Don't Throw Stones at Glass Houses

My Bonus Daughter lives with her Biomom and her grandparents in a neighboring state, so we are effectively holiday and summer parents. Every Summer my Bonus Daughter lives with us for 5 weeks. Typically we enroll her in Summer Day Camp for three weeks and for the remaining two weeks she gets to lounge at home with Dad, who works from home. We see these Day Camps as an opportunity for her to socialize and meet friends in our area, participate in activities, and of course camp provides much needed daycare for my husband and I. Unfortunately, we've been met with opposition to Day Camp the last couple of years. Bonus Daughter would like to stay at home with Dad for the entire 5 weeks, and she's backed up by Biomom. We've tried to explain that just because Dad works from home doesn't mean he is able to entertain Bonus Daughter all day long. But alas. We received yet another email from Biomom insisting that Bonus Daughter gets to have a say in the matter. Dad responded that he did not think it was productive for Bonus Daughter to stay at home and watch TV all day long. This resulted in a livid Biomom who immediately assumed he was criticizing her parenting skills. "Don't throw stones at glass houses," her tirade ended. I had a good laugh. To date, this is Biomom's most quotable line.

Last Spring I tried to explain our rationale to Bonus Daughter. She was 10 years old at the time. "What would you do at home all day long when Dad is working?" I asked, knowing very well that TV and books can only sustain her attention for so long.
"I'd go to the Mall," she said.
"You can't go the Mall alone, you're 10," I laughed.
"Well then I'd go for walks," she tried.
"And no, you can't go for walks by yourself, you're 10."

Somehow, whenever Bonus Daughter and I end up in some sort of debate, its about her wanting to do things on her own that I won't let her. Once she turned 11, I'd nip most arguments in the butt with "No, you can't. You're only 11."

The irony is that every year my Bonus Daughter thoroughly enjoys camp. We don't know anyone in our social circle with kids her age, so at least she meets friends in the area. Last year she begged to go for an extra week. Every year we remind her how much she ends up loving the camp, and every year she refuses to go and we end up having an argument with Biomom.

Last year our Summer visitation started with a rough patch. Biomom insisted on receiving the measurements for Bonus Daughter's bed, apparently the bed was not long enough. We explained that my even my 6'4 brother can comfortably stretch out on it. This evolved into a request for all measurements of the bed, including the depth and width of the matress. Dad and I, trying to avoid a confrontation, dutifully obliged. Next, Biomom requested a picture and then to asked to see our apartment. I think I am an incredibly rational person who usually tries to put myself in someone else's shoes and view things from their point of view. So we agreed to everything, but firmly said we would buy a new bed when it suited our budget and not under Biomom's pressure. Then Biomom decided that Bonus Daughter would bring an air matress to sleep on for the duration of the Summer. Even for me, this tested my lack of boundaries and pushed me over the edge.

When Bonus Daughter arrived with said air mattress, sheets and a comforter for it, I put my foot down. Afterall, it is my house too, and I was not going to be imposed upon and insulted like this any longer. "What is the problem with this bed?" I asked Bonus Daughter very calmly. She said that "I just like sleeping on a double bed. It's nice to stretch out." I explained that the room is too small for a double bed. I said no to the air matress then, and continued to say no three days later, when Biomom texted her asking if she was sleeping on the air matress yet. I'm not having any kid sleep on an air matress under my roof for 5 weeks when there's a perfectly good bed around. I could just picture Biomom down the road telling the court and/or girlfriends that we weren't providing a proper bed and that Bonus Daughter had to sleep on an air matress for 5 weeks.

I won that battle in the end. But I bit my tongue about everything else that Biomom stirred up prior to the Summer visitation. She dished up the past, and Dad's supposed lack of catering to his daughter's needs since birth. She went as far as saying he never wanted his daughter. All for a bed. I realized then that there are times when you just can't reason with someone because then you are assuming that they are rational, and you are discounting years of emotional baggage. Even rational me cannot reason my way around irrationality. So I restrained myself from picking up the phone and reminding Biomom that Dad had to sue her just to see his baby. He had to sue her for the right to be a Dad to his Daughter. My dear husband didn't entertain her arguments any further, he just stepped away. He said he realized that the past is still very much present in their interactions with each other. That's what I love about my husband, his ability to be a real grown-up in times like these.

I also bit my tongue when Bonus Daughter arrived for the Summer with what looked like emergency war supplies. Everything from her own band-aids to her own washing powder, and her mom wrote out instructions for how she was going to do all her own laundry. She had a bunch of snacks, of which I still have the caramel apple dip sitting in my cupboard. Apparently we don't give her enough desert. She brought an array of facial products and scented body wash that she never used and instead helped herself to mine. Now I don't mind her using my stuff at all, but the implication that we couldn't take care of her hurt me most. Biomom will probably never know how she loves my vanilla or almond body wash, and how my paraben-free carrot shampoo appealed to this little 11-year old. "Why aren't you using this strawberry body wash?" I asked her one day after noticing how quickly my stuff was running out. The strawberry stuff even made me feel 11 and jealous that I didn't have body wash growing up - it smelt so good I was tempted to eat it. "I don't like it," she said.

