Sneakers

If I were to represent myself in the metaphor of  what shoes I feel most comfortable  in, they would be high top sneakers. Sneakers always signified  to me the most comfortable footwear when I was a child. I loved that logo on the back heel that said: KEDS. Sneakers are emblematic to  being comfortable in my own skin.  That’s what is necessary before you are able to be empathetic with another human. 


A necessary prerequisite to successful blended families is that you walk in the shoes of the non-biological family member. If they are the child, then you must put your own agenda to the side and see life from their eyes only.  This does not mean you become a doormat to be walked on or have your needs be sublimated, but in order to be the true adult you must be able to lose many battles before you can win the war which is a successful relationship.  

The People Pleaser

The first week alone without the Immigrants (my stepson and daughter in law) is over in a double blink and as the Summer Sun loses the power of its declination and heads south for the fall, I am nonplussed as usual. I almost want to put the breaks on the clock however so I can enjoy the solitude that a two person household offers.  There is no empty nest anxiety I am experiencing, however I cannot say the same for my wife. I caught her crying as I came back from spin class yesterday morning but she refused to open up about the details. I made a searching inventory as I always do to determine if I was the miscreant but I know that is usually a selfish exercise. It’s all about her, not me.    She came out of it later in the day but I know she misses her daughter in law and the burgeoning bond they have developed working their jewelry magic together.   

My resolution to rescue her tugs at my heart strings, but I must resist as my savior days are over.  It is not so much selfish as it is that I need to redirect my feelings about what makes me happy instead of ameliorating the feelings in my wife’s solar plexus.  She is on her own road now and I hope that the sense of purpose she has found in her craft will make her take stock of her own talent and bolster her self esteem.  This is one of the most difficult actions I take as the “people pleaser” in me will not die a natural death.    

Empathy

Empathy is one of the keys to successful relationships with step children.  As humans we are sentient by nature and automatically think how every event outside ourselves affects us. This natural tendency is good mainly for survival not for relationships.  

In the beginning I thought that my personality alone would be the one theater that I would excel in, as it had always worked before in drawing people to my God given charisma.  It was the rudest awakening of my life when I found that no matter how likable I thought I was, it was a relatively useless talent when it came to stewardship as a step dad.  

I found out that step children are 1000 times more interested in what’s going on in their lives as they are about yours or what you are thinking. Once you can establish that fact in your mind and embrace it whole heartedly the easier your life will become in being with them on a day to day basis.

Freedom

The second night  of being alone, brings with it a freedom and yet its own prison as well.  The concentration of time alone with my wife has challenges of where we are going after our 12 year journey. We have not looked at our situation since we moved here some 7 years ago.  That of course will bear closer examination. I have lamented that the excuses are aplenty when it comes to her son and patience shorter than a cigarette match when I start to complain.  

  I have been so absorbed in being angry and resentful of my stepson that I no longer have his presence to be concerned with at least for the next ten weeks anyway.  His sense of taking responsibility will hit him right between the eyes when he returns and I think this time my wife will make sure he will have little time to walk around in his underwear and playing video games. His mother cited just the other day that his elder sister works three jobs to make money. He was incredulous at the thought and his slothful response was that one job was just enough for anyone.  So much less time this time come October will I spend ruminating about how he is not contributing. I will make sure over the next 70 days that my wife and I have a united front, within 24 hours of his arrival back from the ancient world of the Orient. 

70 Days

It is but three days more and my wife and I will be alone again in our big house. No more soup noodles or fried wontons for 10 weeks.My stomach will miss those gastronomic delights. Gone will be my son in his underwear parading the muscles of his upper torso and those long workouts in the garage. I will miss him nonetheless.   Gone too will be my daughter in law, who I will miss dearly. My wife will miss her more  as their growing fondness has been a Godsend for both as they search for their individual sense of purpose. 

Gone is my present resentment of not having the luxury of being able to take ten weeks off with no responsibility and my subsidy. At least for now, I am sated in the fact that this is how I want my life to be like, free of residents that have stayed too long no matter how much I love them. By the way  son and daughter in law,  if you are reading this, next to your mother, I do love you with all my heart.   

Crowded House

My step children will all be here today as my wife prepares a dinner for all of them and their spouses.  I am in a state of calm as I talk to my middle step daughter who in reality is the voice of reason. She has little patience for ineptitude and sloth.  I love that about her even though I do not have her acumen for the detail she is capable of and carries out in her life. 

Her fiance is an amiable sort of chap with a serious mind and a preponderance toward the lighter side of life. He is not caught up in the detail his future spouse is, and he lends his jocularity with almost free abandon. I think they are a great match but I am hardly one to be a judge of that.  My eldest daughter is my woman-child and I am always concerned about her and what damage the broken marriage did to her psyche. She is married to a gentle caring man and I am glad she is in his care.  

Little China

Things are relatively quiet up in Little China which is just upstairs in my house. I have quieted the savage beast in me that occasionally rears it’s ugly head. Even when that happens, I do not lose sight of how blessed that I am caring for offspring that are not my own. It has been a journey that started a little over 12 years ago, even though my apprenticeship as a Step Dad did not start on that first date in June. I had no idea back then of just how complex a task of love being a father figure would be. 

