Would you have picked up this week’s issue of Time if the photo was of Dr. Sears (attachment parenting’s guru)? Probably not.

Let the bitch fight begin.

You’ve undoubtedly seen this week’s cover of Time Magazine.  A provocative photo of a young 20-something mother nursing her toddler son with the caption, “Are you Mom Enough?” has caused our inner-bitches to throw down UFC style and come out swinging.

Many of the mothers who didn’t breastfeed immediately went on the defensive.  The same women who don’t want to be judged because they didn’t breastfeed are now judging this woman on the cover that chooses to breastfeed her toddler.  And when Scary Mommy posted a tongue-in-cheek spoof on her Facebook page with the caption “Working Mothers are Failures” and “Does Formula Harm Babies? Mothers, unable or unwilling to breastfeed, resort to formula for nourishment.  Let’s rip them apart”, all Hell broke loose.  The comments I’ve read online have been rude and have bordered on just plain hateful.  And what’s ironic is that most of those who are commenting online don’t have any idea that the article is about attachment parenting, not about demonizing those who didn’t breastfeed.

Yes, the photo and the caption are provocative, but have we forgotten that Time is in the business of selling magazines?  I would venture to guess that there has been more buzz about Time in the last 24 hours than there has been in the last 10 years. I posted the cover on my Facebook wall the minute I saw it.  Why? Because I endured major criticism from strangers, friends and even my mother about choosing to breastfeed my two oldest children beyond the “acceptable” one-year mark.  My nursed my son until he was 4 and my daughter until she was 3 (the worldwide age for weaning is 4). The majority of Americans don’t understand that nursing a toddler is very different from nursing an infant.  An infant nurses primarily for nutrition.  A toddler nurses for bonding time.  My toddlers nursed when I got home from work, before they went to bed and occasionally when they were hurt or sad.  They are now 16 and 9, and neither of them remember nursing as toddlers and have grown into confident, well-adjusted, healthy kids.  And, contrary to what my mother said when he was 3, my teenage son does not have an unhealthy fascination with boobs.   Every time I see a woman breastfeeding a toddler, I approach her and tell her what a great job she’s doing. Hopefully my encouragement makes her forget the stares and nasty comments from perfect strangers.

But, back to the real issue.  The article is about attachment parenting, not about breastfeeding vs formula feeding.    Here’s my message to both camps:  instead of being defensive about how we choose to feed our infants, let’s be thankful that we have a choice.  In most of the world, breastfeeding is a matter of life and death.  As Americans, we are fortunate to have access to clean water, which by the way, benefits both nursing and non-nursing babies alike.  We are also fortunate to have programs like WIC to help mothers feed their babies because formula isn’t exactly affordable. 

Parenting is a process.  It’s fluid.  It changes from day to day, year to year and from child to child.  Take a moment and find out what attachment parenting is all about and you’ll understand the question, “Are You Mom Enough?” It takes an incredbile commitment level to live out attachment parenting to its fullest—especiallly in our American culture. I’ve been luckily enough to experience the full-spectrum in a few parenting “adventures”: birth with medication and natural childbirth, breastfeeding my children as toddlers and having to stop nursing my youngest at 3 months and start formula feeding, being a biomom and a stepmom, being a SAHM to a working mom to a mom with a home office.  None of it is easy.   I’ve incorporated bits and pieces of attachment parenting, learned from books, the internet and most importantly other mothers.  No one way is right for any mom, any child or any family. Here’s the bottom line: it’s not about whether you breastfeed, use cloth diapers, feed your baby only organic food, and co-sleep. What’s important is that you raise confident children that grow into well-adjusted, non-judgmental adults the best way you can. Let’s all stop being defensive and angry.  Let’s bond and get the village together so we can raise these kids.  And finally, let’s all read the article before we start throwing punches.

What was your first reaction when you saw the Time cover?  Has anyone ever been critical of your parenting style (as a biomom or a stepmom)?  Do you really care if a mother breastfeeds or formula-feeds her baby?  Have you heard of attachment parenting before today?

