I text the head of the Young Adult Ministry at church to confirm our family’s attendance to the snow tubing trip they are hosting Saturday.  (Her and her husband already know that our RSVP are late because it depends on if we have my bonus children) I began to get excited.  I have wanted to take all of my children snow tubing ever since I went a few years back.  This was my chance.  I was like a kid on Christmas Day.  I was SUPER excited.

Friday 2/17/12

Two of my three bonus children came that weekend.  My husband picked up my sons (my daughter had plans) from school and kept the snow tubing a secret.  I totally forgot to tell my husband to tell the children to make sure they pack warm and bring boots but I figured we would make do.  We were going to have a blast!

Saturday 2/18/12

SNOW TUBING!! My husband had a meeting at church so we were going to leave when he finished which was about an hour after the church group left for the trip.  I was so excited!  I got the kids ready.  I did Naomi’s hair.  I got myself ready. I told the boys to pack an extra pair of pants and to layer their tops.  (I was going to have them put the other pants on when we got there or change into them when we were finished).  I pulled out Naomi’s snow pants and boots.  I packed water and a snack for all of us.

One of my sons didn’t have a coat.  He thought he had it with him but couldn’t find it when we were getting ready to go.  Fine.  Where one of Daddy’s.  My other son didn’t have a hat.  Fine.  Where one of the ones in the closet.  The first son I mentioned said he had a hat and he did…a baseball cap.  No son.  That won’t do.  Where one of the ones in the closet.  I was coming downstairs to shew everyone out the door into the car when my husband says, “Ness! Look at that boy’s shoes,” referring to my oldest son the one who didn’t have a hat. “He can’t wear those!” I look down at my son’s feet.  He was wearing dress shoes.  I ask my son, “You didn’t pack any other shoes?”  ”No,” he replied.

A flicker of hope. I have a solution.  I run upstairs and pull out a pair of black tennis shoes someone gave me for Naomi but they are way too big for her.  They are a size 3.  I ask my son and he says he wears a size 6.  My husband said he can’t wear shoes that are too small for him.

That’s it. We can’t go.  All because my son, who ALWAYS has tennis shoes with him because he is almost ALWAYS wearing them, didn’t bring them this time.

I’m crushed.

We were completely ready to go.  I had the address of the location already in my GPS.  All I had to do was grab Naomi’s snow pants and my pocketbook.

I went upstairs in our bedroom and cried and laughed at the same time.

I truly cracked up.  I was crying as much as I was laughing.  All I could say was SHOES!! REALLY! TENNIS SHOES! THAT’S WHY I CAN’T GO SNOW TUBING BECAUSE THE BOY DIDN’T BRING HIS TENNIS SHOES!!???!!!

I was beside myself at the shear stupidity of the whole thing.  Something that small was so serious to keep me from fulfilling my desire.

My husband came up to try to console me but it wasn’t happening.  I had to work through the emotion.  I was beyond disappointed.

No. My husband did not want to go to Target to get a pair of shoes so we could go.  No. The boy was not going to get a new pair of tennis out of the deal for forgetting his shoes.  No. He had no idea we were going snow tubing.  No. He did not know he missed out on anything because even after we couldn’t go, my husband and I did not tell them where we were going. Yes.  The boy ALWAYS has tennis shoes with him.  If nothing else, him and his mother over pack.  But this weekend, THIS WEEKEND, he wears his dress shoes to school and has NO OTHER SHOE in his bag.

Sunday 2/19/12

I give the same speech Sunday after Sunday.  ”Make sure you have everything! Pack up all of your belongings.  Do you have all of your Wii games, movies, toys, clothes, hat, bag,” etc etc etc? But it never fails.  IT NEVER EVER FAILS that my sons forget something.  This time, my oldest son left his jacket in the back seat of the van.  The boy just got in the van that morning knowing full well we were meeting his mother at church.  Why he felt the need to hang his jacket on the hook in the backseat, I’ll never know.  Why he did not remember that he put the jacket right next to his head hanging from the hook in the car in the backseat where he was sitting, I’ll never know.  I didn’t see the jacket until I was getting out of the car when we returned home after church service.