That seminal moment, when all three of my wife’s children arrived in Huntington for an overnight stay, and I started to feel selfishly crowded, I told my wife that I didn’t sign up for this. She said in no uncertain tones, Yes you did.  With a deep breath and a sigh I knew she was right, and I also knew that my lone wolf days were over.  

This summer has rocketed by and my role as father figure has to take a more active role  when my birds come back in late October.  It is for their own good that lovingly I bump them out of their perch and I know (even if they don’t) that they can fly. If they fall from the sky my hands will be outstretched even if I grumble a bit. My legacy as a step dad will be further tested and not without challenges because the future generation although not conceived yet (I hope) will be the next chapter, and one I am looking forward to. However, please don’t tell my kids that. 

What a Difference a Day Makes

What a difference a day makes. A song written by a Spanish composer and then translated into English lyrics in 1934 was made popular by Dinah Washington in 1959 if my information is correct. In any case, it is the day after and just like I thought the irate feelings have abated and this lesson alone is worth it’s weight in gold. I could now have a conversation about what made me mad with most of the anger filtered out. A wonderful idea in how to avoid arguments, wait but one day. I do feel remarkably  better. I am so glad I held my tongue because my voice now will be heard albeit in much more muted tones. Thank you again my friend and thank you too Dinah Washington. May your soul rest in peace. 

Tied Up in Anger

I am so fortunate to have a friend like Michael. For it is in his friendship that I can vent my frustration and anger without clouding up and raining all over my wife and family. In AA I discovered that if I waited just one day when anger struck that I would feel differently the very next day. In fact AA held the premise that anger was best left to those who could handle it. I am clearly not an expert getting my point across when I am hot under the collar.  However, still being subject to human emotion and character defects as well as shortcomings, it is not always easy to refrain and take the high road when it comes to anger. 

A mere fifteen minutes with my friend and my bonds have been loosened and there is a sense of calmness that covers me right now.  I will not claim that it is serenity, but given time and understanding that will return as well.  

The Cat's Out of the Bag

I want my step son to know that I love him and his wife.The choice he made choosing his  spouse was a stroke of pure brilliance. I want him also to know that the insight he had in finding his life partner is of the same talent he can use to make his own way in the world. 

It could be said that now the cat’s out of the bag because we never really seemed to have a dialogue about the specifics of our life together. I have been guilty of being an enabler and not done right by him. We should have had a family conversation long before an open forum on the internet. Okay, I can’t engage in revisionist history, but when he and his bride come back in late October we will have an open forum. I discussed this very issue with his mother this morning and I was surprised she agreed. Sometimes I don’t give her enough credit when it comes to matters of the heart and her children.  

The Chauffeur

Today as if my magic my step son and his wife had me carpeting them to the train station because they know I am the early riser and could I take them to the train station to get their visas for their upcoming two month hiatus to China.  I agreed because I so easily slip back into my  people pleasing mode and frankly it was not out of my way as I was headed to a spin class at my gym.  I told them that I could take them to the 4 minutes after the hour train and they agreed so they could avoid the carfare and they  didn’t feel they could ask their mother as she is not an early riser.  

However, both of them think that tardiness is a virtue and they had me waiting to taxi them.  Not a big deal I told myself but the resentment reared its ugly head again as my son has marshaled himself yet another vacation and this one, two months in duration. I reminded myself that they would be out of the house and the hotel I run was closed. Then it dawned on me that they would be back for yet another stint as I head into my junior year housing the married immigrant couple upstairs. Do I sound disgruntled?  I love them dearly but when do these robins leave the nest?

The Serenity Meter

I can truly measure where I am on my serenity meter when the little things my stepson does or more likely fails to do that amp up the needle of frustration.  In the silence of the morning while everyone is still fast asleep is where I notice most of the kitchen duties he leaves for “someone else” to perform. Today it was a full drainboard and two empty cartons of ‘stuff’ that only he ingests. More likely it is the water purifier container which he usually does not refill and I use when I make the morning coffee. It’s not an act of defiance I know this, it is just that he is in his own world of making plans that he cannot be aware of the simple things a household requires when there is more than one person living here besides himself. 

There are days that I want to respond in kind and leave virtually no water in the container as he does and when I am in a good space I ignore his complacency. I have asked him before so I do not expect him to be a mind reader but how much is enough? I hate having to sound like the old woman in a shoe to harp on these seemingly minor things that drive me up a wall. And no disrespect to old women living in a shoe because I don’t want to get fired writing this blog. He’s living in a dream world and his mother is always saying he knows what he needs to do. Knowing what to do and doing it can be a grand canyon leap with a broken leg.  

It’s a mid summer nights dream and soon the immigrants as I call them will be on their way half way round the world again on another two month hiatus. Gee I want this job in my next life. Where is the application? I just have to find a step-dad willing to indulge his wife like I do mine now. In any case I needed to get this off my mind as I head toward a fall where I can walk downstairs in my underwear or in just a T shirt. There is something to be said for bodily freedom. As a caveat in case they read this entry I do not hold my stepdaughter in the same light, she has been working in the salt mines with my wife on hand made jewelry which they are selling world wide now. She needs to see her family as her father went through a recent stroke.