"My name is Brigette, and I'm a BioStepMom."

I like Mormons.  I’m Catholic, so admire the LDS hyper-focus on family, and truth be known, I’m jealous of their mega-pantries.  With a potential Republican presidential nominee on the horizon, the “…and I’m a Mormon” ads are all over TV.  I got to thinking, wouldn’t it be fun to have an “…and I’m a Stepmom” campaign?  The goal of the campaign would be to humanize stepmothers and show that we are neither wicked nor evil. Think about it.  Of course I’ve written mine already!  Here it is:

When I found myself divorced at 40-years old with two children, I never imagined that I would become part of a blended family.  Now we have a busy “yours, mine and ours” family of three kids full-time, a total of five every other weekend and most of the time, a couple of extras kids here and there. 

I’m a firm believer that four is the magic number.  Once you get to four kids, it doesn’t matter if you have ten.  They all start to form their own little village.

The rules of my house are simple:  be nice to each other, pick up after yourself and help your younger siblings. 

My kids like to add to our family.  They have lots of friends that they consider part of our family.  My 9-year old daughter will tell you she has six sisters and three brothers.  I guess that’s my influence.  My father’s side is from Hawaii.  We believe in ‘ohana.

I believe it takes a village to raise a child.  And I’ve got a big village.

My name is Brigette.  I work full-time. I’m a compulsive multi-tasker and I’m a BioStepMom.

What would your 30-seconds look like?  Please share in the comments section.

Not loving your stepchildren can make you feel guilty

A post that I wrote in March 2011 has been getting a lot of hits lately and stirring up all kinds of feelings. “Taboo Topics: Things that Stepmothers Don’t Want to Say Out Loud” was a three-part post based on a conversation I had with Heather Hetchler on The Stepmom Connection. The first topic was, “I fell in love with my husband, not my stepkids”.

More than a few stepmothers have had a “Thank God, I thought I was the only one” moment after reading the post and comments. And then, at the complete opposite end of the spectrum, there are the indignant women that believe if you don’t love the kids, you should stay away from the man.

Some stepmothers love their stepchildren as much as they love their biological children. And then, there’s the rest of us experiencing a range of feelings towards our stepchildren, but not love. Yes, kids were part of the package. Yes, we knew that going in. If we didn’t already love our stepchildren, we hoped that those feelings would develop over time. And for some of us, it just hasn’t happened yet and for a few of us, it never will. But even the women who openly admit to not loving their stepchildren still treat them with kindness. We love our husbands, and the children are part of him, so we do our best by them, just as we would for any child.

Loving a man, but not his children is puzzling to us. We think to ourselves, “As a woman, shouldn’t I feel instantaneously maternal towards them?” If we don’t we think, “What the heck is wrong with me?” In a word: nothing. There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s no reason to feel guilty. Give yourself time and be open to the possibility of love yet be prepared if it doesn’t happen. You can care for your stepchild his/her entire life and never really fall in love with them or have the same love as you do for your biological children. It’s totally normal. And based on the comments on the original post, it’s more common that you think.

If you’re a stepmother who grew to love her stepchildren over time, please share how your relationship with your stepchild evolved and tell us when you knew your feelings had changed.

Pick your battles

There’s a discussion group on Facebook that typically has lots of fireworks between BMs and SMs (the group is open to both).  I watch the heated discussions, but rarely post.  In a recent thread, an SM said she was thankful for the group and was hoping for better relations with BM.  The BM replied with the same argument that we’ve all heard:  don’t call me BM, it’s the same abbreviation as “Bowel Movement” and the term “Biological Mother” is more appropriate for women that have given up their children.

Here’s an SM publicly holding out an olive branch and the BM takes issue with an abbreviation.  And we wonder why BMs and SMs can’t get along? 

