I had a friend, who also happens to be a therapist, carefully tell me that they were surprised at my attitude towards my step-children, considering how I was brought up. This friend told me that I had shared stories over the years of my childhood that absolutely broke their heart. These were stories that I always tell matter-of-factly, without trying to garner sympathy, mostly out of entertainment. I feel like I've made my peace with my past, maybe a little TOO much.
Every second of my life was spent knowing I was a step-child. I was the only child from my parent's brief marriage and they both moved on to have their own families and I was somehow left in the middle. I know how it feels to have a step parent look at you and feel their contempt, their annoyance that you exist. It's not the best feeling. I was very self-aware as a child and picked up on everything the adults in my life thought they were hiding so well.
How could I go through life as an unwanted step-child and then be so mean about my own step-children? You'd think I'd be showering these kids with unconditional love, trying to make up for my own childhood. My friend had a point and I also had answers.
We can start with the obvious, I'm a horrible, selfish person. I think a dilemma a lot of step-parents have (if they're semi-decent) IS the guilt they feel at not being kind enough or loving enough towards their step-kids. And in my opinion, this is already a step above the step-parents I had in MY life. They never felt guilt, but actually felt justified in how I was treated. I recognize that I'm not being Christ-like (patient, charitable, loving) to my step-kids when I'm disciplining them or losing it at them. But I also have a desire to change and be more like the Savior. It hasn't happened yet, but is something I work towards little by little. My guilt lets me know that I'm not where I want to be yet and I am willing to work on it. I DO think I'm horrible, but this also helps motivate me to be better. It's a weird feeling raising kids with someone you love who sees these kids as perfect angels and you see them as wild devil children. And, it feels miserable when your spouse, who you love so much, has sadness in their eyes because of something you've done to their kids (like yelling at them or criticizing them).
So does this experience give me more empathy for the adults who raised me? Yes and no. I get not having patience for kids that aren't biologically mine. I understand how they felt. Why they couldn't hide it better though, is not so cool. The adults in my life never hid their feelings, nor did they bite their tongue. I was told by one step-parent that this person couldn't wait until I was away with the Other parent, so that they could feel like a real family. The funny thing was, I knew exactly how this step-parent felt and there was no need to verbalize it, really. But, thanks for being so honest? Hope YOU feel better now. . .? When I compare myself to my step-parents I am very confident that I am already doing a much better job. However, the bar was set so darn low, basically anyone who's not a total jerk would be better.
Also, my kids are SO completely different from me as a child. I responded VERY quickly to discipline and learned from my mistakes. I feared all four of my parents and if I got in trouble I made sure never to repeat anything even similar to that mistake. Our children don't respond to ANY kind of discipline. Yelling and time outs are like jokes to them. Even consequences and trying to take toys away are met with an almost defiant attitude. They have never said it, but I feel like they look at me and think, 'Go ahead, I have so many toys.' Nothing sticks. Nothing helps them progress towards better behavior. Obviously, this isn't completely their fault. They have years of being raised a certain way before I came into the picture and they don't have consistency in rules between our home and their other home. It's like staring into a losing battle. So does that help justify why I'm not a better step-parent? Maybe, maybe not.
I look at my four step-kids and think, I can't relate to anything you're going through. Their experience is so different from mine. The parents in their lives are nothing like mine and their attitude towards adults and authority is so alien to me. I was also a kid over 30 years ago and so much has changed in parenting. My experience as a child, of fearing adults and being obedient, is now looked at as antiquated and wrong in a way. Children are reasoned with and asked not to do things. Push-over adults didn't exist in the 70s and early 80s and so when I see our children talk back to my husband it's something I can barely wrap my head around. I'll watch as my husband is ignored after asking the kids to do something, so I turn into the meanie who chases the child, grabs them and says, 'Did you hear your father!? Do not ignore him!'
It's possible my style of parenting will lead my kids to hate me and demand therapy and that's valid. We can start a savings account for it now.
In all honesty, I don't think I would have changed very much from my childhood. I learned to enjoy alone time, in fact, I preferred it over almost anything. I took care of myself and didn't need emotional support from another person to make me feel important. When it came down to it, it was me and Heavenly Father. He was the only person who was ALWAYS there to comfort me and make me feel loved and I did. Don't think for a second I'm trying to make this sound like a pity party, I was confident and happy, especially when I left for college. From my freshman year, until I got married, I always managed to feel peace and joy, even when I was sad.