My other son outdid his brother.  He forgot everything. His tennis shoes were left downstairs in the shoe rack. His weekend bag was in the back of the van.  My husband took him to his mother after church in his car.  I had his belongings in the van.  Neither I nor my husband thought about moving his belongings to the car.  We usually have the bags in the correct car in the first place.  It wasn’t until my husband pulls up to meet his mother that my son says, “Pops? Do you have my bag?” My son’s explanation was he thought my husband got his bag and put it in the trunk of the car.  Why he didn’t confirm that thought prior to leaving the church, I don’t know.

So, at some point tomorrow my son’s mother said she’s going to “work something out” to get his belongings.  I hope that is not code for we drive 45 minutes down to her house because that is SO not happening.  Certainly not with the weekend I just had.

There is not enough help for bonus moms!  When I first started this blog, I assumed I was just a speck in an already populated pond of bloggers on the subject.  NOT SO!  I googled bonus mom blogs and I found two blogs, TWO, that were dedicated to bonus moms.  I googled stepmom blogs and more than two showed up.

In my opinion, referring to oneself as step mom is NOT the same as referring to oneself as bonus mom.  Finding a Christian bonus mom blog is pert near non-existent!  I googled Christian bonus mom and guess what popped up?  This blog. Positions one and two were amaness.wordpress.com posts.

That was severely depressing even more so with the past four weeks I’ve had.  The last four weeks have been filled with advice that don’t fit my non-cookie cutter life.  The advice I received was good but was not applicable to me.  I kept searching for something out there that was applicable to me and couldn’t find anything.  When you are parched in spirit and just want someone to have written something that shows the other side of what you are going through and you don’t find it, it makes you feel worse than you did when you first started looking.  There seems to be a never-ending supply of advice for everyone else except you and your circumstance(s).

That is where I need your help.  Up until now, I have not advertised this blog nor (aside from  Facebook and Twitter links) tried to promote it.  I am asking for you to help me promote this blog.  Bonus moms need help. Several parts of this walk are very hard.  Honesty, authenticity, and transparency are very important if any woman expects to survive it in tact. It’s not easy being the first one to jump out there and spill her guts out but if it helps another woman not feel so isolated than it is totally worth it.

With that, I humbly ask that if you have enjoyed a particular post or enjoy the blog in general, please forward a link to other bonus moms as you have opportunity.  Aside from my spouse, this blog has been a covert operation for me.  Readers that I know personally have had to speak to me in code or in low tones if they wanted to discuss something about it with me in public.  That is just how gun-shy I was about it so any form of publicity is a tremendous amount of “action cures fear” at work here.  My personal action to help promote this blog will be to add a link to the blog as my signature on my emails. That is a HUGE step for me.

It is my earnest plea that this blog reaches the thirsty souls of women who just want to hear from another woman who understands.

Yesterday, my two-year old daughter informed me she was going upstairs with her grandmother.  I said ok.  She got to the landing on the third step, turned and looked at me and said, “Don’t be up and set. No crying. No whining. I’m okay. No worries”, all with her hand raised and her neck swiveling.

This evening, my sister informs me that, in response to a no response she just received, my child told her, “I don’t care.  I get my own!” This was followed by an eye roll.

I could go on with the things this child does.  I can’t blame anyone but me.  She gets it all from me.  Granted, the way she expresses it is not exactly how I express it to her.  I do tend to swivel my neck when she has plucked my last nerve.  I do hold my hand up and say “oh no no no ma’am”.  When she tells me she won’t give me any kisses I do say “I don’t care!  I’ll get my own!” and I tickle and kiss her until Mommy is satisfied.  ”No crying.  No whining. No whimpering” is a daily mantra here.  ”No worries. You are okay. Don’t be upset” are frequently used to settle nerves and calm emotions.

All of that comes out jumbled and sounds like a mean adult when it comes out of her.  And the first question on everyone’s lips?  ”Who taught her that?” or “Where did she get that from?”  My answer? “She get it from her Momma” (Yes. I say it just like Juvenile does in his song).