At the end of the summer, we caught Bonus Daughter pouring some product into the drain to make it look like she used it during the Summer. I said nothing to her or to Biomom. One has to pick your battles, right?

PS. When we dropped Bonus Daughter off after the Summer, I was invited to see Bonus Daughter's bedroom, in exchange for Biomom coming into our apartment. Bonus Daughter does not have a double bed at home, just a regular single bed.

Mother's Day Coda

I spent hours on Mother's Day thinking about my role in my stepdaughter's life. I was wondering why us stepmoms even put ourselves through the nervous anticipation of this day on our annual calendar. Finally I came to the conclusion that i am ok with being an afterthought on Mother's Day, because I can't possibly expect my bonus daughter to value me as much as she values her Biomom.

And then I read through other stepmom posts recounting their Mother's Days. One thing that stood out for me, is the deep gratitude for every friendly word and for every small gesture of appreciation that came our way on Mother's Day - from our spouses, the bonus kids, and some even from the Biomoms! We didn't all get appreciated by all three of the above parties -but we'll take as little as we can get.

Most of us stepmoms, we just want a kernel of recognition for our efforts and our good intentions. Mother's Day offers us this little glimmer of hope that we might be shown some tangible token of appreciation, much like Valentine's Day for couples. We just want to be recognized for our efforts and love and sweat equity and the restraint that we so often have to show in dealing with Biomoms, stepkids and our spouses.

On Monday evening,the day after Mother's Day, I arrived home from work. I didn't have any expectations, but there it was, a card that came in the mail. A Happy Mother's Day card.

The Awkwardness of Mother’s Day.

The first year after I married her Dad, my Bonus Daughter sent me a lovely
Handmade card for Mother’s Day. I had not anticipated a card at all, and I felt teary and giddy all at once. The next year a Hallmark card arrived, this time I assume her Biomom bought it for her and made sure it arrived via mail on time for Mother’s Day. I appreciated the joint effort from them both to ensure that I felt welcome and appreciated in her life. As she got older, the Mother’s day and birthday cards turned into email greeting cards, and finally into somewhat awkward phone calls. I really don’t take the lack of cards personally - Biomom is probably no longer buying me cards or reminding Bonus Daughter of my birthday. This year, my Bonus Daughter actually forgot my birthday. I think she actually felt as bad as I initially did, but you can’t hold that against an 11-year old - she's only 11 afterall.

So this year I waited in anticipation of the awkwardness of Mother’s Day.

Mother's Day is the day when I want to assure my Bonus Daughter that she doesn’t owe me anything, and that she doesn’t have any obligation to me. Personally I don’t really think I need to be thanked or appreciated, and I also don’t really think I need to intrude on this day that my bonus daughter shares with her Biomom. Yet, I have no idea how to approach the conversation. We have NEVER had the “mother” conversation. She’s never ever told me “You’re not my mom.” I’ve never tried to act like her mom, and I make it a point to never criticize her mom. We both silently refuse to acknowledge the word Stepmom or Stepdaughter in our vocabulary. I often wonder how she refers to me when she’s around her friends, but I don’t dare ask her. They’re at most awkward conversations to have, and we just don’t go there. But Mother’s Day is one of those days that you cannot ignore or forget as its everywhere.

Bonus Daughter’s call came at around 11 AM today. We chatted for a while, without a mention of Mother’s Day. When it came time to say goodbye, we exchanged I love you’s, and that was it. We ignored Mother’s Day. I felt very happy that she called me, but still somewhat weird, as I always do around Mother’s Day.

Truthfully, I feel awkward as I don’t think of myself as a Mother everyday because I don’t have my Bonus Daughter around me everyday. For the most part my daily life is vastly different from every other mom that I know - I’m consumed by my career ambitions, fitness goals, and daily calorie intake, while they sort out carpools and go to soccer games. Bonus Daughter lives with her mom in a neighboring state, and spends holidays, long weekends and a large chunk of her summer vacation with us.

When she is living with us, or when I speak to her on the phone once a week, I feel like a Bonus Mom. Usually people say when you have kids it changes your daily routine, well, ours only changes during these long weekends or over the long Summer break, when Dad and I become real parents. We organize fun weekend activities and plan meals, we watch less horror movies and rent more PG 13 fare. During this time, I concern myself with house rules and this is usually when I search the internet for the equivalent of “time outs” for tweens. This is also when I realize how little I know about kids today and parenthood in general. That’s when I fall back on how I was brought up by my own firm but loving mom. Thanks to my mother, at least I have a moral compass to guide me when it comes to my Bonus Daughter.