I feel like my years as a step-child helped prepare me more for my years as a single LDS woman than for being a step-parent. I think the one thing that I've lost that I need to get back is the closeness I felt to God. Since getting married, I've felt like I'm 'survival mode,' like a chicken with its head cut off. Needless to say, this isn't conducive to mediating with the Lord and feeling His hand in my life. So I need to work on this and maybe the patience and love for my step-children will follow?
I've sort of felt forgotten by Heavenly Father as of late. And if there's one thing I've learned in the church, it's that if I feel this way, it's all of me.
I was talking to a friend today about this feeling of being forgotten and they suggested I listen to some talks from the Europe Area Sisters Meetings. Particularly the talks by Sister Hallstrom, Elder Hallstrom and Elder Bednar. Elder Bednar's talk made me feel the Spirit so strongly I listened to it three times and just cried (good tears). I loved his words about 'strengthening power' and for praying to be an Agent of the Lord and not just an Object (having no capacity of acting for yourself). It reminded me that I have had moments over the last few years of feeling the Spirit, to the point where I couldn't deny God was real. No miracles, no huge blessing, no grand gestures on His part, but He was there nonetheless. I need to find a way to harness this in my life so it's a longer-lasting feeling. Then maybe I'll be nicer and less horrible. Maybe.
Showing posts with label therapy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label therapy. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Saturday, August 9, 2014
Step Parenting a Child with Behavioral Issues / Mental Disabilities or How to be Just Horrible
Is it fair to say you've reached an all time low when you let an 8 year old's comments make you cry?
When I met my husband's oldest child, let's call them "Child A," this child was 6 and immediately I knew there was something different about them. "A" was on the same level with the 3 year old child (Three! My Favorite Age!) socially and behaviorally.
It's interesting to observe a parent so closely, as I do with my husband, I can see how differently he loves each child in a completely unique way to that child. "Child A" is not the favorite (there are no favorites) but, they are the child who receives the most special treatment, the one my husband spends the most time fretting over, making sure "A" never feels too ostracized. It's exhausting and can be frustrating at times. "Child A" does not make ANYTHING easy.
Right now you're thinking, 'You big jerk, this is a child with special needs and you're complaining?!' Why, yes, I am. When I first met "A" I, too felt overprotective and a great, natural love for them. However over the last 2 years, I have been worn down from loving to barely tolerate. I see this child manipulate and control situations like a 3 year old on steroids. I see our whole family bend over backwards for "A" and "A" just wants even more.
When I first met "Child A" I was sure they had some form of autism and I researched about the subject and felt like I could help "A." However after months of elaborate tests and meetings with doctors and therapists the official diagnosis was that "A" does not fall on the autism spectrum and is not mentally retarded. Which means "Child A's" issues are behavioral as opposed to mental. Which made my tolerance level drop immediately.
"Child A" is perfectly sweet until they want something or want to do something and are told 'no.' Then "A" morphs into a little monster, complete with tantrums and violence. These range from ridiculous ("I want a Christmas Tree" in September) to, in my opinion, spoiled ("I want my own puppy," when at the Ex's house they have a family dog and cat and we bought this child their own bird and fish). Then, without fail, it starts: the whining which leads to tears which leads to trying to run away or kick, spit or hit.
I have had about 6 melt downs with this child (when my husband wasn't there) where I am often trying to hold down "A" and I'm the one crying. When "Child A" was 6, I could constrain them but now at age 8, "A" is too large in stature (and it doesn't help that I'm small and weak) for me to physically stop. I have been overpowered by "A" on more than one occasion. Very demeaning moments for me, like the one in the chapel during a sacrament talk where I fell over the child, feet up, dress up, on the floor (my husband was in the hall with the baby).
"Child A" has no self control and will eat until sick, but if you attempt to curtail the portions or say 'No, you can't have thirds,' there will be a fight. My husband will cave and "A" has eaten so much they have vomited later that night. I then turn into the mean one, the disciplinary who looks like they are starving a poor child. This has been my role since I started dating my husband and it's basically The Worst.
Thank goodness for therapy. I spoke with a therapist who had some basic advice, so basic I wanted to punch myself for not thinking about of it first. The first is: 80% of the time a child does not need to be disciplined right at that moment, especially if I have lost control of myself in that moment. I can let the child know they've done something wrong and it will be addressed, just not right then. The second was that I don't have to be the disciplinary. If my husband isn't there at the time of the incident, I can let the child know their father is going to handle it when he gets home. When he does get home I also need to briefly talk to him about my expectations of what should happen since I was the adult present. But, in the end, he is the biological father and I also need to respect his decision.
However, all this and my common sense went out the window last night.