There is no one else to blame but me. There is no one else to point fingers too.  She does pick up a few things from her siblings when they visit but those habits are typically gone within a week.  She is not around any one person even a fraction of the time she spends with me.

If she can count to 20, I did it.  If she can recite a Bible verse, I did it.  If she can put chapstick on by herself, I did it.  If she growls when she is frustrated, I did it.  If she looks at you like you’re crazy when she is told to do something she doesn’t want to do, I did it.  If she can zip up her coat all by herself, I did it.

SAHM = all of the blame and all of the glory at the same time.  Why? Because she ALWAYS gets it from her Momma!

Today, I noticed that I have slight irritation about my view of our daily parental involvement. I called my husband this evening and invited him to become more involved with our daughters routine (bath time, reading time, pickups/drop-offs etc).  The conversation did not go the way I expected.  My tone was loving and my word choice was not accusatory.  In hindsight, my timing could have been better.  However, the reason for me speaking about this now was to prevent me blowing up about it later on.   The first 15-20 words of my husband’s response was very honest and I did not appreciate anything about what he said.  Words 16/21 through 1000 were much more palatable but could hardly placate my seething furry at words 1-15/20.

After our conversation, I had some time to think.  I was driving in the car by myself and started to pray aloud.  Those twenty minutes in the car gave me a very clear, real, truthful view of the decisions I’ve made.

I’ve said before that the decisions you make today can greatly or gravely affect your life years from now whether you realize it or not.  Well, now, I am on the wrong side of that fence.

A little more than two years ago, one evening, I was straightening up a bit and my husband said he was going to give Naomi a bath. I asked him not to.  I told him I really enjoyed giving her a good cleaning at night especially after she had a busy day because I knew she was good and dirty.  He said ok. I can count the number of times he has volunteered to bathe her since.

Almost a year ago, I just started homeschooling Naomi.  One day, my husband sat down and started to teach her some of her lesson.  He was doing bits and pieces of what he knew I go over with her.  I had yet to do the lesson for the day.  Instead of just letting it happen, I decided to give him a tutorial on how I do the lesson so he could emulate that.  I wanted him to do the whole lesson and not a hodge-podge of sorts.  He stopped the lesson and said, “Your Mommy will teach you”.  He’s not taught her a lesson since.

It’s easy to create a box.  One word.  One phrase then boom!  Instant box.  Want out of that box? One word. One phrase.  Followed by many words. Pleadings. Many phrases.  Long spans of time.  May never change.

I couldn’t stay mad at him.  Heck, I created the box that I live in.  I can only ask God to let me learn, grow, and change as I lean on Him as He guides me through each unpleasantness of my decisions long ago.

This past week, God dealt with me concerning necessary confrontations.  I hate confrontations of any kind and would prefer never to have to call anyone out on anything.  Unfortunately, life is not like that.  I have gotten better in this area but I am still shocked that some things require me speaking to it before it changes.  I don’t understand why people think it is okay for them to increasingly step out-of-bounds and be shocked when they are confronted about it?

Over the weekend, my husband was disrespected by the mother of two of my bonus children.  I witnessed it and I heard what was said. My nerve was plucked.  I confronted her. It did not go well.  I was not expecting to have a kumbaya experience with her but I did expect to be heard.  I was not heard.  I was given a run-on explanation of her decisions and I was hung up on when I began my response.  After being hung up on twice, I communicated my thoughts through text.

(I’ve been mulling it all over, over and over again in my mind since the incident occurred. I am truly dumbfounded. Hanging up? Really?  People still do that?  I thought we were grown women?  Hanging up on folk is middle school behavior.  That behavior let me know that I am not dealing with an adult here.  A person can have the age and the responsibilities of an adult but those two things do not make one an adult.  I am not sure how to listen, take in, and respond in truth to someone like this.  I don’t associate on a voluntary basis with anybody who exhibits this behavior.  I am truly at a loss.)

As this incident was on repeat in my mind, I continued to go to God in prayer about it.  Just this evening, I laid out all the cards on the table to Him.  I just need to know that I was/am still pleasing to Him.  I need to know that despite the outcome of the incident that He is still pleased with me; that the juvenile response I received does not mean that He is disappointed by my actions.

