It's Very Possible

I strongly suspect that BB has an APD (Audio Processing Disorder). Over the last while I've done a fair bit of research, and it fits only too well. I already know that if we had him tested and he learned he had a "label" - particularly something to do with a learning disorder - it would devastate him. He's extremely needy and fragile right now. Even though he tries desperately to pretend he's tough (he's not), and has it all in control (ha!), and is amazing (he is), and is smart (he is, but only in some ways), and is wiser than everyone around (well, you know the answer to that one).

This throws me as his stepmom into a really weird place. Because, not only am I the one to sound the alarm to his dad, but I'm the one who has to deal with all this entails - morning, noon, and night, and on top of all that - I'm his teacher.

Just call me Super(step)mom!

Ha.

I've attempted to find some tools for how to help him overcome this (or at least equip him with tools to cope with it). Because he CANNOT go through life as he is. Just trust me on this. I know I'm "only the stepmom", and have stepped into his life when he's already more than half grown, but this is NOT okay. He's socially awkward (much more than most 14 yr olds). He's disconnected (with schoolwork, with conversations, with following instructions). He gets stuck on repeat all. the. time. He reads the dictionary and the encyclopedia for fun. Which would be fine, except that he talks like them, too. He has no opinions of his own. All his "opinions" are things he's read in books - which he will repeat back to you almost word for word. He is absolutely horrendous at story problems and logic problems in math. He's almost like a little robot. Push a button. He'll say one thing. Push another button. He'll say something else. He has a very hard time holding a decent conversation. And by decent I mean the skill of holding a conversation - not a monologue. Or a staring contest. I'm not sure which is worse.

Things are definitely better now than they were. A LOT better. But we still have a long way to go.

Can learning disabilities be "taught" or "given" to someone? If so, I think that's what happened. The environment he was in before he came to me was completely stifling. Full of anger. Full of bigotry. Full of control. And manipulation.

I've been working hard to help change things. And we've come a long ways. I just hope we reach the goal before he's 18. But at this point, I really don't think we will.

I need to be praying more about it. For him. For me to know how to help him. For answers. For wisdom.

It's Still a Mystery

Some years back I realized that I had let other people define me to the point that I wasn't sure who I really was. "They" said I was loud. "They" said I was outgoing. "They" said I was a hard worker. "They" said I was good with kids. "They" said I was always upbeat and positive. "They" said I was moody. "They" said I was calm and stable. "They" said I was faithful and dependable. "They" said I was decent with music, but still had a long way to go. "They" said that I had a gift with music, and if I really applied myself I could be playing with the symphony and doing solo concerts if I liked. "They" said I was unbelievably patient. "They" said I was impatient and abrupt. "They" said I came across as a snob. "They" said I was friendly and caring. "They" said I needed a degree in order to support myself. "They" said I didn't need a degree as long as I really knew what I was doing.

See the problem? It all depended on what "they" I listened to that became the definition of who I believed myself to be.

So I set out to change it. I decided to do some serious introspective analyzing, and figure out which of those things were actually ME. I attempted to start from the assumption that I knew nothing about myself - nothing about what really made me tick. Much easier said than done, of course.

Some things I discovered rather rapidly. For instance, while one of my biggest passions is music, I probably won't ever be a concert pianist - shockingly enough (at least to me) not because I couldn't be good enough, but because I wasn't willing to sacrifice everything else about my life in order to become that. And that was a real revelation to me. Because I'd believed most of the negativity and me and music.

Other things took a number of years for them to really click into place. Like one that finally "snapped" recently. I am NOT an extrovert. Contrary to popular opinion, I really hate being in the spotlight. I don't like making friends. I mean, I like making friends, but I don't like MAKING friends. I despise small talk. I'd rather spend an hour with a close friend than all day with a crowd of people. I'd rather spend all day with a close friend than fifteen minutes with a crowd of people. Really.

