The Wicked Stepmother

There’s a pretty well-known statistic floating around out there, declaring that fifty percent of marriages end in divorce.  As a young bride, I knew that my marriage was rock strong, and my husband and I would stay married until the end of time.  After all, divorce was something I had heard of, but I didn’t personally know anyone who had ever gone through it.   It happened to other people.  God bless their hearts. 

However, seven years later, I was forced to divorce my banker husband because of his unethical business practices.  I just didn’t think he should have made that wench woman his head teller because she was allowing him to make deposits into her pocketbook.   

In case that was a bit too euphemistic for "they had an affair,"
it will be helpful for you to know that Maya Angelou called
a woman's hoo-ha a "pocketbook" in I Know Why the Caged
Bird Sings.  How else was I ever going to work a picture of
Maya Angelou into my blog??

My divorce was devastating.  It both literally and figuratively almost killed me.  I’m not going to dwell on it here.  Let’s just say I became depressed and suicidal for almost two years didn’t handle it well.  

If you think the fifty percent divorce rate is scary, you should get a load of the percentage of second or third marriages that end in divorce. It goes up significantly with each subsequent walk down the aisle.  I knew I didn’t want to live my life single, but I was also determined that I would never go through the hell of another divorce again. 

 When Kelly Hatman kinda sorta asked me to be his wife in the most awkward, unromantic way in the history of proposals, I knew this was a guy that I was willing to take a chance with, even if he sucked at marriage proposals, and said, “Yes!”  Or maybe it was, “Okay,” because I’m not sure he ever asked an actual question.

The moment I had him snared, and he couldn't back out.

What I didn’t know was that my marriage to Kelly, despite him being The Most Awesome Man in the World, was the beginning of the hardest journey I have ever faced in my life- not another divorce but the blending our two families into one. 

            I think there are lots of things that factor into that higher divorce rate for second marriages, but the struggle to integrate the values and expectations of two different families into one while contending with all the normal newly-wed issues and also simultaneously juggling relationships with ex-spouses, who may or may not be quite sane, has to be the primary reason a lot of couples in second marriages decide to call it quits.

            It was not easy.  It didn’t come naturally to me.  I didn’t take one look at his children and fall in love with them as passionately as I loved my own.  Ditto for Kelly and my kiddos.  It took YEARS of hard work, but I think Kelly and I have made our blended family work in a way that I rarely see in other similar relationships. 

So, here’s my list of twelve things I think will help make a blended family successful. 

1.              Quit distinguishing who’s who.

It bothers me when I hear people introducing kids and trying to explain stepparent/ stepchild relationships.   Why is it important that I tell people if I actually birthed all of these ankle-biters I’m hanging out with? What right does the average person have to know the inner workings of our family?

In the early days, when I did call out one child or the other as my stepchild, I always felt like I was betraying that kid.  It was like I was saying, “This is my real child, but THAT one doesn’t really belong.” I decided it wasn’t anyone’s business and would introduce all of them as my children even if I had not pushed the particular person in question out of my birth canal.  I was doing all the stuff that moms do for all of those kids, and they were mine. 

The awesome thing about doing this was that when I quit talking about stepchildren, I quit thinking about stepchildren.  Saying they were mine helped to solidify in my mind that, heck yeah, they were mine!  Another great thing is that lots of people don’t actually know which children came with Kelly or came with me or that there’s even any question about who’s whose, and I love that about our family. 

2.              Don’t forget this is hard on the children too.

Do I really need to explain this further?  Apparently so, because I see people who act as though they are the only one being inconvenienced by their new spouse having progeny that like to see their parental figure on a regular basis.  Guess what?  There’s a darn skippy good chance that the little person you don’t like having in your home doesn’t like having you in their home either.  It can be seriously hard on the littles to have dad bring in a new mom in addition to whatever lingering issues they are struggling with over the divorce of their parents.  You’re an adult.  You knew what you were getting into, and you had a choice.  Get over yourself.