This is where confrontations are uncomfortable for me.  The aftermath.  Addressing this woman has been a long time coming.  I want assurance from God that although this post confrontation period is uncomfortable, it does not mean that He is displeased with me.

At one point, I dreaded my bonus children’s birthdays.  There was so much drama surrounding it all.  The custodial parent controlled the planning and activities but wanted the non-custodial parent to “help” pay for it (which was code for pay for it all) as well as be the lackey aka do all the standard “Daddy duties” (help clean up and take all the presents to the car) with a good attitude all the while he is treated as a tolerable guest at his own child’s party.  It sucks seeing your husband in that position but I digress.

The birthday ripple effect I am referring to here are the birthday parties your family, friends, and acquaintances invite your bonus children to attend.   Honestly, I tried to avoid them at all cost at one point by declining their attendance straight up as soon as I got the invitation.  I tried to remain the buffer between our people and the circumstances surrounding when we saw our children.  There were many times with one mother in particular, were we would drive to the mother’s house to get the child only to leave childless. Other times, a plan was in place to have the child for the weekend but there was a last-minute “change of plans” which resulted in us not seeing that child that weekend.  We would, as I like to term it, RSVP to have our child for a particular event (birthday, special occasion, etc) and be on pins and nettles hoping that nothing went wrong.  Folks would seem to sabotage our plans by being late, not being ready on time, “forgetting” times and dates, you name it.  So, after experiencing all of that in our own personal hell, I did not want our family and friends to feel that sting.  I did not want to show up childless to a function I RSVP to have children attend only for it to fall through at the last-minute after our folks had paid money for my child(ren) to attend.

The one mother in particular who was famous for this type of behavior has gotten better but I say that very loosely.  Nowadays, both of them (in my personal, humble, but correction opinion) are calling the shots for visitation and, as expected, our desires are not high on their list of priorities.  My husband mentions dates we want the child(ren) and we don’t expect much in return.  We have the “if they are here, they are here and if not, they are not” attitude.  Life will still go on.  Do we want them?  Yes.  Of course.  But we no longer hang our hearts on their presence.  We can’t.

We are used to this ordeal but it is hard looking at an Evite of a child who wants my children to attend their party and have to give a response I know neither child nor parent understands. Our family and friends don’t live or come from this situation to the extent to understand our response which is, “I won’t know until the Friday before [the day of the event] if we will have the children or not and even then I won’t know until late that evening when they are in our possession.”

I hate to hear their disappointment and see their disheartened looks. There is nothing I can do to fix it.  This is yet another sucky part to the situation. It saddens me that so many people have to be involved in the suckiness of it all.

A year or so ago, I started to lessen this habit because I realized I was giving someone power by letting thoughts of getting back at them fill my mind.  Five or so months ago, I released a lot more of this when I was reminded that my thoughts guide my future.  I see God doing big things in our future so these thoughts were not working for us.  However, I still struggled with trying to fight things out in my mind.

Let’s say someone said something that was uncalled for, meant to be hurtful, or surprised me by how uncaring or thoughtless they really are.  I would work out in my mind how to defend against them verbally until I saw them again.  The next time I interacted with that person I would be on guard waiting for a chance to verbally assault them.

Or, let’s say that I saw or heard that someone wronged someone I associate with.  I would verbally prepare a response in case that person tried that mess on me.

What I was really afraid of is that I would not have the words to retaliate if I did not prepare for it in advance.  I was caught off guard the first time and I refused to be caught off guard again.  (Fool me once shame on me…) I was taught that if I showed fear, like crying in front of someone when they hurt my feelings, I gave the other person the power.

Here’s the thing.  I cry when I am angry.  I could be mad as a hatter and cry like a baby.  I’m talking snot, tears, snorting, the whole nine, and I am not a pretty crier.  That is not a good look for someone angry and certainly does not work in the favor of someone who is trying to defend themselves against a verbal assault.

My defense mechanism was to not let it get that far; to make a preemptive strike.

Needless to say, after all these years of practice, that failed like a charm.

