The Stepmom Diaries

I was never the type of person who liked kids.  Even as a child, I preferred the company of adults.  So imagine my surprise when I found myself in love with someone who already had children.  When I met Big Bren at 28, the most experience I'd had with children was babysitting my nephews.  Although I adored them, I literally threw up every time I had to change a poopy diaper (yes, every single time).  I often couldn't wait to deposit the noisy, pooping, snot-nosed little buggers back in their mother's arms.

When Big Bren and I were dating, my exposure to his children was limited.  He had them on weekends, but being a successful modern woman, I often had other things to do and seldomly shared the same space with them for a prolonged period of time.  Whether by design or coincidence, any time I spent with the kids was crammed full of activity and all meals were taken outside.  

Somehow, in the excitement of being in love, I never actually realized that the children were part and parcel of the Big Bren package.  Oh, it sounds silly now, but it's true.  It seemed that as soon as we got married, the children were around all the time.  For someone who had been living the single life for so long, it came as a culture shock to suddenly have no privacy, no time for myself and -- most importantly -- no peace and quiet.  And although some children are fairly self-sufficient, my step-children had to be waited on hand and foot.  They didn't (and still don't) feed themselves; whatever room they inhabit, they leave a mess in their wake.  They pour huge glasses of juice/water/milk, take a sip and leave it there.  At the end of the weekend, every room is riddled with half-empty glasses.  I thought I'd be smart and buy juice boxes. Now, it's the juice boxes that appear under the bed, on the dressers, on the counters and in the hampers.  Although they are good children, they are horribly undisciplined.  No matter what activity Big Bren had planned for them, they'd head straight for the television and stay there until they fell asleep -- with the lights on and still in their street clothes.  Weekdays were/are devoted to work and on weekends, the children commanded (and got) most of Big Bren's attention.  I felt like I was getting the dregs of my husband's time and love; not to mention the fact that I had been relegated to not just stepmother status, but to servitude.  Add to the mix the children's psychotic, money-hungry mother and, needless to say, I was not a happy camper. 

Big Bren and I have been together for almost 10 years now.  I would love to say that everything worked itself out and that we are now one big happy family; but I'd be lying to you.  Some things are easier now, but every day is still a challenge.  

The children's mother is still psychotic; she is the only woman I know who will leave crying, screaming, angry voicemails if you treat her children well.  Yes, you read that correctly.  She gets more upset if I take the children to the mall or to the movies and we have a good time, than if I am nagging at them the whole weekend.

For Big Bren, one of the biggest difficulties has been balancing the relationship he has with Brendan -- who has him day in and day out -- with the relationship he has with his other children.  Another difficulty has been realizing that although I am his wife, I am not his children's mother.  I do not have the infinite well of patience that their mother would.  Yet another thing he cannot comprehend is that I am not the maid; I have other things to do beside wash dishes the whole day or cook or pick up half-empty glasses or do laundry or clean the bathroom.

As for me, I still struggle.  I struggle with territoriality and allowing them into my personal space.  I value time alone and get cranky when I feel like people are crowding me.  Space, time and quiet are precious commodities that are hard to come by around here.  I value my own sense of order.  I put things in particular places so I can find them when I look for them -- a lost cause with three children.  I value equality; I don't understand why the Psycho gets so much in child support, which, in essence, takes away from Brendan and puts a hefty burden on me.  

I admire Big Bren for doing what he's doing.  There are so many absentee fathers out there; it would be easy for him to send a check and check out emotionally.  Yet, he makes a conscious decision every day to be a part of his children's lives.  Regardless of how things turn out on the relationship front, that is something he can be proud of.