonder what it would have been like to be their mom. I dream of a world where my hubby and I had kiddos together. Where we post pictures of ultrasounds and have a baby shower (and hubby doesn't want to come but does). Where we make lots of first memories together and I get to see the first time they smiled or laughed or rolled over. Were we lay in bed late at night with a toddler kicking us and climbing on us.

Mostly I'm glad I don't have babies or toddlers anymore. I love my mostly grown kiddos. They have been amazing to watch grow and they've matured so much. We have conversations like we're friends sometimes. I love hanging out with their friends and love taking them places to hang out with their friends.

But my hubby and I will never have a child together. We will never experience pregnancy as a couple. We will never get to pick a name together. We will never say, "I think she has my nose and your smile."

More than that, I'll never be mom to his kids.

They call me Renee...

I'm not their mom.

Like I said, it's a really, really bad day...

Okay, time to wipe away the tears. I love them and they love me. That really is enough and what really counts. Time to pick myself up and be mom. Even without the title, I still have to do my job...

For the love of words...

Words of affirmation

This is a love language. A beautiful love language.

There are people that just love to give compliments and say wonderful things to you. The thing with words is they can be over used. 

Think about it...how often in a day do you hear, "Hello, how are you?" Okay some of you may be surrounded by toddlers so maybe not quite so often but if you happen into a store you may hear it or when you pick up your phone. 

Do we even respond to the question anymore? Did you even look at that as a question or rather as a greeting?

How about when you get off the phone with a loved one? Do you say, "Okay, I love you, bye"?

Did you hear love in that? Did you feel loved like the first time you remember that being said to you by a significant other?

These words have power. Actually let me go back...

All words have power. 

When we throw them into the wind like a hello or goodbye we miss out on what they mean. 

Have you ever said, "You too" in response to being told you are loved like it was a common, "Have a good day"?

Stop. 

Think. 

Words have power. 

Let them. 

Think before you throw an "I love you" out there next time. Say it with power. Slow down. Let it sink in. 

You may not be heard the first time you do it, but it will make a difference. 

Words if affirmation are a love language because words have power. 

Me with my love. 

So inspired...

I love music. Love. Love. Love music.

It makes my heart swell.

It makes my days more pleasant and my life full of joy.

I. Love. Music.


So today, I was totally blessed with music ALL. DAY. LONG.

I got to get the Color Guard ready at my house, "Dark & Early" to quote Laura B. We did hair and makeup and had breakfast. We laughed and hung out and had a grand old time. All of this for our big event...Marching Band Competition!

They did great! The looked wonderful. It was so much fun! I would do it again for sure. It was worth all the hard work. It was a blessing to be a part of it.

I loved watching the other bands. I loved hanging with my girls. I loved, loved, loved it.

Okay...that's it for today. Oh and a few pictures of the guard with the Drum Majors. Oh and then the random Drum Line Section Leader in the background...our honorary Color Guard Member (lovin' that the guard discovered he was there in the last pic!)

Okay....we took bunches of pictures. Hopefully one of them passes the test!

Role Model? How did that happen?

Okay, so I remember some influential people in my life throughout the years. There were some that were only a few years older than me. There were some that were teachers. There were some that were my friend's parents.

Now it seems most of the influential people in my life are my friends. I've some how stepped into being a role model I'm not looking for one anymore. How on earth did that happen? Hubby and I were talking about high school and he's pretty certain the 90's were yesterday. I was the one that had to inform him that it was more like 20 years ago! I think I'm getting a headache thinking about this.

Grrrr! I grew up! Not that I wanted to have "Peter Pan Syndrome" or anything. I just didn't want to grow up necessarily. I was certain my babies would stay babies forever. I never thought I would say, "20 years ago..." and have memories other than stories my parents had told. I certainly did not think I would have children that would look me in the eyes without me squatting down, girls who stole (I mean borrow) my clothes & shoes or have to have a conversation with anyone about colleges!

I've had my friend's kiddos ask me for advice and look up to me. They wanted dating advice or a job reference. But those were my friend's kiddos. Now it's my kiddo's friends! What happened? I have Jr. High & High school kiddos! WHAT!!! Sorry, I don't mean to be screaming so much. I think I'm in shock. I need to sit down. Breathe in...and out. Okay, I'm calm.