What I was really doing was telling God how much I didn’t trust Him.  My actions reflected what was in my heart.  I don’t trust the Lord with my feelings; for Him to see that I have been hurt and to rescue me.   I have to learn how to trust the Lord; for Him to give me the words to say, the time, tone, and manner in which to say it.  I have to learn how to trust the Lord. Not plan for a future attack, but accept the life lesson as it is presented and trust that He will allow me to recognize the same attack on sight the next time and speak to it honestly and humbly.

Usually, I write in the past tense indicating that a problem has been resolved or worked through.  Not so this time.  I am still learning here.  Every day is a struggle to choose to trust Him instead of taking the reigns and trying to work it out myself.  Each negative thought, each thought I have where I try to win an imaginary conversation that never happened or happened, each replay of shoudda-woudda-coudda-why-didn’t-I, I have to decide whether I am going to release that thought and trust God or trust myself.

If I had to grade myself thus far, I’d give myself a D.  But I am working on getting an A.

I didn’t slow down.  I just stopped.

Something happened the week of Thanksgiving.  I got a hint, a taste, of time free of restrictions.  Thanksgiving break always makes me feel like I am in school again where I refused to do anything that resembled work during that time.  During school, I wouldn’t do any school work unless it was absolutely necessary and even then, I would do it at the last possible minute because I did not want to do “their” work on my time. Now that I am an adult, I still feel that way.  Instead of absolute refusal of school work, its hit-or-miss (mostly miss) Wifommy work.

We had no home school during the week of Thanksgiving.  My son was up and I baked and baked and baked.  I enjoy baking and being in the kitchen so I do not consider that work.  It’s fun.  I view it as my me time that other people enjoy.

After Thanksgiving, school work resumed, scheduled gym time resumed, household responsibilities etc resumed.  By mid December, I all but quit.

No more school. No more blog(s). Minimal housework. Happenstance dinner plans.

I took a break.  Normally I feel so bad for saying that but I don’t this time.  I didn’t quit.  I didn’t refuse to come back to normal.  I stopped going so hard in one direction and rested.

I learned an important lesson in this and learned something more of myself.

Well placed breaks make me more effective in my role(s).  I returned back to all of the things I wrote at the start of this post with eagerness.  I was excited to begin again.  My  motive was not to ever come back to myself and my responsibilities.  It was to stop all of the day-to-day and enjoy the time and the season.  Because my motive was well placed, I believe my outcome was positive to all involved.

I rediscovered my love of reading through audiobooks!  I enjoy reading a good book but my family cannot afford for me to be engrossed in a book to the neglect of dishes, laundry, and family time which is exactly what I used to do.  Audiobooks enable me to do chores because I can listen to my book while I complete those tasks.   I actually look forward to doing laundry, dishes, and the like because I can escape to my book.  I don’t think I would have ever really discovered this for myself if I didn’t have this break.

I took a standing 8 count.  Now I’m back.

Last week’s issue with my oldest son’s mother led me to accept a blaring truth that, from day one, I have been trying to prove to be a lie. That truth is that a blended family will never be one.

In my situation, we have two mother’s of two different children.  I always esteemed my oldest son’s mother more than my daughter’s mother.  My character is extremely similar to Anthony’s mother which made it very easy to get along with her but possessing a similar character is not enough to make a blended family whole.

I can only speak of my situation.  All other Amaness’ out there may very well have vastly different situations than my own.  Treat this as a buffet.  If you need it, take it.  Otherwise, leave it.  It wasn’t meant for you.

The truth.

The child(ren) is the utmost and primary concern of the unmarried custodial parent.  Period.  Nothing and no one is permitted to be in the way of what that parent wants, desires, needs, or prefers for their child.

The marriage is the utmost and primary concern of the married noncustodial parent.  Period. Nothing and no one is permitted to be in the way of that parents marriage.

It sounds good independent of itself but therein lies the problem.  As independent as each household is, there is some dependency because there is a shared child.  The married parent respects the custodial parents role as primary parent and all that that entails but still desires their role in the child’s life independent from the custodial parents wants, desires, needs, or preferences.  The custodial parent respects the noncustodial parents marriage as far as it does not impede on their wants, desires, needs, or preferences for the child.