Some things about myself I realized - and fought for, in a sense. When people tried to pressure me to do exactly what my grandma had done with her life (especially as the years went on and I was still single - just like her) I adamantly insisted that I wasn't interested in following in her steps. This seemed to shock them. But I didn't want the spotlight. I didn't want to be "famous". I didn't want to travel so much that no where really felt like home. And I most certainly did not want to speak in front of crowds. Oddly enough, I'm not exactly scared of speaking in front of crowds. It's not a stage fright issue. It's an I-don't-want-to-do-that-with-my-life issue. And when people try to push me into something I don't want to do I can get pretty feisty. That happened a number of times over this issue. I'm guessing a few people have a fairly low opinion of me as a result.

Some things about myself I had always known, but tried to force myself to change to please someone else. For example, I HATE charts. Lists I can deal with. But only the kind of lists that are somewhat haphazard, make them as you go, with no confining prioritizing numbers beside them. Daily chore charts when I was a child... I still twitch remembering. My mother was an avid list and chart maker. I despised them. Her way of doing life always felt so confining, so restricting, so predictable, so... utterly unattainable. And every so often (usually when I'd missed an appointment or realized some cleaning and organizing was way overdue) I would create detailed lists and charts - with all the annoying prioritizing numbers and categories - and try to become her. I got really, really, REALLY good at making lists and charts. I'm still really good at making lists and charts. But they don't work for me. I'll make them, but then I'll forget to read them. Or follow them. But I always hate them.

Some things I am only beginning to suspect. For instance, I've always wanted to be a wife and mom - a full-time homemaker. Except that I'm beginning to suspect that may not be enough for me. I genuinely love having my small side-business. Oh, it doesn't bring in much money. Not much at all. But I get great satisfaction out of each sale, each happy client. Do I want a full-time job and to leave the full-time homemaking behind? Not a chance. But I am beginning to wonder if perhaps I can find a somewhere-in-between point that suits me quite well.

Becoming a stepmom has forced me to reevaluate who I am in a whole new way. AM I as impatient as some people said I was? I hardly think so. There's no counting the number of times I am left growling and fuming inside, thinking words that can't be spoken. Sometimes towards BB and LM, sometimes towards the people who made them who they are, and sometimes even towards my husband. AM I a hard worker? Yes, but not always because I want to be. And I'm finding that I do better in the long run when I allow myself to take some time just for me.

I want to breathe again. But lately, the only times when I really feel like I have enough oxygen - enough space in my life - is when it's just PC and me, and there is no noise, no distractions, nothing. Just us. Together. Quiet. Or even quietly chatting. Those moments are rare. But I treasure every one of them.

It's still a mystery who I really am. I can tell you a few things about myself. I can tell you some things I like, or don't like. I can tell you some things I do well, and things I really stink at. But there's still something missing. Even to me. And to be honest, I'm not sure if it's a spiritual hunger for God (which is definitely a relationship I need to be putting more effort into) or if it's something I'm still not understanding about myself.

I know I don't want to be my grandma.

I know I don't want to be my mom.

I know I don't want to be my cousin.

Not because I don't like those women - I do. Not because I don't highly respect those women - I do. Not because I don't think I could learn something from those women - I can, and do. All the time.

But.

I want to be me.

The woman God created me to be.

I just don't know who she is yet.

It's Hopeful

Just got back from the doctor visit. And it's hopeful that I'll be feeling better soon. She seems quite convinced that I've got a hormonal imbalance going on (thus, the constant fatigue, the headaches, the food issues, etc) and sent me home with several things to start with. An "anti-inflammatory diet" (not really a diet, per se, but certain foods to avoid), a something-or-other pill to take that will supposedly start helping my adrenals to work better, and tomorrow I'll be able to pick up a homeopathic something-or-other pill that should help with the adrenals and etc as well. There are also a couple of tests she want me to do - soon, but not right this moment - that should help us pinpoint more precisely what is going on with my hormone levels.

She was very confident that I'd be feeling better soon - kind of chuckled and said she wanted to do a bit more checking, but that she was positive she knew exactly what was going on with me, because she had dealt with the exact same health stuff herself a few years back.

I really appreciated that she's into home remedies for things, and gave me several proactive things I can do simply at home that should start helping me feel better. She was very encouraging, and maybe that helped the most - at least for today.