BMs that take issue with “BM” listen up, “BM” and “SM” are acronyms that are commonly used when writing on the internet.  Other acronyms include:

                                                                                                                                                                                          SD = Stepdaughter          BD=Biological Daughter

SS=Stepson                        BS=Biological Son

SK=Stepkids                       BK=Biological Kids

DH=Dear Husband           BF=Boyfriend

Sure we could write out “my husband’s ex-wife” or “the mother of my stepchildren” or use your first and last name, but  c’mon.  Pick your battles.  We all know who the mom and the stepmom is in the relationship.  “BM” and “SM” are internet/texting shorthand terms and in all honesty, are probably a lot better than what the other women would like to call you some of the time.  Furthermore, if you’re using terms like “lol”, “omw”, “cya”, “btw” or “jk”, you should probably think twice about criticizing the use of “BM” or “SM”. 

Let’s focus more on building working relationships with the BM or SM in our lives to make things easier for the children instead of taking offense over internet acronyms.  JS (just sayin’).

Not a suggested role, for obvious reasons.

As stepmothers, we often have a hard time deciding how to approach our role as the new “female lead in a dramatic series”. Custodial stepmothers usually chose the role of “mom”, but for those of us that have our stepchildren every other weekend (or some other non-custodial situation), choosing an appropriate role is a bit more difficult.  Add in your own biological children and it gets even more confusing.

 Here are some stand-in roles that have been suggested to many of us.  See if any of these describe you:

The Cool Aunt:  You are probably around the same age as the biomom but you are her polar opposite. 

Discipline:  Like any Cool Aunt, you have your limits, but most of the time, you let stuff slide.

Advantage:  The kids look forward to their weekends with you to do different things than what they would do at home.  Arts and crafts, dancing to world music, hiking in the woods, you are a source of new adventures! 

Disadvantage:  The biomom will either embrace the fact that the children are learning new skills and are being exposed to new things or she will be insanely jealous and either criticize those things or try to compete by “one-upping” you.  It could get ugly.

The Big Sister:  You are probably much younger than the biomom and not much older than the kids.  You have boundless energy and you’re very enthusiastic.

Discipline:  You don’t have to worry about discipline at all because Dad will take care of it!

Advantage:  The kids think “Dad’s new wife” is totally cool!  You get to do all the fun stuff with the kids; what’s not to love?

Disadvantage:  At first, it’s all fun and games, but then the kids get older and realize that you’re The Stepmother in disguise.  The tide may change.  Never mind that the biomom already dislikes the fact that she got traded in for a younger model. 

The Sweet Granny:  You see the world through rose-colored glasses.  Your stepchildren can do no wrong!

Discipline:  Discipline?  What’s that??  You love those children so much and you just know that any bad or inappropriate behavior can be contributed to the hurt of the divorce which you know you can heal through your endless love.

Advantage:  The kids LOVE the fact they have control of the household. 

Disadvantage:  The kids have control of the household.  And most of the time, you end up as a doormat.

The Babysitter: You married a man with children but you have no emotional investment in them. 

Discipline:  When the kids act up, you thank God they’re not your children. Your disciplinary plan:  “Wait ‘til your father gets home!”

Advantage:  They show up.  It’s a “free-for-all” weekend.  They leave.  Everyone’s happy, especially DH.

Disadvantage:  You have to put up with way more back talk than any babysitter would ever have to and to make matters worse, you don’t get paid.

Obviously these are tongue-in-cheek descriptions but most of us have taken on a few of these roles to see what fits best and still we come back to The Stepmother, a role that has yet to be universally defined.  However, there does seem to be one nagging universal truth to this role:  we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t.    If we try to love the kids like they’re our own, we’re accused of trying to take over the BM’s role.  If we admit to not loving them like they’re our own, we’re labeled as heartless shrews.  If we treat them like our own children, we’re criticized for trying to act like a mom to them.  If we treat them differently, we’re accused of playing favorites.  Often times, it feels like a no-win situation with every move being analyzed by a cast of characters that all have their own agenda.  I think I speak for most non-custodial stepmoms when I say that all we really want to do is support DH in the raising of his children, yet finding a comfortable place in how we deal with and interact with our stepchildren is so very difficult.

