I won't lie, it's been a challenging start to the year.
The eldest is failing, the youngest doesn't listen - to anything.
They are both incapable of going a day a moment, without a lie.
Somewhere along the line, I questioned to myself if this was all worth it, somewhere along the line, I reminded myself that I've committed my life to their father and that in turn, this is part of the package. I'm still trying to figure out if this is a raw deal or an opportunity.
Mommyhood - no training required
So here I was thinking to myself, that things would progress. That life, like everything else in my daydreamers mind, would fall into it's perfect place with enough attention. Sadly, I've been wrong all along. This isn't about me and this isn't about how I can fix them. They are damaged children, with damaged perceptions about life.
I often hear my hubby-to-be repeating himself to the kids. Another day, another session of shouting at two children who know the rules, know the routine, know what is expected. They still don't do it. They are addicted to the drama that comes with the fight.
Later, I realised that no parent actually know what they are doing, how can they? You get children that don't come with instruction manuals, advice that comes from people with their own set of ideals for their children, no "one size fit's all" here, I'm afraid. Everyone, is just winging it!
Another little meltdown
I'm almost getting used to being in a state of depression and frustration. I know that I need to love them, but I also don't have to. So somewhere between wanting to be this vessel of unconditional love and purity, the resentment is real.
Somewhere along the last couple of weeks, I realised that I don't have the answers, and that these children aren't exactly 'normal' either. They are little Bonsai tree's of toxic belief systems and emotionally absent parents. They manipulate and feast off the carcass of emotional maturity like a savage beast that is driven by the ego. And then, my ego gets sucked into the same, and our ego's feast as my Higher Self sits and shakes her head at another lost battle.
What is normal anyway? Is lying normal when it involves hurting people you love? My gut instinct tells me these kids aren't normal children. Recently, their mother was informed by the youngest child, that I drove over his hand (which I obviously hadn't) and on further investigation found out he did it to make his mother angry. Mission accomplished!
When we asked why he would do such a thing, he admitted that he knew his mother would lash out at his father. He explained that (please sit down for the next part) he wanted to make his mother angry, who would in turn get his father into trouble and all for the sake of revenge because he was angry with his father for reprimanding him every morning for dawdling through the morning routine and fighting with his brother. (Insert psychosis here!)
The repercussions of parenting
After listening to and witnessing how two people can make children but not be accountable for their emotional well-being, due to their own lack of personal awareness, I'm sitting with two children in my life that have not only experienced a separation in their family as they knew it, but have never really had the role models they should have had, until now.
I've been made so aware that, although we have the best intentions for our children, if we are not whole, we cannot impart wholeness onto them and into their lives. If we are not emotionally stable, secure and growing, we cannot expect, emotionally stable, secure and developing children in our lives. What we put in to ourselves, really is what we get out in them.
I've witnessed how my positive, spiritual influence, my life lessons, my affirmations and guidance hasn't fallen on deaf ears. What you invest in your marriage, your partner, your children and your family will, for the most part, allow you will live in peace as everyone grows in their own time and at their own pace with a healthy, solid foundation.
My challenge is learning to stay positive in a seemingly depressing environment, with children who aren't my problem, children I didn't bring into this world or want in any shape or form in my life. My challenge is learning to be that positive influence when (almost always) I've checked out emotionally to prevent further hurt and protect myself from the pain and inconvenience they cause me.
How do we become the best versions of ourselves, and in turn, how do we stay the best version of ourselves as our children watch our motivation, lack thereof, our inspiration, depression, anxiety, frustrations, joys, victories and pain.
I look forward to doing this all again for my own flesh and blood, I imagine that it would be worth the sacrifice.
Right now, I'm incredibly grateful that school holidays are here, so that they don't have to be - and I'm okay with feeling that way.
It's not resentment, it's pure frustration.
Two little children twisted and mangled from years of poor guidance and absent parents. Today I was pushed past my boundaries.
The wheels fell off today
For the first time ever, I shed tears of pure frustration after delivering them safely to their daycare. Hours before this I'm feeding them, ensuring they are prepared for the day and allow for transparency and accountability in the space between home and not.