The anti-inflammatory diet is going to be a horrid pain to try to follow. I'm supposed to avoid a number of things that we eat ALL THE TIME. Like tomatoes, wheat, dairy, potatoes, corn products... *sigh* How I'm supposed to pull this off I have no idea. But I'm gonna try. I'll probably end up cooking dinner for my men, and something else for me. We shall see. I'm honestly not sure how I'll find the time (okay, and money) to do this, but... I've got to at least give it a try. She did say that she definitely didn't want it adding more stress to my life, and that if it came to a choice between more stress or eating a tomato, to eat the tomato. I'm glad she's so realistic about life and rolling with the punches, but I also know that unless I'm willing to give it a really good shot to follow what she's wanting me to do, that I won't really be able to find the answers I need.

Here goes!....

It's Shocking

...how fast boys can grow! Cleaned out their dresser and closet today, 'cause I kept noticing how some of their stuff was looking skimpy, and... ACK!! I was suddenly envisioning the price of having to buy an entire new wardrobe for TWO kiddos. But then I remembered I had stuck a box in the shed with clothes for LM to grow into. So we went to find it. And... stumbled on a box I had also set back for BB! (Last summer some friends had given us an enormous amount of hand-me-downs which were - then - too big for either one.) Well guess what?! They fit now! So that was a big relief. Still are short on a few specifics. Like dress pants for LM (as in, he needs them NOW - as in, I had to pull a pair of slacks back out the "giveaway bag" just so's he'd have something to wear tomorrow!). And t-shirts for spring/summer for BB. But it's looking way better than it did at first. Major panic about the budget is over for the moment. At least until I have to go through their closet again next week. ;-)

It's Hard

It's really hard to keep going on days like this. I have to force myself to do anything. Everything. It's like all my energy is just plain gone. Even before I got out of bed this morning there was this horrid sense of "I don't know if I even have the energy to go get a shower." I'm not giving in to it. In fact, I made myself go take a walk with the boys this afternoon after school. It wasn't far - maybe a half mile in all - and I know the fresh air and sunshine was good for me, but by the time we started back home I was really dragging. I wish I knew what was causing this. It's so frustrating. I want to be back to my normal energetic, happy, bubbly self.

I really, really hope the naturopathic doctor can give me some answers/help on Monday. I can't keep going like this forever.

It's When I See We're Making Progress

I mentioned in a previous post how BB and LM weren't used to doing, well... anything... for themselves before a year ago. Much less doing anything for anyone else. But today I just had to brag on them and how much they've grown.

Before:

Not realizing just HOW dependent they were, I remember asking one of them to sweep the kitchen floor for me one morning shortly after PC and I got married. All I got was a blank look. It wasn't a belligerent I-don't-want-to-do-it look. It was an I-have-no-idea-how-to-do-what-you-just-asked-me-to-do look. It was also a bit scared. So. We had a quick lesson in sweeping that day. Not a long one, because I was really busy that morning (which was why I had asked for some help with sweeping the floor in the first place) and the floor never got swept as well as I would have liked it, but I figured the learning aspect was far more important than a job being thoroughly done. And one of my pet peeves is people who ask someone else to do something, and then come along and re-do it later because it didn't meet with their approval. If you're in charge and a job didn't get done like you need it done, use the opportunity to teach. Don't make them feel like dirt by re-doing it yourself. And if the job can be lived with like it is, then live with it. And keep your mouth shut. I realize there are exceptions to this rule, but that's my general rule of thumb. So the floor wasn't perfect that day. But they had learned the basics of a skill they needed for life.

They also didn't know how to wash dishes. At all. As in, we had to discuss hot water, soap, dishcloths, towels, what washcloths and towels can (and cannot) be used for, and how some foods (like raw meat) can make people very sick if not properly handled.

Making beds was a complete mystery. So was organizing toys and games.

And SO many other things that would have been "normal" for me as a child - at younger ages!

We started working on simple things. One at a time. Moment by moment. And I tried to reassure them that if I asked them to do something they didn't know how to do, to come ask me to show them - and I would be happy to. We talked about how everyone needs to learn certain skills before becoming an adult. (You don't want to still be asking your mom to tie your shoes at age 35, for example.) And I told them (over and over again) that there is no shame in not knowing how to do something, but you need to have a willingness to learn, and TRY. And we talked about how some things you can be shown once, and know how to do immediately. Other things takes lots and lots of practice. And patience.