What kind of role have you taken on as a stepmother?  How long did it take you to find a role that suited you?

So many times during the month of June, I find myself curled in a ball, bawling my eyes out, but this June was a little bit better.  It’s been 9 years since my father and grandfather have passed.  How do I know?  I look at my middle daughter.  I was pregnant when my dad died and 6 weeks postpartum when my grandfather died.  Every year I say to myself, “This is the year to heal,” and every year I fall desperately short.  This year was better.  Finally. 

"This one is for Papa!" my daughter said before she went on stage.

My father was born in Hawai’i and I’ve made sure that my kids stay in touch with Hawaiian culture by having them dance in a halau (hula school).  My 8-year old is the consummate performer of my brood and has been lighting up luaus since she was 3.  My 3-year old performed a couple times last year, but has had a major case of performance anxiety this year.  She would be excited about going to practice and then proceed to cry and refuse to dance.  It just so happened that on June 11^th, the 9^th anniversary of my father’s death, our halau was dancing at a luau.  My 3-year old proclaimed boldly that she would dance, and when the time came, she did a Tahitian number with the rest of her hula sisters.  Her big sister and I were so proud that she finally broke through her fear. Perhaps he was the guardian angel on her shoulder, giving her the confidence she needed to perform.   Instead of spending the day in tears (like I normally would), I was given a wonderful opportunity to quietly celebrate my father’s life by watching my girls dance.  It was bittersweet.  He’s the grandpa that my girls will never know except through photos and stories.  He would have been 67 this year. 

And ironically enough, I’m posting this on June 29^th which would have been my grandfather’s 97^th birthday.  He would have been equally tickled watching his great-granddaughters’ dance (my mom and aunt were both professional Polynesian dancers). 

The loss of a parent deeply affects a child, even an adult child.  Healing takes time.  I’ve come a long way in nine years, but I still have so much farther to go. 

Have you lost a parent?  How do you remember or celebrate his/her life?  How do you keep his/her memory alive for your children?

We're not "broken". We're more like Good Seasons Italian Dressing.

Recently, DH had a few days in which he had to care for his girls during the week.  For us that means 5 kids, 4 different schools in three different school districts and a plethora of afterschool activities all happening simultaneously.   Since I’m still in “step-back” mode and because the schedules of my 3 children are overwhelming enough, DH was his own.  He had to make lunches, drive them to school, pick them up and take them to their after-school activities while working a more-than-full-time job.  Getting home late one night, he looked at me and said, “How do real families do this every day?” 

Wait.  Did he just say “real” families?  He did.  When I pointed that out, he said, “You know what I mean.  Original families, not families that are broken like ours.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically or smack him upside the head because of the two issues that jumped right out.  First of all, has he not watched me manage the schedules of my 3 children?  If you’re a mom with busy kids or if you’ve ever been a single mom, you know where I’m coming from.  My son swims almost 20 hours a week and my daughter dances 3 times a week.  I manage both of their weekly schedules not to mention meets, shows and the occasional birthday party or sleep over on the weekends, I work full-time and take care of our 3-year old, and he’s going to complain about getting home late one night??  I think he just figured out how hard it is to be a mom. 

The second issue which made me want to smack him is he called us “broken”.  Broken.  This from the man with the biggest pair of rose-colored glasses I’ve ever seen. You’d think he would have picked a better/different word.   I know what he meant: “broken family” is equal to “kids from divorced families”.  But when those same kids join a stepfamily, do you refer to the stepfamily as “broken family”?  I think not.

I’ve heard stepfamilies called several different things: crockpot families, salad bowl families, blended families. With DH labeling us a “broken family”, I got to thinking:  how would I describe our family?   I think at this point in time, our family (two his, two mine, one ours) is best described as an “Italian dressing family”:  we can blend together for short periods and act like a first family (what DH refers to as a “real family”), but over time, we separate again.  Would I like us to eventually become a fully emulsified creamy Ranch dressing family?  Yes.  But it’s going to take time.  In the grand scheme of the universe, we are a fledgling stepfamily.  We’ve only been at this for 5 years and despite our enthusiasm and good intentions, we know that blending our families is a process that doesn’t come with a timeline. 

