Saturday, August 27, 2011

FANTASY EFF OFF FRIDAY!

Oh, have I got a post for this…
my first venture into the world of memes
.......on the very FIRST Fantasy Eff Off Friday.. .


It's gonna probably be long. Grab a beer....
It is one for the books...And I have no qualms about calling people out on it.
WELL...Here, anyway.
Because, in the real world? It just gets awkward.
Side note: I would apologize for the changes in colors and fonts, but I started this at 4 am, and am just finishing at 11…a day late at that, on a day that SUCKS for me, and it entertained me… so politely eff off if it bothers you!

There is no simple answer for this problem, short of throat punching every seemingly well meaning person who broaches the topic.

I looked for quotes, there are no suitable ones…
almost as if the subject is taboo.

I gave up looking for words to use, so I found my 'title' in other languages...

belle-mère  French
     madrastra  Spanish
                      leasmháthair  Irish
                                 Stiefmutter   German

What I can't find, ANYWHERE...
Not. One. Place.
Anything that explains why people feel that it is appropriate to ask questions about what *I* feel is the most personal issue in a woman's life. Maybe that mentality perpetuates the problem.... I'm not sure.

What I KNOW...?
I haven't given birth.
I've never been pregnant.
I am a stepmother.
My little family's first picture all together...
Like the fairy tales, only better.

What does this mean to ME?
Only Everything. But not in the way you assume.
Here is the advice available...and what type of mentality we face. Always.
“There is this double standard by which we suspect stepmothers of being wicked and selfish, yet expect them to be utterly selfless and loving to kids who are not their own, kids who are often hostile and rejecting for many years in spite of a stepmother’s best efforts and intentions.”
Luckily, I have NEVER faced the issue of the kids being hostile towards me for the sake of my role as a stepmother. I HAVE dealt with the FEELINGS that go with the sentiment expressed, but have been fortunate never to have heard "You're not my mother" thrown in my face in anger.

“I prefer the term “wife” to “current wife” or “new wife.” It’s more accurate and less loaded, I think. There’s a wife and an ex-wife (or partner and ex-partner). Period.”

Again, something I don't face. My 'ex-wife-in-law' or the woman I refer to as "The Mother of My Children" and I? We get along. We aren't delusional, we have our days we want to strangle one another. But generally? She's a good person. She's fiercely trying to be a great mother to the kids. Her choices aren't always what we agree on, HOWEVER, the way she has presented MY role to the kids has always been appreciated.
Beyond WORDS....Appreciated.
To quote her (during a particularly devastating day, very early in my stemomness, when someone made me feel like CRAP because I wanted to take off work for a school thing for my stepdaughter...They told me it wasn't even MY kid, so they didn't think I should take off)  "If I, their MOTHER, consider them your kids...who the hell is ANYONE to argue the point?"  So, again. This is all great information available to people who have the issues dealing with their role. But there is none available for those of us who don't. Who have more INNER struggle than outward with the situations.

“Stepmothers need to put their own adjustment and self-care first, rather than siphoning energy away from that to “fix” something that you didn’t break yourself.”
and
“Put your own happiness, your own mental health and your marriage or partnership first and without guilt.”
~Wednesday Martin, author of Stepmonster
I should point out that I have never read this book (in part because of the fact that everything I find seems to point toward it being advice I have little need for) and that I think it probably is a very well put together book for the majority of people who carry my title. I just don't fit in that specific part of this story.
 
Ok, So I got a little sidetracked, because my Eff Off isn't specifically about the limited understanding of the Stepmother in the modern family. Although it TOTALLY deserves an eff off of it's own...  and I guess I'm combining...