So we all kept learning. And trying. And growing. But I had to ask them (or tell them) to do certain things every day. They couldn't see things unless I pointed them out.

Like this:

Me: BB, you spilled some crumbs on the floor when you buttered your toast. (Buttering your own toast was a new skill, by the way.)

BB (looking down at the floor in surprise): I did?! Oh. *takes toast to the table and sits down to eat*

Me: You should probably clean up the crumbs before someone else steps in them and tracks them through the house.

BB: Oh! Yeah! Okay. *gets up and cleans up the crumbs*

Or this:

LM comes in the house and takes off his shoes right in front of the door and leaves them there.

Me: LM, someone might trip on your shoes if you leave them there.

LM: Oops! I forgot them. I'll go move them so no one gets hurt! *hurries off*

See what I mean? They're really REALLY good kids. I love them to pieces. But they just plain didn't see stuff. I know part of that is just "being a kid". But it was more extreme than that.

Then:

One morning as I slowly came awake, I realized I was hearing clinking noises from the kitchen. BB had woken up before me and had realized (shockingly enough) the dishwasher had clean dishes in it and needed to be put away. I was so delighted with him I nearly threw a party. I praised him up one side and down the other, told him that was a mark of maturity - to be able to see something that needed to be done, and just go do it - not wait for someone else to tell you it needed to be done. His dad clapped him on the shoulder and gave him an "I'm really proud of you, boy!" And BB just stood there and smiled and smiled and smiled.

The positive approach worked. Even better than we'd hoped! After that morning it wasn't at all unusual to wake up to clinking noises in the kitchen. And for a while he needed that extra approval - needed to be noticed, needed the affirmation. "I emptied the dishwasher, Mom." "I see that! Good for you! I appreciate the help."

But it wasn't long before he'd just do it without needing extra compliments. (Mind you, I still try to thank them for their work and efforts. No one likes NOT being appreciated - especially when you're trying to do something nice for someone. But if things get busy and I somehow miss verbally noting the fact that the dishes are put away it's not a big deal to him.)

LM wasn't going to be outdone by BB. He started taking "possession" of the kitchen floor. For some reason still unknown to me, he likes sweeping. Maybe it's that he can actually see where he's been if the food and crumbs are gone, and it gives him a satisfaction to see progress. I don't know. Either way, he started sweeping without anyone asking him to. At random intervals. If he noticed one solitary crumb under the table. Or dirt by the door.

And I was so proud of them both.

Now:

They clean up from dinner every evening. And BB usually helps with lunch clean-up too. LM is still my "kitchen floor police". BB often notices when the trash and recycling need to be taken out. LM checks the mail every day. They both hang up their clothes. They turn out lights when they notice lights on in an empty room. They offer to set the table when I have dinner almost ready. They carry the groceries and help me put things away. They put away laundry if they see it sitting (folded) on the table. And so many other things. And I'm guessing a good 75% of the things they do around here are not prompted by me or PC. They do them because they see things that need doing, and they WANT to help out.

I'm so very proud of them. Some parents might look at my list and think kids of these ages should be doing those things and more. But I see the tremendous progress we've made just in one short year, and I'm so proud of them I could cry. They're turning into such thoughtful young men.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, they still don't make their beds. I'll confess it drives me slightly nutty on some days to look in their bedroom door and see messy beds. But then I remember how far we've come, and I just smile and shrug. Bed-making can wait. It's not that important right now.

It's About Priorities

That whole idea in the last post about prioritizing? There's another factor to my prioritizing around here, too.

I want my kids to remember home being a happy place. A place with laughter. And fun. And hugs. And big messes - in the kitchen, in the yard, on the floor in the living room. So if you come to visit and find two opposing Lego armies with men dying from one end of my living room to the other, you might as well grab a few weapons and join in, because the war is an almost daily occurrence around here. And if my choice of the afternoon is to vacuum or let the battle rage... well, I'm almost certain to let the battle rage. The floor can get vacuumed tomorrow. In the meantime, we have some memories to make. 