How would you describe your family?  You can stick with the food analogies for fun!  How does using the term “broken” to describe your family resonate with you?

Postscript:  When I told DH about this post, he said, “I have to say that moms are incredible.  You’ve got a knack that men just don’t have.   I seriously don’t know how you do what you do every day.”  Then he took his club and his bearskin and went back to his cave.

My new url is: www.stepintheblender.com. The old url will redirect you to the new url, so no worries!

Stepping into the blender is a courageous thing to do.

Thanks for reading!

Do you ever feel like youre drowning, but youre too proud to ask for help?

This song has been playing over and over in my brain as I’ve been taking care of 3 kids (ages 15, 8 and 3) who have all been sick for the last two weeks.  I thought we were out of the woods last night, until my 8-year old daughter came running down the stairs to tell me that my 3-year daughter had just barfed all over herself.  My reaction?  I laughed.  After two weeks, projectile bodily fluids are now comedy instead of tragedy. 

What I’d really like is someone to put on a hazmat suit and take care of my infected offspring so I can have a cup of coffee and read a book in a place where no one is coughing, sneezing or barfing for 30 minutes or someone to just entertain them so I can get to the pile of dishes and never-ending loads of laundry.  What I’d like is some H-E-L-P.

Yesterday, in two different places, I came across the question: what’s your biggest challenge as a mom?  My challenge as a single mom was the same as my challenge as a married mom:  asking for help.   There are a few reasons why it’s so incredibly hard for me.  See if any of these ring true for you:

1.  My first husband was always very critical anytime I’d ask for help with the kids while we were married and is even more so now that we’re divorced.  He made me feel like I wasn’t doing my duty as a mom if I needed an hour break to go run to Starbucks, grab a latte and recharge or if I asked him for help getting two kids to two different places at the same time (I know, physically impossible right? But somehow he expected me to be able to get them both there on time).
2. Because of the guilt trip that my ex puts on me, I don’t like to ask DH for help with my two oldest because I feel that they’re my responsibility because they’re not biologically his.  He doesn’t feel that way at all, but I always feel guilty asking him to do things like watch the kids so I can meet a girlfriend for dinner or to pickup my son at practice so I can stay home and hang out with my two youngest (one of which is our BC).
3. I am stubborn.  I want to be Super Mom/Wonder Woman and get it all done myself, but the truth is, I can’t.  Once I admit that I need help, I feel like a failure and that the Mom Police are going to arrest me for not giving it my all even though I’ve got absolutely nothing left give.  Ever feel like that?

If I had family close by, it probably wouldn’t be such an issue for me, but everyone lives a few states away.  What I learned quickly as a single mom was that I needed to swallow my pride and ask for help from the friends that kept offering.  I had two issues:  often times I needed help getting my kids to their activities when they were scheduled at the same time and sometimes, I just needed a break.  The first time I asked for help was hard, so hard in fact that I would have rather asked someone to pay my mortgage than admit that I needed help with transportation or just a break from my kids.  Early on, I didn’t ask for help often, but when I did, my kids and I both came back home recharged. 

Fast-forward five years and now I’m much better at asking for help.  DH and I have been lucky to have a trio of babysitters (whom we consider family) that will watch the kids at a moment’s notice or even do drop-offs and pick-ups, and I’m a bit more comfortable asking my in-laws for help.  DH has helped me get over the “my kids, my responsibility” hang-up by showing me time and time again that he’s completely committed to my children.   And most importantly, I’ve gotten my ex-husband’s voice out of my head and I know that I’m not any less of a mom for needing or taking a break. 

Whether you’re a single mom or married mom, how do you feel about asking for help?  Do you feel guilty about needing a break from your kids or asking for help with transportation or childcare? Do you rely on family or do you have a good support system of friends that are able to help you?