I spoke with my mom on the phone earlier, and she reminded me that she has a new daughter in her life, as my brother recently got married. This new daughter has no idea yet of whom my mother really is, and no idea of the amount of prayers my mother has said for me in her lifetime. This new daughter can’t possibly appreciate my mother as much as I do. This got me thinking about how easy and dangerous it can be to impose on the existing bond between a mom and her daughter. A mother raises her daughter with her own rules, love and values, almost as an extension of herself. As a daughter, you internalize your mom's moral compass - then you rebel against it - and finally you come to appreciate it like I do today. A day like Mother’s Day is exactly that, a day to honor and celebrate this person that has made your bed until the day that you could make your own.

I want my Bonus Daughter to be thankful to her Biomom for everything that I haven’t and can’t possibly do for her. I want her to celebrate and focus on her Biomom today. Forging new family ties is part of opening ourselves up to love, but we can’t do so without being in awe of, and with respect for these deeper, older, and more developed bonds. With this in mind I called my mother-in-law today, and thanked her for what’s she’s done for my husband throughout his life.

While I was on the phone talking to her, my Bonus Daughter sms'd me, about an hour after her initial call. “Sorry I totally forgot to say…HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY :-)”

I’m a mom of sorts, if only by affiliation with this little girl, so I feel very grateful and honored to be an afterthought today, and I truly mean this.

Stages of emotional development

My bonus daughter turned 12 today. When I asked how she felt about her age, she said, "Its so awkward when you're 11 or 12, people think you're a child until you're 13 or 14-ish. People think I look like a teen anyway." I secretly chuckled, and told her that she was very mature for her age. And I meant it, honestly.

Bonus Daughter is a very smart girl and I often have to remind myself that she is younger than she sounds. I've always thought of her like a little mini-adult. She has a very developed sense of personalized style and opinions, and she is also the queen of wit. I think I only discovered sarcasm during my university years, and she mastered it at age 7. With ipods and mytouches and the witty Disney dialogue, all kids sound less like kids to me anyway. That is probably the most pronounced difference between my stepdaughter and I - she is much more sophisticated at 12 than I am right now as an adult. My guess is that I have actually happened upon one of the hardest realities of parenthood: accepting that your kids are more intellectually stimulated and bound to surpass you sooner than later in overall competence and intelligence.

Some of these technological advances really challenge me as a bonus parent. Usually by the time one of those ever-changing devices like Wii's or whatever-else arrive in my home, their use is endorsed by biomom and anything Dad and I decide will be contentious. This summer, we have to figure out how to handle the new mytouch cell phone with 24-hour internet access. A few years ago I felt very uncomfortable when bonus daughter at age 7 arrived with a flat iron. I got one when I was 24 and burned a hole in my husband's faux leather chair. Remembering my terrible first burn, I had a tough time trusting even a very mature 7- year old with this tool of torture. And just by the way - how will your hair look after 20 years of straightening?

Maybe because she doesn't live with us year-round, and I have no exposure to other parents with 12-year olds, I just feel overall more clueless when it comes to the emotional development of a pre-teen in this technologically advanced world that is so different from how I grew up in Africa. I ran around in the streets and imagined little mini-computerized devices and secret passages and crooks. We improvized walkie-talkies, today my bonus daughter has several mini computerized devices. Who needs walkie-talkies anyway when you can text! I actually typed "female 12 year old emotional development" into my browser today. It's a little sad.

And in hindsight, I should have googled "presents for 12 year old girls." How was I supposed to know there is some designer actually designing jewelry for girls age 12 using crystals and gemstones and the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland? Her Biomom brought her this exquisite necklace for her birthday. "You probably haven't heard of this designer, have you?" she asked me. Sadly, no. The jewelry that I own are typically made by women from rural villages of South Africa with beads or copperwire. I kind of wish I bought my bonus daughter some sustainable jewelry to celebrate this 12th milestone. Maybe if I'd given her a lovely beaded necklace from an employment project for disadvantaged women, I could have taught her something in the process about responsible purchases.

My parents never bought us whatever we wanted whenever we wanted it, and today I'm the same. Instead, we treasured the birthday and Christmas gifts that they picked out for us and we attached sentimental value to them. I still remember what I got for Christmas when I was 12, it was a lovely silver signet necklace and signet ring. It got stolen years later when our house was broken into, and it broke my heart.

My best friend had an abundance of silver jewelry, dangling silver bangles, a silver ring on each finger and a number of silver chains around her neck. My mom did not want me looking like a Christmas tree, she said, but I loved how my friend sparkled when she wore the silver against her tanned skin. So I wore my classy silver Christmas gift set every day and it made me feel gorgeous. Now, I'm am not particularly concerned about external appearances. But my bonus daughter is. So I need to tap into those feelings of having been 12 once. I raided my dad's closet for army jerseys and my mom's for big buckle belts, all in the quest to develop my own style and sense of self. I need to do so for my little bonus daughter, because right now, the Alice in Wonderland one-of-a-kind designer necklace really shows that Biomom is thinking of her needs and her sense of identity. And I need to be more attuned to it.