It's One Reason I'm Learning to Give Grace to Myself

These health issues have got to go. I mean, yes, they are teaching me to give grace to myself... mainly in the form of having to admit "I'm just plain not up to that today". "That" being anything from scrubbing the tub to baking cookies to mopping my floor. But sometimes "that" is something even less strenuous. Like folding a load of laundry. I'm having to prioritize in ways I didn't really picture me having to prioritize. See, I figured I'd have to learn to juggle the choices of teaching more music students or mopping my kitchen twice a week, being more involved in ministry or or giving my own children a better education. You know - bigger things. But some days my energy level is such I have to acknowledge that if I fold that basketful of laundry, I'm going to be running out of steam to cook dinner. And since food for my family is more important than getting laundry folded (after all, they can pull the clean clothes they need straight out of the laundry basket if necessary - the clothes don't HAVE to be in the dresser drawer tonight) I make the choice to leave the laundry in the basket. Do I like that? No. I don't. Sometimes it drives me nuts to see the laundry sitting out, or the spots on the floor in front of the stove, but I'm making the choices I have to for where I'm at.

Whatever is causing this horrific lack of energy (some days are better than others) is also forcing me to give grace to myself in the form of taking time for ME. Which is hard for me to do. After all, I went into this marriage knowing I would instantly be a full-time homemaker and homeschool mom, and I also knew some of the challenges I would be up against with specific things the boys needed to learn a grow in (due to circumstances to complex to explain today, they'd been in an environment where they had never learned to make their own bed, sweep the floor, wash dishes, load a dishwasher, hang up their own clothes, etc, etc) I already knew before we got married that my boys learning curve would be HUGE for a good long while, and that a lot would be demanded of me just to keep up with everything. And I was really looking forward to trying to create an environment for healing, for learning, for growing. An environment where it was not only okay - but encouraged - to learn new skills, try new things, make messes, pretend, imagine, read, grow, LEARN about life in general. But because of the way I've been feeling, I haven't been able to do some of the things with them that I was really looking forward to doing with them. And some days I realize I HAVE to go sit down for a while. Drink tea. Read a book. Crochet. Listen to an audio Bible.

I'm also struggling to mentally process things. Ongoing. And that's incredibly frustrating for a homeschool mom. If you've never been there, I highly suggest you DON'T go there. And the whole mental strain/fatigue/whatever thing going on may or may not be related to the health issues. Dunno. Maybe it's two separate symptoms of stress that aren't directly related. Or maybe it is.

The only way I really know how to describe it is... it feels like my entire system is full of toxins. Why? No idea. And I can't even tell you precisely why I think that. But that's the best description I can give you.

I toyed with the idea of trying to do some type of cleansing diet, but that's totally impractical for now. I can't just put life on hold while I deal with this.

So. Today I went in for a consultation with a naturopathic doctor to see if she thought she could help me. I told her right up front that I wasn't sure if I needed a doctor or a counselor. She seems very sweet, very well-educated (in the more traditional methods of medicine, as opposed to our current pathetic trends of putting "bandaids" on symptoms and not really dealing with the root causes of the problems) and is a Christian, to boot. So far, so good. I'm supposed to go back in next Monday for a proper visit, and see what she can do to help me. Praying for God to give both me and her wisdom. :-) I'm not thrilled at the idea of spending money to try to "fix" myself (especially not when I know BB and LM need to get their eyes checked - and I'm SURE one of them, likely both - are going to need glasses) but today while PC and I were on a walk together I said "You're going to have to tell me what to do here, because I really don't want to be spending money on myself right now." There was no hesitation when he said "I want you to do this." So since my PC has been so concerned (for months) and urging me to pursue this, I'm going to.

And that's where I'm at today. Exhausted, but hopeful. :-)

It's the Weirdest Feeling

(This post was written before this blog was born. It's really the reason this blog was born. Because I realized that while I couldn't - okay, wouldn't - share some things with most of the people in my life, the fellow stepmoms I knew completely understood when I would talk about these things. And I realized that the way they gave me validation - even if only to acknowledge that the emotions and the struggles and the confusing things were real - was the same validation I could offer to yet another stepmom. So if you wondered why I started this blog, here's your answer. It's because I not only needed a place to write down my own thoughts and feelings, and process all the "stuff" going on, but I also wanted to let other stepmoms know they weren't alone. I wanted to give them - you! - hope.)

It's the Weirdest Feeling...

