We, err.. I got a dog. Apparently I don't like sleep.

After 5 years of asking for a dog for Christmas, my loving husband gives in.  "I'll take care of it, 100% responsibility, you won't have to do a single thing." I said.  Little did I know how much work a puppy is!  I've had dogs before, but nothing could have prepared me for the terror of an 8week old canine disguised as an adorable little fur ball.

Before I start, don't even harp on me about the "adopt, don't shop"... I have had nothing but rescues in the past and loved them dearly.  I went with a reputable breeder this time because I have a young child and I didn't want to risk getting an older dog with a bad past.  Selfish maybe, but that's not what this is about....

This incredible little creature was so sweet and timid the first 48 hours.  And then...

The teeth! Those razor-sharp tiny slivers of enamel do nothing but bite/gnaw and scratch EVERYTHING.  Not just my hands, but articles of clothing suddenly have holes in them, there are scratch marks on every stool/table legs, and more.  I couldn't pet him calmly for the first 2 weeks because he would go for the kill every time.   I tried everything from bones, chew toys, plenty of exercise and bitter apple spray that claims to be a bite deterrent.   He would sit by the fireplace and file his teeth on the brick!  The sound is cringeworthy.   Poor thing had major teething issues.  I have to say it took a good 4 weeks to get him to stop the incessant biting.  At least with me, the girls still have problems with him just wanting to nip at them all the time.  

I slept on the couch the first week or so while crate-training him but he's still a morning dog.  And I mean 5am barking until I get him outside kind of morning dog.  So after years of sleeping in and loving my beauty rest, I am now completely surrounded by early risers.  From my husband who is up at 6am to my daughter who follows him downstairs, my dog and I are the only ones walking the streets of my suburban SoCal neighborhood at sunrise.  I keep telling myself he's just on Eastern time, and so I make all my calls to friends and family on the East coast and enjoy the rest of the calm before the storm of daily life begins.

Did I mention we got the dog a mere 3 months after my 4yr old finally started sleeping through the night?  Yes, that's right.  I've had over 4 years of interrupted sleep... only to extend it further.  Willingly, this was my idea!  WTF?   I guess I'll keep saying "I'll sleep when I'm dead".

In the meantime, I'll keep drinking my coffee and my wine to get me through.  In my defense, here's an article on interrupted sleep. Interrupted sleep led to 31% reduction in positive mood

Friending your children, is it possible?

I can't help but feel grateful for this article someone recently shared on FaceBook.  It's about the foundation and balance of having a "friendship" with your children.  I have naively approached parenthood with more of a militant, "rules-are-rules, don't break them or you'll be punished" way.  Completely my parents fault, by the way.  They were strict Catholics and enforced the house rules more adamantly than I can ever imagine doing, leaving me to think I was being WAY more lenient than them.  Which is true, but I still lose my shit when I can't control something I think I 'should' as the adult.  Hindsight, this approach often only alienated the children and caused a great deal of anxiety and resentment for both parties involved.
Now of course children still need rules but letting go of petty things like cleaning their rooms (I now just close the door) and I am now focusing on embracing their quirkiness, poor hygiene habits and allowing them to be themselves.  Hopefully this establishes a mutual respect that will last a lifetime.

The good thing is that it's not too late to start anew, forge ahead with an open mind and heart.


http://www.elephantjournal.com/2014/07/why-some-parents-their-children-have-great-friendships/

EXTRA! EXTRA! I have 3 children!

As it turns out.. I continue to struggle to accept that, despite living a lifestyle parallel to Carrie Bradshaw's less than 5 years ago, I now have a husband, a 17, a 14 and a 3 year old. My issues range from toddlers wetting the bed to drama surrounding college applications and first periods.

Not only did I relocate to a mostly un-diverse, practically rural town, in a new country, on the opposite side of the continent, I also inherited teenage angst and was catapulted into motherhood.  Obviously, with this and other step parenting blogs/books/information exchange, I expect to have this mastered by the time my bio-daughter reaches puberty.

Recently, I read somewhere about how my bio-daughter doesn't distinguish between her brother & sister.  She would never refer to them as half-siblings and so why should I?  She adores her older siblings, as they do her.  We have seen sides of these teenagers we never would know if it wasn't for my littlest one screaming "I LOVE YOU" repeatedly until she gets the response she wants every morning.

Why can't I just accept the same theory.  And so that's what I'm working on lately.  It hasn't been easy.  The fact that they have a bio-mom always affects my quest to being the maternal representation in their lives.  Is it the stigma attached to trying so hard to not become the 'wicked' stepmother that I've lost my way?  Perhaps.