3.              Be willing to rethink and revise but stand firm when needed

I had been a single parent several years before Kelly and I got married and had an established way of doing things and expectations for my kids.  Interestingly enough, Kelly also had a way of doing things and expectations for his kids that did not always align with mine.  Sometimes we meshed perfectly.  For instance, neither one of us followed a vegetarian lifestyle and were perfectly happy raising our children together as omnivores.  Check.  Neither one of us allowed our children to back talk or disobey without exacting consequences upon said child.  Check.

HOWEVER, there were things we did differently, and I don’t just mean that I didn’t want to serve grilled cheese and tomato soup every night for dinner.  One example came our first October together.  I was raised not celebrating Halloween, and I did not celebrate the holiday with my own children.  Kelly, however, had been raised thinking Halloween was the best holiday of the year and LOVED getting his kiddos dressed up and taking them out to trick-or-treat and load up on candy.

When the topic came up about what we would do as a family, I decided I would go along with his way of doing things because my ambivalent conviction about not celebrating the holiday was not strong enough to ruin a family tradition for him and his children.  I also didn’t want to be known as The Stepmom Who Took Away Halloween.  That will for sure earn you wicked stepmother status.  Call that self-serving, but establishing those relationships is difficult enough without taking away the free candy!

Other times, there were hills upon which I was willing to die.  The Eminem poster in our oldest child’s room, for example, just didn’t have a place in our home.  Kelly hadn’t really thought it was a big deal but was willing to join forces regarding its removal.  Other times I just didn’t consult with anyone and took care of things on my own.  A t-shirt that I found offensive or a skirt that was too short would likely never find its way out of the wash. 

These are just a few of the hundreds of times where I had to stop and evaluate just how important the issue at hand was and decide how it best needed to be handled based on that importance.  With both of us being willing to compromise, we were able to build what we wanted our family life to be like. 

4.              You don’t know everything!  Be willing to apologize when you’re a jerk.

When Kelly and I got married, the ages of our children were two, five, seven, and ten.  The older two were his, and I, being the younger, trophy wife, had the younger two.  Kelly’s youngest child seemed so big and old to me, despite his tender age of newly seven. 

I was appalled, I tell you, to see that the boy didn’t even fix his own plate at the supper table.  I insisted that he immediately begin doing so, to which Kelly good-naturedly agreed.  My own five-year-old had been fixing her dinner plate since she was six months old, and I clearly knew how to better parent in this important area of food independence.  I didn’t realize until several years later just how little that little boy really had been at seven, and I have since apologized to him many times for trying to make him grow up too quick. 

This scenario would play itself out over and over again where I had thoughts about what his significantly older children should or should not be doing, only to realize how stupid I had been when my own children reached that particular age. 

That leads me to…

5.              Don’t set a precedent that may come back to haunt you.

It’s incredibly easy to be all “we don’t do that” when it comes to a stepchild but don’t forget that you better be ready to hold your blood children to that standard too.  Thankfully, I figured this out pretty early, and asking myself, “Would I want Kelly to act this way with insert name of one of my children” was a good barometer by which to gauge my behavior.  It’s better to lean toward generosity, love, and tenderness toward stepchildren because you will want those same gestures extended to your own children too. 

6.              Present a united front… even if you think your spouse is wrong.

Children are like mini, evil warlords.  They are born understanding the maxim “divide and conquer.” If you let them, they will play you and your husband against each other.  Especially in a stepparent relationship when there are ex-spouses around spewing their venom.  

Don’t. Let. Them. Do. It. 

Even if you think your husband has lost his mind regarding a rule or behavior, do not let your children know.  Talk to him about it in a place far, far away from the hearing of your children, but present a united front to the children. 

7.              Don’t talk bad about the parent of the children.

Another no-brainer, and yet I see this one happening all the time.  One of us had (has) a crazy ex-spouse that did their level best to make our lives miserable.  It would have been so easy to bash this ex-spouse in front of the kids so that our message of contempt could be sent through young mouths.  We refrained from this though because we are adults, and they are children.  They love their parents, and, if we want to demonstrate love to the child, we will not bad-mouth one of their beloved parental figures.  Find an adult, mature way to handle your differences.  If the ex-spouse in question refuses to cooperate, then suck it up and shut up when the kids are within five miles of hearing range. 