To feel like absolutely everything has changed.

To be living in a different town.

To have two kids.

To have a husband.

To have a new name.

To be sharing a car with someone else.

To be a parent. And yet I'm not one. And yet I am. And yet... ah, skip it.

To be a "new mother". Except that my "babies" are 12 and 14.

To be a "homeschool mom". Except that I'm starting this homeschool mom thing with a junior-higher and high-schooler.

To not have my piano available to practice on.

To love music and yet not have much of it in my life right now. Not in any form.

To be a newlywed. With a family of four.

Sometimes I think I've lost me. Except that in some ways I have found me. So maybe it's a little of both.

Some days I'm really struggling to keep my head above water. I'd like to be able to play the "I'm a new mom" card. So that everyone would smilingly nod and understand exactly why my house isn't spotless, why I'm not dressed in career clothes, why my hair is a mess, why dinner isn't like my mom's dinners are, why I look tired, why I'm forgetting important things, why I don't feel good sometimes, why I sleep in when I can, or even wish I could nap during the day. But my "babies" are 12 and 14, and by all appearances I am apparently supposed to have this mom thing down by now. I can't pull the "new mom" card. It's not that my baby won't sleep through the night and that's why I'm tired. It's not that delivery was rough and my body is taking a while to recover. If I could tell them those things I've no doubt people would be compassionate. But I can't - okay, I WON'T - explain what being a new stepmom is like. I won't go into details about the relationships and how hard I'm working to provide an environment for healing and health. I won't explain all the reasons why I allow myself to sleep in sometimes. I won't explain the reasons my kitchen floor needs to be mopped - and hasn't been. I won't explain why I'm avoiding scrubbing out the tub in the bathroom. I won't tell everyone which relationships are wonderful, and which ones are painful - and where that pain stems from. I don't owe anyone a explanation for any of this. And yet to hear the opinions shared on what I "should be doing" and what I'm doing "wrong" sting me even when I try to not let them hurt me.

I'm grateful for my husband, who never complains if dinner is late, who tells me to let some of the housework go - and then scrubs the tub for me when he gets home from work, who prays for me, who holds me when I can't quite keep the emotions and tears at bay, who demonstrates love in action every single day. And who gives me the space to be who I really am, even in the process of me figuring out the difference between who I was and who I want to be in the future. And loves me in the middle of my muddles.

I'm grateful for my parents and siblings, who volunteer to keep the boys for a few hours so I can go grocery shopping without kids along, who pray for me, who invite us over to dinner, who help with dishes when they're at our house, and who make me laugh.

I'm grateful for my boys, who voluntarily help with housework, who don't backtalk, who give tight hugs, who tell me they love me, who have been through SO many changes themselves in the last year, and are such good sports.

I'm grateful for my friends, who send me cards in the mail, who send random gifts that make me smile - and cry, who Facebook message or email me just to see how I'm doing, who don't get offended when I don't respond for a few days - or weeks, who encourage me when I'm down, who share the laughs and the jokes, who inspire and encourage me with my home business ventures, who share crockpot recipes, who drive long distances just to come see me even when they know I don't generally have the car available and probably won't be able to return the visit any time soon.

I'm grateful for the way God continues to show He loves me and He cares and He sees and He understands and He will enable me to face each challenge as it comes along.

I've got it made. Really. I am SO very blessed.

But it still is the weirdest feeling.

It's not always comfortable.

But it's where I'm at.

And I am happy with where God has me.

I see Him working. I see Him growing me. I see Him healing people I love. I see His hand in our lives.

That makes it a great place to be. Even when it's not comfortable. Even when it's a weird feeling.

I'll tell you this... I'm learning an awful lot about grace. And faith.

And if you don't like the journey God has me on - or how I'm traveling - well, that's okay I guess. I just hope you're happy in the journey God has YOU on. And I hope that we can both be compassionate and full of grace for each other - even when we don't understand each other, or our respective journeys. 'Cause I'm sure you have your own weirdest feelings. And I may not understand yours any better than you understand mine. But I have a hunch we could learn from each other.

It's Been a Wild Journey

...but here I am.

I was:

~a single gal (And not thrilled with that, but what can you do until the right man comes along, eh?)