Look, I know I'm the adult and a child is a child, but sometimes their comments hit at the core and break my heart, even when they don't mean to hurt me. It's not something I'm proud of. Not letting their remarks hurt is something I'm trying to correct all the time, it's on my 'To Do List' right after exercise 3 days a week and quit dairy. My achilles heel is when the kids talk about any time when 'mommy and daddy were married' or wishing that daddy was still married to mommy. I know! Not their fault and I need to be a grown up and smile lovingly and think, 'Poor dears, of course they don't mean to slight me, they just hurt.' Do I do that? Heck no!
Last night we finished with dinner and were going to drop the kids off at their mother's house. "Child A" protested that they didn't want to go and when my husband asked why, "A" responded with, "I don't want you to not be married to Mommy! I want you and Mommy to get back together and you live with us!" My husband tried to quiet "A" but "A" kept going and then the 5 year old started in on not wanting mommy and daddy to be broken up anymore. I wanted to turn around and snap, 'Then you should have told your mommy that when she was sleeping with her boyfriend!" or something along those lines. You know: Your mother did this, stop torturing your dad and disrespecting me. Anyway, I had spent an evening watching the kids, ordering their food, setting it up for them and making sure they were comfortable, especially "Child A" and I was worn out. Now our time together was ending and all "A" cared about was 'Getting the band back together' (more or less).
I was so upset by these comments, and I started to feel tears well up, so I got out of the car and told my husband to drop them off and I would take a walk. Thank goodness he let me. I needed to remove myself from the situation and calm down and reason with myself. If tests show this child doesn't have mental disabilities, then that means this child operates on a level of selfishness which is off the charts. This child is completely unaware of anyone else around them and can't comprehend why they can't get everything they want when they want, or even worse, say what they want whenever they want regardless of the audience. No matter how much I do or care for "Child A," I need to figure out how to accept that it will never be appreciated or mean that much to "A."
So I'm still trying to figure it out. Where does this child truly fall in the realm of disabilities? Surely, it has to be more than behavioral when the child eats and reasons like a 3 year old? Can I just tell all those tests to 'Buzz off, you REALLY botched this diagnosis?' Does the official diagnosis really hold so much weight with my own mental reasoning? Apparently it does, which is ironic because I grew up being told meditation would cure a headache and I still half-way believe this.
Me getting out of the car to clear my thoughts really affected my husband too. For once, I felt like he understood how hurt I feel when "Child A" is insensitive to me. When he picked me up he was visibly upset for me and felt truly sorry. In the past I think he would have been more calloused in his response to me; you know, 'Get over it! These are children!' But I think last night was a changing point for both of us, and maybe that's why we had this experience (my immature reaction and all).
I'm still in the midst of trying to work out my feelings for "Child A." I would be the world's biggest jerk if I couldn't forgive and forget this incident (well, I am the world's biggest jerk anyway for even complaining about an 8 year old with special needs). There are certain limits that I can't control: I can't control the amount of time I spend with "A" (sometimes I think more time would help), I can't control any chemical or emotional unbalance in this child's brain, and I can't control how this child feels (wanting mom and dad back together is perfectly natural, I saw 'The Parent Trap' staring Hayley Mills). Right now, prayer seems to be my biggest ray of hope. I can't change "A" and to change myself I need to be humble and pray all the time. And therapy. Lots of therapy.
When I met my husband's oldest child, let's call them "Child A," this child was 6 and immediately I knew there was something different about them. "A" was on the same level with the 3 year old child (Three! My Favorite Age!) socially and behaviorally.
It's interesting to observe a parent so closely, as I do with my husband, I can see how differently he loves each child in a completely unique way to that child. "Child A" is not the favorite (there are no favorites) but, they are the child who receives the most special treatment, the one my husband spends the most time fretting over, making sure "A" never feels too ostracized. It's exhausting and can be frustrating at times. "Child A" does not make ANYTHING easy.
Right now you're thinking, 'You big jerk, this is a child with special needs and you're complaining?!' Why, yes, I am. When I first met "A" I, too felt overprotective and a great, natural love for them. However over the last 2 years, I have been worn down from loving to barely tolerate. I see this child manipulate and control situations like a 3 year old on steroids. I see our whole family bend over backwards for "A" and "A" just wants even more.
When I first met "Child A" I was sure they had some form of autism and I researched about the subject and felt like I could help "A." However after months of elaborate tests and meetings with doctors and therapists the official diagnosis was that "A" does not fall on the autism spectrum and is not mentally retarded. Which means "Child A's" issues are behavioral as opposed to mental. Which made my tolerance level drop immediately.