It started out to be more about those people who will inevitably ask the MOST RIDICULOUS QUESTIONS... immediately upon meeting me. Like it's their God Given Right because they gave birth...
Do you have kids? Oh, why not? Did you not WANT kids? So you never actually HAD a child? Oh I thought you said you have two? Were you PLANNING to?  Did your husband not want more kids? What about when you're older... What if you two divorce, then you have no one to take care of you?
"Maybe I’m being oversensitive, but I find it incredible a stranger thinks it’s fine to probe my ability or desire to procreate. For I’m certain the same people would never dream of asking me to reveal my salary, how often I have sex, or who I voted for."
Read more of this AWESOME ARTICLE
Then there's my favorite attitudes (just as a side note...)
Oh, thanks for the input, but since you didn't actually have a baby - your suggestions are less valid...no offense... 
 (Simply having children does not make mothers.  ~John A. Shedd)
Like giving birth actually gives you some insight on what to do when your child has allergies, or is having trouble learning math, or is insisting on getting a dog. Whatever. I did it. I did ALL that. I've been there, done that. I just wasn't offered the T-Shirt....why? Keep reading.

Now that I've meshed the two subjects together into a MEGA EFF OFF post...I'm gonna run with it and stop apologizing for the detours... Just try keeping up.
If you don't mind me asking... (I do, but that's NEVER stopped anyone)... Why didn't you have any of your OWN? (like I contracted the work out to avoid the labor?)
I know you *think* you love them as if they were your own, but if you never HAD your own, how could you KNOW? I don't think it's possible...

You can't POSSIBLY imagine what motherhood is about if you never carried a child and given birth...
Oh, so you don't have any REAL kids...? (someone I went to high school ACTUALLY said this during a conversation about my daughter graduating high school and how insane the preparation is) I'll send you the bills for the braces, the statements to pay on the insurance for her to drive a car, Not to mention also parenting a BOY...I'm totally unequipped to explain, but I'm FULLY experienced in the the difference. They ARE REAL KIDS...
Oh the Biblical references...Questions about God punishing us....

Q. Were barren women in the Bible used by God even though they were considered cursed? What is Biblical view of being barren? Were any of the barren women HEALED?

"'Sing, O barren, You who have not borne! Break forth into singing, and cry aloud, You who have not labored with child! For more are the children of the desolate Than the children of the married woman,' says the LORD. " (Isaiah 54:1)  
"For indeed the days are coming in which they will say, 'Blessed are the barren, wombs that never bore, and breasts which never nursed!' " (Luke 23:29)

Heaven help the ones who CHOSE to be childless....
"Do you find childless woman in their 40's a little bit offish?"
"My friends and I have occasionally likened coming out as child-free to coming out as a gay person 40 or 50 years ago. There's the same sense of shock - perhaps that's too strong a word. But it's a lifestyle people don't expect and it may challenge their world view," says a 31-year-old cited in a BBC interview

Here's the REAL scoop....
I didn't choose this...
I wanted children. More than you will EVER know.
It wasn't meant to be for me. Which is Something I found out when I went in for surgery at 37, two weeks after losing my father (which believe me, affected the grieving process for BOTH situations).
I ALWAYS wanted my own baby. I knew, when hubs and I married, that I wanted to have his child. I wanted that bond. I wanted to share that with him, even though I wouldn't be the first person he shared it with...
As time went on, minus pregnancy, despite our wish for it, I began to think of my situation a different way. I had gotten close to many other stepmom's through a community online. I had watched many of them become mothers and the stepchildren became more of a burdern in most cases. It changed the entire dynamic of even the ones who TRULY LOVED their role as a stepmom. It was difficult to process for me.
I prayed for my own child. I ached with the yearning. I KNEW I wanted it with *almost* all my heart.
Wait....What.....?
Yeah. ALMOST all my heart.