(I guess, if each person respected the other person’s wants, desires, needs, preferences, and marital status they would have married in the first place right?)

Most things involving a child in this situation are hardly ever done in the child’s best interest because that would require all personal desires to be put aside. In actuality, what is termed to “be in the best interest of the child” is code speak for “this is what I want and this is what is going to happen” and it can go both ways; custodial or noncustodial.

It is an unending tug-of-war.  But today, I am letting go of the strings.  I love my children.  All of them.  But the truth is, of all four of my children, only one is battle free.

I’m hurt.

I am pissed to the utmost of pissivity (Yes.  I made that word up)

Without being too specific in a petty way, here is what happened.

My oldest son has some dietary requirements.  My husband and I have been doing fairly well in honoring all requests to his eating when he is here with us.  He was with us during the most recent holiday break.  During this break, there were two food items given that were not apart of his plan.  One food item was given as what I termed an appropriate substitute because it did not contain an ingredient we were trying to steer clear up.  The other food item happened entirely by accident.  My son knew it was not for him but I was too tired to correct him before he ate it.  The food item would not have endangered him critically in any way.

All of this was reported to my son’s mother as requested.

I received a very accusatory email in response to the information I gave her.  I can not put into words the FIRE that I felt.  I wanted to call and lay her out but I would have been completely out of line.  Not because I had no cause but because my goal would have been to verbally cut her up every which way to Sunday for having the audacity to come at me like that!  Honestly, I was so taken back by her email that I was speechless.  I had so much fire inside that I wanted to unleash but I had no words to put with it because I was still processing it all.  I read that email several times because I wanted to see a sign or a hint that what I was reading wasn’t true.  No.  She couldn’t possibly be accusing me of not working together with her for the benefit of my son.  No. She couldn’t possibly be accusing me of being the reason why our son is conflicted between her house rules and my own.  No way!  Not  Anthony’s mom!

Yes way.  That is exactly what the email said but, as it was explained later to my husband, it was “merely stating fact and was not meant to be accusatory”. Right.

So, I’m done.

Two, non lethal food items warranted her hurling accusations at me.  There was no mention of all of the food substitutions, second dinners that were prepared, special desserts that were made, and overall adjustments to our household that were made for his benefit.

(deep sigh)

Here is what I learned from this.  It’s not like I didn’t already know this truth because I did but it wasn’t until this evening after receiving her email, responding to it, and hearing back from my husband after he spoke with her that I realized I had not applied it to this situation.  ALL OF YOUR ACTIONS SHOULD BE DONE FOR THE GLORY OF GOD AND NEVER FOR THE GLORY OF MAN.

I cooked separate dinners, bought certain foods, kept him from eating certain things thereby limiting our intake of it during his stays as well, limited our outside dinning experiences, packed separate food for him, etc all to please my son’s mother.  As I look back on it, I have been doing this for nine years; since the first time we kept him until this evening.  It was my attempt to keep peace.  It was my attempt to let this be a good working relationship.  But you can’t really have a good working relationship with someone if the only reason it is considered good and working is that you do everything the other says.

Yes, she is his mother and her right and responsibility is to make decisions regarding her son’s health and well-being.  However, my home is my home.  We may agree on many things but we are still two separate individuals and we do things differently.  The same way my rules do not follow him to his mother’s house is the same way her rules don not follow him to this house.  I used to look at myself as an extension of her hand.  Tonight I see that I have my own hand.  I am a grown woman in my own right with my own thoughts and feelings that will not always agree with hers.  The bummer is that she has to share her son with a man and his wife and she can’t dictate all things Anthony while he is in his father’s (and my own) care.  It’s a consequence of the sin of fornication that resulted in a child born outside of the marriage covenant.

I am not going to hurt my son or knowingly endanger him.  My goal is still to assist in raising him according to the Word of God.  I will not completely disregard everything his mother says.  (She is his mother and he lives with her. She knows him best.  To completely disregard her is stupid.)  But I will not perform any act of love or kindness with the intention of pleasing her or to reduce the possibility of a conflict between the two households.  I will perform all actions, requests, etc with the heart of being obedient to God’s will and for His glory even if it means saying no to her.