"Child A" is perfectly sweet until they want something or want to do something and are told 'no.' Then "A" morphs into a little monster, complete with tantrums and violence. These range from ridiculous ("I want a Christmas Tree" in September) to, in my opinion, spoiled ("I want my own puppy," when at the Ex's house they have a family dog and cat and we bought this child their own bird and fish). Then, without fail, it starts: the whining which leads to tears which leads to trying to run away or kick, spit or hit.
I have had about 6 melt downs with this child (when my husband wasn't there) where I am often trying to hold down "A" and I'm the one crying. When "Child A" was 6, I could constrain them but now at age 8, "A" is too large in stature (and it doesn't help that I'm small and weak) for me to physically stop. I have been overpowered by "A" on more than one occasion. Very demeaning moments for me, like the one in the chapel during a sacrament talk where I fell over the child, feet up, dress up, on the floor (my husband was in the hall with the baby).
"Child A" has no self control and will eat until sick, but if you attempt to curtail the portions or say 'No, you can't have thirds,' there will be a fight. My husband will cave and "A" has eaten so much they have vomited later that night. I then turn into the mean one, the disciplinary who looks like they are starving a poor child. This has been my role since I started dating my husband and it's basically The Worst.
Thank goodness for therapy. I spoke with a therapist who had some basic advice, so basic I wanted to punch myself for not thinking about of it first. The first is: 80% of the time a child does not need to be disciplined right at that moment, especially if I have lost control of myself in that moment. I can let the child know they've done something wrong and it will be addressed, just not right then. The second was that I don't have to be the disciplinary. If my husband isn't there at the time of the incident, I can let the child know their father is going to handle it when he gets home. When he does get home I also need to briefly talk to him about my expectations of what should happen since I was the adult present. But, in the end, he is the biological father and I also need to respect his decision.
However, all this and my common sense went out the window last night.
Look, I know I'm the adult and a child is a child, but sometimes their comments hit at the core and break my heart, even when they don't mean to hurt me. It's not something I'm proud of. Not letting their remarks hurt is something I'm trying to correct all the time, it's on my 'To Do List' right after exercise 3 days a week and quit dairy. My achilles heel is when the kids talk about any time when 'mommy and daddy were married' or wishing that daddy was still married to mommy. I know! Not their fault and I need to be a grown up and smile lovingly and think, 'Poor dears, of course they don't mean to slight me, they just hurt.' Do I do that? Heck no!
Last night we finished with dinner and were going to drop the kids off at their mother's house. "Child A" protested that they didn't want to go and when my husband asked why, "A" responded with, "I don't want you to not be married to Mommy! I want you and Mommy to get back together and you live with us!" My husband tried to quiet "A" but "A" kept going and then the 5 year old started in on not wanting mommy and daddy to be broken up anymore. I wanted to turn around and snap, 'Then you should have told your mommy that when she was sleeping with her boyfriend!" or something along those lines. You know: Your mother did this, stop torturing your dad and disrespecting me. Anyway, I had spent an evening watching the kids, ordering their food, setting it up for them and making sure they were comfortable, especially "Child A" and I was worn out. Now our time together was ending and all "A" cared about was 'Getting the band back together' (more or less).
I was so upset by these comments, and I started to feel tears well up, so I got out of the car and told my husband to drop them off and I would take a walk. Thank goodness he let me. I needed to remove myself from the situation and calm down and reason with myself. If tests show this child doesn't have mental disabilities, then that means this child operates on a level of selfishness which is off the charts. This child is completely unaware of anyone else around them and can't comprehend why they can't get everything they want when they want, or even worse, say what they want whenever they want regardless of the audience. No matter how much I do or care for "Child A," I need to figure out how to accept that it will never be appreciated or mean that much to "A."
So I'm still trying to figure it out. Where does this child truly fall in the realm of disabilities? Surely, it has to be more than behavioral when the child eats and reasons like a 3 year old? Can I just tell all those tests to 'Buzz off, you REALLY botched this diagnosis?' Does the official diagnosis really hold so much weight with my own mental reasoning? Apparently it does, which is ironic because I grew up being told meditation would cure a headache and I still half-way believe this.
Me getting out of the car to clear my thoughts really affected my husband too. For once, I felt like he understood how hurt I feel when "Child A" is insensitive to me. When he picked me up he was visibly upset for me and felt truly sorry. In the past I think he would have been more calloused in his response to me; you know, 'Get over it! These are children!' But I think last night was a changing point for both of us, and maybe that's why we had this experience (my immature reaction and all).