8.              If you love their dad, you will love the children.

These two things cannot be separated from each other.  The happiness of a good father is wrapped up in the happiness of his children.  Love all these people without reserve. 

9.              Do the hard stuff.

I refer you back to point seven and the crazy ex-spouse.  This person would constantly do things to make our lives harder through intentional ill-will and frequent stupidity; however, this ex-spouse was invited to birthday parties and holidays and was made welcome in our home.  Why? The kids would have been the ones to suffer if that parent had been treated as deserved, so we extended grace for the sake of the children. 

10.          People are stupid.

You will find that many people will just not accept that you are including all the children as your own.  They will pry into matters that are none of their business and ask pointed questions in their attempts to draw lines through your family.  They will ask questions like, “Now which of the children did Kelly have before you married?” or “Does name of child belong to you or Kelly?”

Another example of this happened when Kelly and I become pregnant with our fifth child, who turned out to be a girl.  Many, many people said to me, “Kelly is finally getting a girl!” when our other two older girls, one of whom Kelly has adopted, stood nearby.  I always wanted to reply, “As it happens, Kelly has had two girls for the past eight years” and then punch them in the throat. 

I never did, but the point is that some people are idiots and you will have to protect and shield your children from their stupidity.

11.          Remember they’re just kids.

Maybe this ought to be my number one point, because it may be the greatest wisdom ever taught to me by Kelly.  Remembering that our kids are just kids has helped me not act the fool on many an occasion.  They are children.  I am the adult.  Behave accordingly. 

12.          Your feelings are going to get hurt.  Get over it.

All of our children live in our home fulltime and have for almost all of our twelve years of marriage.  I cook, clean, help with homework, doctor sicknesses, taxi, and do all the other hundreds of things moms do for their kids every day of their lives.  I love them all equally and would die for any one of them, but the oldest two have another mother who they love and to whom they feel loyalty. 

Many have been the times when I stood back and watched her get the first hug or a bigger gift (which I’ve bought myself) or the most attention.  Many have been the times that my heart has ached, or I was on the verge of tears because I realized that no matter what I have done or how much I loved, the blood tie of the biological mother is a trump card.  I have stepped back and smiled when my feelings were hurt because I didn’t want anyone to feel guilty or torn between what to do.

Even though it hurt, they’re just kids.  You’re an adult.  Pour that hurt out to your husband in private and let him minister to your heart, but keep it together in front of the kids. 

Well, that’s it!  The twelve things that have helped our family become what it is today- a place of love and acceptance for all where no distinguishing lines are drawn and all are treated equally.  I love our home and our family but making it happen has been a truly tough road.  There were times when I cried and regretted getting married.  I often wanted to tear the head off an ex-spouse.   One time, I seriously considered leaving and moving back in with my parents. 

I hope and pray that if you find yourself in a situation like ours, that some of what you’ve read here will help you find your path.

Down with the evil stepmothers!

A Dad Like None Other

One topic most people find easy to discuss is their parents.  Usually you’ll see faces light up with love as they tell you about mom’s fried chicken or dad’s amazing carpentry skills.  It hurts me though to see eyes cloud with pain as I am told tales of absent fathers or abusive mothers, and as a schoolteacher, I hear those stories a lot. 

My own story is sort of unique. 

I can empathize with those pain-filled eyes because I can remember when my family was one of those sad stories.  I won’t go into great detail here, but we were living in abject poverty with a father in the home who was living only to please himself.  However, my dad became a Christian when I was eight years old, and everything changed.  What I want to convey are a few of the things about the new father I received on that day that make him so amazing.

• When my dad became a Christian, it was real, and the change was immediate.  Where there had been drugs, alcohol, and long absences, now there was peace, contentment, and involvement.  Try to tell me Jesus isn’t real, and I’ll tell you a story about a fellow named Jim Raley who became a new man the day he met his Lord. 

Dad lied about his age when he was 17 and joined the Air Force.
This is him at age 18.