Christmas 2000

I have two children. They're AMAZING kids. I love them with everything I have...ALL of my heart. It's not always easy to share the parenting, to know I'm second best AT BEST in the grand scheme of things. That I'll never be anyone's MOMMY. Why not adopt? (another favorite question that should be banished)....
Because. I ALREADY KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO LOVE ANOTHER PERSON'S CHILD.
BUT....
My prayer was always the same. "God, I give this to you...because I know that what *I* want is selfish in it's ways. My honest desire is to be the best mother I can in whatever role YOU choose for me. If having a child of 'my own' will change the love I feel for the children I have, then I don't want it, God. I don't want to change the pure joy I find in being the parent of these two kids"
So. I left it up to God (It's not like *I* had any choice anyway). I had known all along that I never wanted us to be the 'fertility' couple. If we couldn't concieve, we had already determined that we were not going to spend the majority of the kids years at home trying to force something that wasn't working to happen. I admire the women (and understand the urge) who are willing to subject themselves to medical procedure after medical procedure to concieve. It was never that I was against the idea. It was just the same mentality as the prayer.
In short, If it took my life to a place where what I DID have was not enough, I didn't want it.

Sounds all noble. Sounds like I'm just a freakin saint... right? Wrong.
It is purely a matter of logic. Analyzing. Being content to curl up on the couch with my little family and realize that if I were obsessed with fertility, I would miss the moments where my kids DID come to me. I would look at it as if I were LACKING something because I had not pushed a child out of my body.
Yeah, I would have LOVED to know the feeling of a life growing, of GIVING life to a child.
Instead, I am content to be the person who nurtured who these two children are becoming.

I taught my son his abc's, helped him learn to read, how to tie his shoes. I have been in his life as long as he can remember. Every day isn't sunshine and happiness, but honestly? The testing that he does, the pushing of buttons, the attitude of a teenager?

That all just shows me .....
 I did my job.
The job of a Mother.
Me and my Bug


That he treats me as a parent. Because he does NO MORE or LESS to the other parents in his world (except that strange OVERBOARD kids go with pushing their actual mother...which I'm REALLY OK with missing out on)


I danced with my daughter at bedtime, I listened to hours of questions about the world. I did the slumber parties. I did her hair and makeup getting ready for dances (and most of her friends').
I shopped. I played.

I had talks about beoming a woman. I taught her and her best friend what a tampon did 
(with an inspired demonstration in a strange shot glass....)
To be sure a stepmother to a girl is a different thing to a second wife to a man! ~Elizabeth Gaskell 


Me and Princess Grace

 Guess who calls me when she's bored? When she's excited about a job, or worried about something... When she's upset, or afraid. Or bored... (because apparently 21 year olds are bored a lot these days...)She's at the age where she realizes that my job wasn't always easy, but not quite old enough to truly GET IT yet. I might not be the one she runs to for everything. I may never been who she wishes was there with her when things are at their worst, but I like to think I'm in the mix. For that, I'm grateful. 

I didn't get it all in the way most people think.... I realize that. I'm ok with that.
So all of you people out there who feel it is OK to question, judge, pry, snoop.....?


Feel Free to EFF OFF!





Don't expect the mushy very often...



Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Spreading A Little Thin the attention span these days?

Well, it is bound to happen someday.
Right?
I mean, how many balls DO I expect to have in the air at once without one of them eventually causing me a concussion?

OK. So, obviously I have *issues*
I'm a tad scattered (as I write this, I am currently reading two twitter accounts, texting with my boss, talking on the phone with my hubs, googling info on psychiatrists in the area, googling adderall dosage, trying to print out a report for work, and looking around at the chaos that surrounds me in this room wishing I could shut down life JUST FOR A WEEKEND and organize my world.)
Because I can't manage to enjoy things in a simple manner, I feel like I have to complicate them unnecessarily. Thus the addition of a second twitter account (I can't be funny with my family watching. My humor doesn't WORK on them). Of course, to add that twitter, and get klout and such going, I needed a Facebook account to reference it to. So I now have a totally useless account set up that I may or may not enjoy torturing people from anonymously for a while. Of course, again, with the tag of Soup in general? It's pretty much a giveaway. Which is why I won't even BE MY OWN FRIEND on that Facebook account. Brilliant, right?
Today is one month not smoking. I'm kinda cool with it. It's also been a month with my working out, and clothes are falling off of me. Now I've actually set up an appointment with a psychiatrist (multi-tasking KICKS ASS) and will, hopefully, do something about this ADD issue I'm having these days. I am aware that I have real distractions in my world, but come ON... if I can medicate with my friends' meds and function, then somewhere there is a med just for me!  Not that I need another diagnosis, but I'm tired of being so obviously SCREWED about getting things done. Work. I need my job. Which means if I have to work from home due to circumstances, I need to be able to actually DO my work from home. Right? RIGHT!