~a self-employed music teacher (And loving that part of my life. At least on most days. When my students had actually practiced that week. And their parents remembered to pay me. And little things like that.)

~still living in my parent's home (Hey, don't judge me, it's way more convenient and whole lot less lonely that way. And my mom is one amazing cook. Which was especially lovely when I was working late and really didn't feel like cooking when I got home.)

~highly involved in my church (Okay, honestly... I mostly loved that. Until I got so burned out I had to quit. Everything. Except playing the piano. And then it got so much better. It's amazing how little you take in when you're constantly giving out. And you've no idea how wonderful it is to be a student in an adult Sunday school class unless you've never been in one - like me. I felt like I was (spiritually) learning to walk again. Okay, I still do feel that way. But that's a really long story. Much too long to tell you today.)

But then God (and life in general) dumped me on my head. Um, yeah. Almost literally. Which was a good portion of that whole "learning to walk again" thing. It's kinda frightening to see how fast one successful single music teacher can go KERSPLAT! and be depending on people for all kinds of things that she promised herself she would NEVER depend on ANYone for. Yeah, frightening. And humbling. Extremely so.

But in the middle of the most painful time of my life, God brought along my Prince. And now...

I am:

~married to the wonderful man I waited for, for so long

~a stepmom to two wonderful boys

~a full-time homemaker

~a homeschool mom to said two wonderful boys (Okay, they're quickly becoming young men.)

~not as involved in my church (Although I do still play the piano every service and occasionally lead worship. But not much else.)

~living in a new town and have a new last name (More significant than you might know.)

~busier than I've ever been in my life (That's saying something, because at one point in my single years I was working three jobs while still almost single-handedly running the children's Sunday school and the music ministry. I know what busy is.)

~delighting in watching God bring healing into the lives of my boys (Yes, they call me "mom".)

~losing part of myself, while at the same time

~finding myself and being fulfilled in ways I've never known before

Before The One and I got married (and yes, I DO believe there is one right person for you to marry, and many people have tried to change my mind - and failed in the trying - and I believe this far more firmly after being married than I even did before) I did oodles of research on blended families/step families, read everything I could get my hands on, talked at length with every stepchild and stepparent I knew. One thing I found a tremendous lack in was real-life stepmoms who blog about life as it really is on a daily basis. Especially blogs from stepmoms who become the full-time caregiver. Are most stepmoms only part-time stepmoms? I don't know the answer to that, but it's not true for me. And I'm very certain I'm not the only woman walking on this path. But with the huge lack of info and support for those of us in that position, I decided to write my own blog. 

So here it is. The beginning of a stepmom blog. If my daily struggles (even the stupid ones in my own head) will somehow help the next woman who walks this road... well, I'd like to share with her. If you are that woman... welcome! C'mon in, pull up a chair and have a cup of tea. Or coffee. But make sure you grab a kleenex (maybe the whole box) because for some silly (or is it silly?) reason, we women seem to cry a lot when we're sharing our hearts. And I want to hear YOUR story just as much as I want to try to encourage you with my own story.

If you're not a stepmom, but you'd like to understand a little better what it's like on this road, you're welcome here too. But only on one condition. That you try to leave your preconceived ideas at the door, and enter with an open heart and mind. There's a reason that stepmoms have a special bond between them. It's because there are some things that we understand only from being on this particular road, and well-meaning people say some pretty cruel things about us and this road we're on. I'm sure it's because they don't understand how hurtful they are, and they would be horrified if they knew. So. As long as you promise to leave your judgments at the door (right beside that pile of boxes I've been trying to get unpacked since last May) I think we'll get along fine.

I will warn you though... I plan to be completely real on this blog. If I'm having a rotten day I'm going to say so. And if I have something to celebrate... well, I plan on throwing a huge ol' party. So you might want to grab a kazoo along with that box of kleenex, 'cause you never know which one you're going to need. Maybe both in one afternoon.

Oh, and one other thing. I don't really "do" the whole stepfamily thing. I'd much rather claim these boys as my own. I think they're pretty much the greatest kiddos in the world. So from here on out, I'm Mom. And these are my boys. I like it like that. They like it like that. And if you don't like that, well, you're reading on the wrong blog for you. :-)