Here's the thing...

I love it! I really do. I think high school kiddos are amazing! (There I go shouting again, sorry). I love high schoolers. I really do. I think it's amazing time in life. Okay, let me rephrase that. I think it can be an amazing time in life. I'm not sure I loved it but I remember the people that poured into me during that time. I remember the conversations that adults had with me when they actually treated me like an adult. I remember them telling me they loved hanging out with me and thought I was amazing and in the back of my mind I thought they might be a little crazy. The thing is...they probably were and that's what made me love them.

I didn't have to pretend with them. I didn't have to be "good" for them and try to make them like me (like with friends at that age). I didn't have to be on my best behavior or prove anything. They just liked me. It was a life changing time for me and I know how blessed I am to had these amazing types of people in my life. Hannah Silva, if you're reading this, I'm thinking of your mom right now. Tell her ;) Phylis Huerta you're one too!

Okay, I could actually spend the entire post thanking amazing people for being my role model, but I actually had another point entirely.

I think I'm becoming a better mom because I hang out with my kiddos with their friends. When I'm with their friend, I watch how I talk to all of them. I try to be uplifting and encouraging at all times. We all work as a group to speak positive words. We have fun. We laugh. I do their makeup and take them to dinner before Homecoming. They decide dances are boring and would rather go to dinner and movie (with me by the way).

I talk with them about boys and their silly high school antics. I talk to them about college. I talk with them about classes and homework. We talk about driving and laws. I listen to them complain about the world as it is. I listen to them try to figure out complicated "real life" issues.

I come home and talk to my hubby about high school woes. We laugh and remember thinking out world was so hard and our parents' didn't understand anything. I think I may owe my dad yet another apology because once again, his words are coming back to me...through my own mouth actually. Ugh...when did this all happen.

But in the end, I really do love it. I love having my house full of High School and Jr. High girls. I love listening to them laugh. I love listening to them encourage each other because we all know that during theses years, in just one year they grow and mature so much they can even see it. I listen to the upper classmen encourage the freshmen. I listen to the freshmen encourage the Jr. Highers. I just listen and laugh.

Then I go to bed at night and lay there and wonder...

When did I grow up?

My life is an open book...

So have you ever heard people say their life is an open book? Okay, I'm sure you have. I've been know to say it on occasion as well. I tend to think my life is not only an open book but that I am also very transparent and open.

I think that I'm one to put it all out there. I believe that this is one of the things that makes us accountable in life. If my close friends and family know what's going on with me, they can help me and keep me accountable. This is how we grow. 

But then I have a bad moment. Okay, okay, okay, a bad day, week, whatever. It was not good. Then I get called on the line and held accountable for my attitude, my actions and my words. All of the sudden, I don't wanna be an open book anymore. 

I'd rather be like that book at the bottom of a teenager's locker. You know the ones. They sit at the bottom of the mess and collect all sorts of things. They get spilled on and then the pages start to stick together. When you try to pry them open you tear pages and words are lost or censored. There are stains covering certain parts and it becomes a bit of a mystery as to the details inscribe in the book. 

I want to want to look like that sad book with the binding pulling away so that at any moment a certain page or two could just drop out and disappear from the book. 

But alas, this is not the case. And frankly, as embarrassing as my bad moments (or weeks) are, they are part of me. I am a whole story. Every part is important. Every word is part of the story. Without a page or two, the book or rather my life are just not the same. 

So today, as I sit in my car waiting on a kiddo at an activity, I came to realize just a few things. First, I'm a writer and so I write. I do not plan to make my family blog a beautiful blog full of pictures of my family's activities. I probably will not keep people up to date with this ones activities and that ones interest. I just write. That's who I am. I've come to this conclusion before and now I'm holding myself accountable to write and every day. It may not always be a blog post but I'm gonna write!

Second thing I concluded is that I have found my voice. I don't know who the reader is but I know I have my voice. It's something I thought I'd never find. It's something I thought I would struggle to find my whole life. 

Lastly, I am not in pursuit of fame and riches or millions of followers. I aim to write because that's the person God created me to be. I am true to Him and no one else. I know some days I find it hard to hear Him but today I have clarity. For that I am thankful and so I write. 

Okay, I better stop writing today so I have something to write about tomorrow. Thanks for listening.