• He nicknamed me ‘Lucy,’ and I was a teenager before I figured out my name was not Eve Kathleen Lucy Raley.
• I loved to squeeze Dad’s bicep muscle.  He would flex it and say, “That’ll crack your head like a walnut.”
• I was never scared in the night because I knew dad was in the house.  With those walnut-cracking muscles, he was like Superman to me, and everyone under his protection could sleep safe and sound. 
• Every night before he went to sleep, he would kneel down next to his bed and pray.  Every. night.
• I thought it would be funny to hide in a pile of laundry on his bed and scare him after his evening prayers.  It all went perfectly until I realized he had his huge fist drawn back to deck the hidden terror in the laundry. Thank you, Dad, for realizing it was me before you broke out my teeth.
•  One night when we were doing our family Bible study of Proverbs, I was feeling peevish, so I made the point that none of the verses applied to me because they were all addressed to “My Son.”  He patiently explained to me that the masculine form was all-encompassing for the sake of those verses,  and thereafter, when Dad would reach one of those “My Son” verses, he would always pause, then add “or Daughter,” and look significantly at me over the top of his Bible.  I always wished I hadn’t tried to be difficult that evening. 
• I never saw my dad get angry.  Not. one. time.  He never yelled at me or belittled me or made me feel less.  If I did something deserving of punishment, I could bet the consequence would be swift and sure, but it was never done out of anger.  I have tried to discipline my own children in the same way. 
• One time after I had done something particularly heinous, I went to his bedroom to apologize.  He was looking out his window as I came up behind him and said, “I’m sorry.”  He turned to me, and I saw he had been crying.  Those tears broke my heart, and I never wanted to disappoint him again.
•  He taught me that the Bible was sacred and holy.  The Bible was so revered in our home that no objects were allowed to be placed on top of it… unless it was another Bible. 
• Dad forbade me to date certain Undesirables, and when I tried to sneak around and do it anyway, he whipped me.  I look back on those fellows now and shudder.  Thank you, Dad!
• When I was going through my teenage angst months, Dad one day sent me a balloon and a rose to school, and I remembered how much he really loved me and stopped acting so stupid.
• My dad always told me I was beautiful and smart and worth more than diamonds, and I believed him because he only speaks the truth.

He was really proud of all his girls.

• My father never hesitated to show us kids how much he loves my mother.  He used to tell me that a man should kiss his woman like he eats a ripe peach; then he’d turn and kiss her.  I never knew exactly what that meant because he put up his hand to hide their faces.  It never crossed my mind that my parents wouldn’t always be together.  They were a single unit then and still are today.
• When Scary Todd started leaving his scary messages on my voicemail, I told my dad about it and never heard from Scary Todd again.
• *Disclaimer* Scary Todd was not killed.  I SAW him again after that, but he actively avoided me.
•  He’s crazy intelligent but hides it on purpose behind his country drawl and poor spelling.  One time, he wrote, “CHEEP, CHEEP” on a car he was selling.  When I asked him if he knew he misspelled it, he told me he was luring potential buyers into a false feeling of superiority, and they wouldn’t realize he had them until it was too late. 
• On the day when I shamefacedly confessed my pregnancy-of-unfortunate-circumstances to him, Dad smiled at me and said, “I like grandbabies.”
• When I cried the day before my ten-year class reunion because I had bitten all my nails off the week prior and was ashamed of my hands, he made an appointment for me to go have my nails done.
• He loves my children as much as I do.

My dad baptizing my nephew Christian.

• His eyes light up every time he sees me, and when I say, “How are you, Dad?” he always replies, “Better now!”
• In the summertime, he cuts a single rosebud for me as I leave his house.  He will always hold the perfect little flower up to my face before giving it to me and say, “It’s not nearly so pretty as you.”

Did I mention how handsome he is?

I’m going to see my dad today.  I’ll try to tell him how much I love him and what a great dad he is.  I’m always afraid he doesn’t quite believe it’s true.  He focuses too much on those early years and thinks the damage he did then could never be undone. 

Maybe he doesn’t understand the legacy of love he built for us every day since then.

Maybe he doesn’t see that I am what I am today because he was who he was.

Maybe he doesn’t realize that when I look back on my childhood, all I feel is love and safety.

Maybe he doesn’t know that in the eyes of his children, he is a man among men. 