At the end of the day, all 3 of these children will grow-up, move out and start families of their own.  They will likely have blended families, and I want ours to be the example of a well-functioning one.


Below is part of an article I came across today, some parts helpful, others not so much; read on for more @ www.winningstepfamilies.com

Have Realistic Expectations

• Instant love and adjustment is not realistic.
• It may take 4 to 7 years to go through the stages of stepfamily development.
• Step relationships will never be the same as biological relationships.
• It's OK not to love your stepchildren. 
• Do not compare family success to a first marriage model.

This being my only marriage, I can only approach with nothing but love and devotion.

I think I can.. I think I can.

Many supportive friends say I'm a great stepmother and that these kids will appreciate it some day.  I fear not.  I believe they will only truly understand my position/effort/love/dedication if they become a stepparent themselves.  Which doesn't usually qualify as what one wants to be "when I grow up"...

A savings account of love? Say what?

These last few weeks (months according to my husband) have been quite difficult on our marriage.  When we ask ourselves why, his response is that I need therapy or anger management, while my response is the (step) kids are driving me bat-shit-crazy.   The raising of teenagers is patient parenting X100000000000.  I love these kids, they're truly incredible and kind, but boy can I take them or leave them sometimes.
This holiday season was tough, lovely and wonderful in the way holidays are so much more fun with kids.  Except when everyone in the family gets sick.  Be it the common cold or the flu, there were 3 members out of commission.  Mix that with school break, and couch potato-ing becomes an olympic sport in this house.  I'm surprised there wasn't a champion for the one who used the bathroom the most.  It was painful to witness.

So I feel tremendous relief when I come across an article by Wednesday Martin Ph.D., author of Stepmonster (stepmonster I am not) that justifies my warp-speed anger/resentment about having to pick up another pair of shoes or 10 dirty tissues off the living room floor.  The article highlights the challenging personalities of teenagers and how, basically, if you didn't give birth to these angry little buggers, it's that much harder to keep your cool during adolescence.  As good as these kids are, they're still 13 & 17 years old and incessantly moody.

The bright side? Only 18 months before the first goes to college!

teens-can-drive-you-nuts-especially-when-theyre-not-yours

Serenity now. Praying for no insanity later...

Also, check out Mrs. Martin's blog for more information about raising these other people's children we get to call our own.  http://wednesdaymartin.com/blog/

Hygiene and the teenage girl

I've lived with these teenagers for nearly 4 years now.  The boy has showered everyday, sometimes twice a day since I can remember.  What he does during the 45 minute alone time in the shower is none of my business.  (Suffice to say I never had a brother so I just as soon not think about it.)  My teenage step daughter on the other hand, practically has to be threatened to get her in the shower.   Her hair gets so oily, it looks wet.  And the body odor is unbearable and reminiscent of my days living in the city.  When I'd walk by an alley with homeless people.  That burn your nose hairs stench.

Shocking? Not really, just refer back to my blog about the matted hair issue.  I talk to other moms of teenage girls and this is apparently quite common.  This species doesn't like to shower in general.  Apparently one day, the switch is flipped and they start taking 45 minute showers too.  I just hope that switch happens soon.  The whole pleading with her to bathe is getting a little annoying.  Ok, a lot annoying.  I just don't get it.  I grew up with 2 older sisters and there's no way my mother would let us get away with 2 days of not washing up.  Which is the rule I apply to my 3 year old.

I'm going to go wash my hair now....

Dress code malfunction

I'm at a lunch/business meeting when I get a text from my 13 year old telling me she got a dress code violation and needed me to bring her a sweater to cover her shoulders.  I immediately think she's probably wearing a tank top with spaghetti straps.  The school is quite rigid on exposed shoulders.  Unfortunately I can't make it back to her before the end of the school day so she gets the consequence of wearing her PE/gym uniform all day.  Which, you can imagine, is quite the punishment for a trendy teenage girl.

Turns out, the sweater I thought she needed wouldn't have made much difference since she was wearing her one-piece romper.  Which would be fine if she didn't have mile long legs.  For perspective, we're both 5'7, but her legs are at least 3-4 inches longer.  Something that makes me jealous but I've learned to accept my long torso over the years.  Somewhat. Not really.

Her legs are so long that a friend of mine nicknamed her Baby Giraffe.  We often refer to her as Baby G.... So when she becomes famous (she's convinced is a matter of time) she already has her rapper name.  "Baby G. in da house!"