I'm still in the midst of trying to work out my feelings for "Child A." I would be the world's biggest jerk if I couldn't forgive and forget this incident (well, I am the world's biggest jerk anyway for even complaining about an 8 year old with special needs). There are certain limits that I can't control: I can't control the amount of time I spend with "A" (sometimes I think more time would help), I can't control any chemical or emotional unbalance in this child's brain, and I can't control how this child feels (wanting mom and dad back together is perfectly natural, I saw 'The Parent Trap' staring Hayley Mills). Right now, prayer seems to be my biggest ray of hope. I can't change "A" and to change myself I need to be humble and pray all the time. And therapy. Lots of therapy.
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Struggling with Infertility + Step-Parenting = Not Fun
I have watched many people close to me struggle with infertility and they always seemed so positive or they acted like it wasn't a big deal, just one of those things that happens. For 18 months we have been trying to get pregnant and I am now in awe of those people. It is heart breaking and frustrating and every month you go through the same hope, even as you feel PMS creep up, and then sadness. When people ask me if I want my own children, since I have four already, I always politely smile and say, 'Yes.' However, when family or friends ask, I have less dignity and tell them 'Yes! and it's not happening and this is really hard!'
When my husband and I first got married, I thought, 'Well, if I can't have my own children I don't want to pursue intense fertility treatments, I'll just accept that it's not meant to be.' My husband even seemed to like this idea. I thought that my feelings for my step-children would meet any motherly desire. And you know what, they might in the end because I don't know what's going to happen in the future. But right now, today, after 18 failed attempts, I am struggling.
I was almost 35 when we got married and I knew it was possible my age could be an issue but I also thought in the back of my head, 'But I'm sure I can get pregnant.' When it didn't happen the range of emotions started with disappointment, melancholy and then worst of all, feeling like a failure. Irrational as it may be, I felt like a failure for not producing a child, especially since my husband tried 4 times and had 4 kids with his Ex (the Ex even had a child with her boyfriend, so this lady apparently can't Not get pregnant). Sobbing on the bed became a monthly ritual that I did in secret.
Loving and sweet as my husband is, he just didn't understand what I was going through. He and I were is completely different worlds. He was a father to 4 young children who were VERY close in age, so his parental needs were met (and then maybe exceeded) at an early age and he had 8 years of intense parenting under his belt. He had experienced pregnancy and child birth as a parent and raising a child from infancy on and he was still exhausted from it. The thought of starting ALL over again wasn't as appealing and I don't blame him. After a weekend with the kids I'm so tired I want to cry and I can't believe people do this and survive without having breaks. But I still want this for myself (I guess I hate sleep and date nights).
As months went by and still no baby, my emotions turned to frustration, impatience and resentment. I felt forgotten by Heavenly Father and slowly I started to take it out on the children. Not in an abusive way, Obviously, but I snapped at them more, I became stricter but not more loving and I had no patience. As soon as they arrived at our home I would find something to be angry about (literally spilt milk, and Yes! I know what they say about spilt milk! ugh!) and I felt justified in my snappy mood. My husband confronted me about a month ago, asking what was wrong because I was treating the children so differently. I knew I was but I had no explanation.
In the past when I had problems with needing more love for the kids I would just pray for it and this always worked. I was now on my knees pleading with Heavenly Father every night to give me more love and nothing was happening. In my heart I wanted to be my old, patient self, I wanted to change, but I felt like my prayers were being ignored as I grew even MORE impatient.
This wasn't fair to my husband or the children. I have never felt more out of control of my emotions and I needed help. So, recently I met with a therapist (more than once) and had some deep, personal revelations. The most important being this: my snappy temperament wasn't because the kids were naughty, it was deeper than that, I was angry at God for not blessing me with a child and taking this out on the kids. As soon as we had this breakthrough I felt awful because it was spot on. I really AM a horrible person! Yes, the kids are hyper and naughty at times but they needed someone who didn't yell or lose it over small things. I had become the wicked stepmother and they still loved me! Don't worry, I want to kick myself everyday.
What to do now?
Well, yesterday was better. Recognizing that I have become grouchier and why has helped a ton. When I felt myself getting impatient, I could step back and think, is this really something bad or am I taking out my frustrations on this child? Or as soon as my voice started to get louder I could stop and think, 'could I whisper this and get the same result?' (the answer was always Yes). I see that this could be something I have to continually work on, maybe forever, but it makes me happier and I know it makes my husband and the kids happier.
As far as infertility, I don't know what will happen. There are so many women who aren't able to have children and their lives go on, in fact I bet a lot of them have figured out how to be truly happy. I have no right to demand or expect a biological child from my Heavenly Father. Everyone has trials and some are heart breaking and some never go away, I just need to remember it's how I handle them that matters to God. But do you know what also helps? Hearing about some Hollywood actress who had a baby in her mid-40s.
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