Maybe today will be the day I find the words to show him what an amazing dad he is and how he taught me what a real man looks like.  

My family- I love them all so much!

   

Dat Gumbo Make You Slap You Momma

I’ve always been a good eater, and in the early years I was a one-trick pony, but since then, I’ve also become a crackerjack cook.  There were early gaffes, e.g. the time I made goulash and used only ketchup for the sauce, but overall, quality eats have been turned out of my kitchen for nigh on twenty years.

Hamburger, noodles, and ketchup. Mmmmm....

Gumbo is one of the dishes that my family begs for, and I believe I have perfected my recipe.  I did a two-year stint in Louisiana when I was a preschooler, which likely explains why I’m so good at making it.  I shall share it with you here.

Put a pound of chicken in the oven to roast.  Make sure you season it with salt, pepper, and garlic.  Also put some rice on to steam.  You’re probably going to want about four to six cups of cooked rice.

Chop an onion, a bell pepper, and about four stalks of celery.  We like our vegetables chopped small, but you do whatever suits your family best.  I have a mini food chopper that is the bombdiggity for this job.  In a stockpot, sauté these veggies in a little oil - just until they soften.

Over half of my recipes start with the same three ingredients. 

Add two boxes of chicken broth or stock.  Trust me on this; you want the boxes.  You can buy cans of broth, but it won’t be as good.  You can make your own stock from scratch, which is what I used to do, but you’re wasting your time.  Give the boxed broth or stock a try, but don’t rush me in the streets trying to kiss me once you taste how delicious it is.  I’m not comfortable with being kissed in the street, but you’re welcome ahead of time.

I am not a paid spokesperson for Swanson,
but maybe I should be.   

To your broth and veggies, add seasonings.  I’m not going to tell you how much to add or limit you to the list of things I put in.  Just put in the amount that feels right; trust your instincts on this one.  Your goal here is to make a broth so flavorful that your family members fight each other to get the last bowl.  Add stuff like salt, garlic powder or crushed garlic, Tony Chachere’s Creole Seasoning, parsley, celery flakes, onion powder, a couple of bay leaves, and/or chicken-flavored bullion cubes.  Place a lid on your pot, and set the heat so it simmers.

The seasoning of the gods. 

Make a roux by browning a cup of flour in a stick of butter and a few tablespoons of oil.   Making certain to stir constantly, brown the flour over a medium heat until it is a deep, deep brown.  

Seriously.  Get it really brown. 

Let your roux cool a bit before adding it to the broth.  I lay some paper towels over the top of it while it’s cooling to soak up some of the excess oil, but I’m not judging you if you choose to dump the whole mess into the pot as is. 

Slice a pound of Andouille sausage and brown.  I’ve used other sausages like Kielbasa and Polish, but you’ll be glad you went with Andouille because of its subtle spicy goodness.  WARNING:   I one time got ahold of a package of Andouille sausage that listed pork blood loud and proud on its ingredient list.  I vomited into my mouth a little.  Go forth and buy your Andouille, but first check the ingredients. 

Upside- No pork blood.
Downside: These little links resemble hot dogs
when sliced up, and who makes hot dog gumbo?

Add the sausage to your broth along with the cooled roux.  Break up the roasted chicken and toss that in there too.  Also thaw some peeled and deveined shrimp, remove their tails, and add it to the mix.  How much shrimp should you add?  How much money do you have to spend?  Let that be your guide. 

Now that you have all that goodness simmering in your pot, give it some time to percolate and for all those flavors to mix and meld into mouth heaven.  Taste test frequently, and add more spices as you deem fit.  I don’t make mine very hot because it’s so easy to add extra Tony’s to your bowl to suit individual tastes.  Add extra boxed broth if needed to make it very soupy. 

My husband approves this message.

To serve, put a helping of rice into your bowl and ladle the gumbo over the top.  Stop and thank the Good Lord for Louisiana, and Cajuns, and spoons because you’re about to experience a goodness the likes of which have not been felt since manna fell from Heaven. 

Don't hate me because I got to eat this and
all you have is a picture.
Just make your own.