Dramalama
So there we were, about to leave the house and the youngest has his brothers car, remote control car that cost me a fortune, being dragged by a piece of nylon he's fastened to the undercarriage. This is how it all began, followed by excuses from the eldest that he's scared to confront his brother (if you knew the authoritative, dominant personality you'd also call bullshit) and of course another 5 minute debate about why their seat belts aren't on (again) in my car. They never do this in their fathers car.
The smirk that hurt more than a slap in the face
Our home is full of dangerous spiders that crop up from time to time. I don't normally kill spiders but these particular species can cause a lot of harm to children and animals so I insist we remove them.
Before we left the house I had asked the youngest if he had washed his face, brushed his teeth and hair and his hands. A resounding and confident "Yes!" came out of his mouth.
Just as we turned into the daycare mothers house, the eldest ejects his seat belt from it's fastened position. I SLAM on brakes, partially out of concern that one of the doors may be open and partially because my gut had told me one of them had done so on purpose.
True as nuts, the eldest had done so. Now livid, I insist he puts his belt on until he has come to a complete stop. They never do this with their father.
My wits end
As we arrive at the daycare gate, I see the youngest with pinched finger and thumb holding what looks like a bunch of black grass. "What on earth is that!", I exclaim. "It's a spiders nest," he retorts, "I found it on the wheel of the car."
At this point, I burst out laughing with disbelief. Just 3 days earlier we had explained to this 7 year old that the dangers of the spiders in our home are real and yet here he is with a spiders nest pinched between finger and thumb.
I get out of the vehicle and get to his side of the car. As he gets up his face and my eyes meet. Not only has he lied about having cleaned this morning, but his eyes are caked in sleep. The betrayal of knowing that he's not only lied to me, but lied so confidently cuts me to the core. He's irritated me, pushed me to breaking point and now this. Needless to say, I cried all the way to work. For the first time ever, I cried. I cried long, hard, real tears of frustration.
A reminder
Boundaries, I will not tolerate unacceptable behaviour and a round table meeting is about to commence. On the other side of frustration is love, on the other side of my sanity is a lack of boundaries. Time to get both back!
I've been rallying through this instant family role for a year now, properly since the beginning of this year (2015) all on my own steam, no one gets it, it's not encouraged, nor endorsed by anyone who knows, loves or meets me. People don't get this, not even I do.
I read a short Babble article this morning that just summed up all my emotions and put everything into perspective that's pretty much, what I call life at this moment.
I have no village.
During a very real chat with Daddio recently, I lay all my cards on the table about boundaries. I've found that resentment and fear are buddies, and that where there is resentment, there's most likely an underlying fear that someone or something is going to have to be sacrificed. A least in my mind.
Having identified this conflicting duo of emotions, I've managed to stop, take a meaningful breath and then ask myself, "What are you afraid of in this moment of resentment?"
Nine out of ten times, it is the fear of loss I'll endure, loss of something physical or precious that I've worked for. The other side is the fear of lack of appreciation I'll receive from anyone, lack of gratitude, being taken for granted, being resented back. Something may get damaged that I've worked hard for (when they sit swinging their legs on my new camping chairs on the lawn or perhaps I'm concerned that I'm at the bottom of the priority list as the last bits of my favourite mayonnaise are put up for auction to the highest bidder without my consideration and yes, it's just bloody mayonnaise, why do I act like it's important). I'm constantly wrestling with resentment and releasing it by speaking about my fears and concerns as they arise, which set me free from the burden of carrying them silently, sometimes for days.
Try discipline a child without raising your hands, your voice or asking yourself why you signed up for this. I've tried, been and done everything in my power, perhaps this is my emotional rock bottom, my cry for help.
I need a village, and my tribe is very, very small. I don't know anyone who is in the same position as I am. I'm gapping this and I may just be losing my mind.
Why am I putting myself through this?
So here I am, letting it all out. The toothpaste in our bathroom has been forced down into the basin drain by 6 year old fingers his solo game continues in silence.
Thousands of little germs greet his dirty fingers, the same ones he was meant to wash prior, along with the booger in his nose that needed to be removed. Yes, he's 6, I get it, but it's my basin too.