Now. Because I'm just that kind of brilliant Bored DiStrAcTeD. I have started digging through images for...
wait for it....
More images of Barbie... I have to explain this pattern. Because I fear people will begin to take it the wrong way...

Once upon a time, in another lifetime - not so long ago - I worked in a job where being female was considered a pretty big handicap. No one took you seriously, no one allowed you to even DO your job most days. Being 5'5", blonde hair, blue eyes, big boobs, and a size 5? I got the nickname Barbie. 
Hell, I might as well have just stayed home. But I didn't. I was pretty determined to overcome the stigma. Over time, the inmates (yeah. That's right. A badge, a gun, and 1,400 men that had to do what I said!) realized that I wasn't all fun and games. They adjusted their opinions AND my nickname, and Barbie Bitch was born.
OK, don't get it twisted. These days? I'm a lot more Bitch than Barbie and I haven't been a size 5 this century. But come on. It's a play on who I was once, and I enjoy it. Besides, I'm working my ass off (literally) and although I have no specific interest in being a size 5 again...I WILL be Barbie Bitch again some day. Maybe a different attitude, and a different size, but I'll find that inner Diva and bring her back to life. One day at a time...

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

I'm feeling very Holly Golightly today....

I feel like running off to somewhere I've never been before... just because I never have.

Tuesday...oh no it CAN'T be Tuesday...it's TOO GRUESOME!

I've got a hell of a week to go and I just want it to go AS PLANNED for once. So everyone keep your shit together and things will be JUST FINE. Don't make me go all Ya Ya on everyone. My weekend girl day plans already got screwed. I'm not tolerating any further fallout.
Or narcissistic, passive aggressive crap.... You've been warned.


Wednesday, August 3, 2011

The countdown is on...



Ok. I admit it. I'm spoiled.
28 days.  6 nights, 7 days. Casino, Beach, The Boardwalk...

It's just almost impossible. This time next month I could be rolling my eyes in boredom from TOO MUCH vacation.

So how much pre-trip shopping can I do without putting a huge dent in the spending money?

Alphabet Soup Explained....



Although most people who know me wouldn't think so might wonder are completely aware of. I'm a bit of a mess. Not so much OUTWARDLY....but inwardly...absolutely.

Soup began innocently enough. It was all about venting and ranting and whining and bitching and moaning about life in general with a friend. Soup is sacred. What happens at Soup, Stays at Soup... So there are no off topics there. No judgements or disapproving looks... it's all about whatever we need it to be.  Soup began when a friend was going through a rough spot in her life, and I'm ALWAYS in some random restless vagabond mode or another. So we would go. Sit. Talk.  We made time. Along the way we picked up a few things... the spoon...which is the symbol of soup, and our own particular brand of crazy soup. Mine? Alphabet...all the way.
ADD, OCD, PTSD, AD....You get the picture. I could make a business card look good. So there you have the basis behind Soup as a premise.  Spilled Soup came about because I needed a place to vent that *I* didn't edit for content. I need to be able to be snarky, and judgemental, and generally be the bitch that I am.
So while it definitely takes some effort to keep up with all my crazy, Eventually I hope to have this blog going along quite well... I have places I have to be nice. This isn't it.
So stick around. Things might just get interesting...