I stand watching from a distance as he takes his toothbrush and sweeps up the remains of our dirty basin (please don't act like yours is spotless 24/7) bringing the debris to his little mouth. It is in this moment I realise that my en-suite bathroom has been overthrown, my sanctuary and only place to hide has been taken over because two little boys have to be separated otherwise there are distractions and fighting and nothing really gets done. This is bullshit.
When I realise that he is in possession and alternating 2 toothpaste tubes (and neither are the junior brands I brought him last week), I in turn, realise is our tube of adult toothpaste.
He has now managed to mix up the only 2 tubes of toothpaste in our bathroom, one of which was for his exclusive use during a severe mouth infection he had two weeks ago. Now I know where my ulcer and sinus infection have come from *rolls eyes*.
My blood pressure starts to rise, I've been sick and perhaps this is the reason why. Perhaps, if these were my own biological children, my willingness to share bodily fluids with them, including germs and diseases, I wouldn't be so pissed. Why am I putting myself through this, why! I share my resentments, Daddio quickly takes the tubes back to their original bathroom. I'm sans toothpaste I can trust. Now would be a good time to tell me I'm being oversensitive.
Toughen up or leave
I will admit, that leaving this place I call home with two small manipulators with very obvious psychological issues, has become a very real option. It's not because I don't love their father, God knows how much I love their father, it's because I'm wondering if I've got what it takes to do this.
But maybe, this isn't about loving myself more, maybe it's learning to dance in the rain as they say, about setting boundaries in place and being happy - for the most part - without losing my own sense of identity.
So I made myself a priority. (Ha.)
It ends by starting anew
And this week I look forward to so many exciting new adventures, on my own, because that's what all women need, with or without a village, with or without offspring. They need time out, pampering, friends and that moment when you get to a set of traffic lights, get checked out by a cute guy next to you and feel that ziiiiiiiing of, "Yeah, I still got it!".
So I've set out a date for myself, all my needs cannot be fulfilled by everyone in my life, so I'm making my own list and prioritizing myself once again. I'm seeing old friends for lunch and coffee dates that I've failed to prioritize over the last year, I've got a gym date with my bestie (me) I'm starting to drink green tea, with the intention of getting my sexy, un-mommied body back in shape - because that's what I signed up for. For independence, for self preservation, for date nights and movies and memories. Sorry Daddio, it's not personal, well it is, but not like that :)
Not because I'm selfish, but because I'm worth it. Not because you don't make me happy but because you can't give me everything I need, all of the time, and that wouldn't be sensible to expect anyone on this planet to make me (or you) whole. As my dad always says, "Life is a Do It Yourself Job".
No one gives 100% of their effort, 100% of their time to 100% of anything - it's not possible. Balance will set me free, balance is the answer, balance is the difference between expecting to be priority and then commanding it when the time is right.
Balance cannot allow resentment to come into play when balance allows for new adventures, stimulus and experiences. Time out, time away - without romance, without partners, without even being angry about it. Simply, just - for - you! So you can grow, so you can live, so you can create your own memories, experiences and identity.
Balance is in my own hands. Maybe then, people will stop asking me what I'm still doing with a man and his two children and all their baggage. An ex and her shopping list of tendencies to give less f#$%s than anyone I know about her responsibilities.
And perhaps when I'm smiling again because I've sorted myself out - everyone will realise, including myself, that love is enough and boundaries are everything.
I think it's probably a culmination of a couple of things but it's safe to say I may just have reached an emotional breakdown.
After my last post - Broody,Guilty,Mad - it seems I've opened up Pandora's box to a recessive memory bank that has been burst open with past recollections, emotions and, yes, guilt.
Resentment emanates from every one of my pores. Suddenly the fun, loving mother I'm trying to be has been replaced with an ogre, a silent ogre, but ogre-ish nonetheless.
So how did I get here again?
This time it feels different. Littlest one comes to me in the kitchen and starts reciting how, "mommy drank lots of wine when I was in her tummy", the lead up from our dinner table family time where he had shared his dreams of abduction and monsters. I'm mad as hell all over again.
I dart back and forth between these emotions, like an mental institute outpatient. Seriously, I'm battling to find the normality in my circumstance and if this needs to be said then I'll admit that I'm really not coping. There, happy?
We pack away the dishes and the kids are now both standing in the small space we could call a scullery, even the cat has managed to weave his way through 8 legs attached to the bodies towering above him.
The eldest is included in this conversation and I share memories of how daddy had invited me to see him as a 3 week old newborn. I held him in my arms and with each gurgle, I held back tears of remorse - I was envious then, but relieved that his wayward daddy wasn't part of my picture, I was going places remember?
I was 22 at the time, it could have been our child, but it wasn't and I had buried that notion and decided to celebrate his new family with him, instead of make this about me and my issues. The ex, even back then, snatched her new child from my arms. She never did like me, alas, I digress.
As we swap stories of their individual births, I'm suddenly isolated by the disconnected memories that have nothing to do with me. His words cut to my soul as he spoke about cutting their umbilical cords, how the youngest was 3 months premature and stillborn and how doctors had resuscitated him in surgery. Daddy stands there enacting dangled, lifeless arms and my rage toward the circumstance is fueled once more.
I knew all the facts, but every time I heard them, it I feel branded, tarnished and disembodied. They always felt like dirty secrets, beautiful little souls with a dirty parental secret - the drugs, the alcohol, the still birth. Yet, here I was standing in this conversation feeling like the glitch in their family tree, the rotten apple in the midst of their perceived awesomeness. It was all a lie, yet it felt so authentic every time I heard him speak.
It all went pear shaped thereafter
By now the feelings and questions have returned. Why did this have to happen? Why did we have to share a 7 week old fetus that was supposed to, or at least could have been a 15 year old by now. A 15 year old reminder of love, a bond, a lifelong connection.
I could feel the fury burning in me, the tears welling up from my throat, never mind my eyeballs.
We tuck the kids in for the evening, love is shared, kisses and prolonged hugs that linger long after they are received. It is time now to go over legal documents and I can feel my mood souring very quickly, I'm expecting foul play - as always.
His approach is careless and with it his attention to detail. He is not bothered with fighting over 'menial things' like dates and times, he omits necessary specifics in his agreement that leave me even more bitter and resentful. She wants everything on her terms and has done very little to return, sustain or even be present in their lives - but she wants the kids, she wants to cut daddy out to the point that she gets away with it it all.
My childish retort just came out of nowhere
By now I'm snappy, I don't mean to be disrespectful but daddy's contesting my insistence to include exact dates for school holiday delivery and collections. I know it's going to come back and bite us if we don't. He doesn't see the point, "This affects me, me and my life too!", I growl at him. I should have just stopped there, I won't share my personal low, I'll just tell you that I threatened to leave when I shouldn't have. It's a pet peeve when people threaten to leave, but it came out of my mouth. He lay on the bed facing the ceiling and remained in the same position while I sobbed in the shower.
We went to bed in silence. We woke in silence.
A cold shoulder with civility and moments of a polite "Good morning" and "Have a good day". I feel I've failed.
This too shall pass
So while I spent the most of this morning in tears, I have, through puffy eyes and swollen nose, managed to track down a therapist. In doing so, my thoughts return to a friend who is in a similar situation. Although we are close, I won't discuss it with her, I like keeping my wounds hidden and as I lick them in private, possibly causing more damage as I brood.
Everyone has that one person that has the answers, maybe not by qualification, maybe not even through experience. But just as I was about to put my foot in the shower, the very same friend picks up the phone and as I answer, squeezes in a "What's wrong?" as I say "Hello". There is a support team waiting for you, if you're willing to be (even more) vulnerable to receiving help.
I decide to share my hurts and pain with daddy, he holds my hand sympathetically as I weep. It's all too much, I miss him, I miss us. This is all supposed to be our honeymoon period of our relationship and the reminders of my own failings haunt me as I learn to live with someone else's children.
They should have been mine, ours, his with me.
As the night comes to an end I think I literally heard God whisper to me, "I never said it would be easy, I said it would be worth it". It's going to be alright, I'm exactly where I'm meant to be.
Tomorrow is a brand new day to be an awesome step-in mom.
Let's do this.
