Ruined Birthdays and Changed Perspectives, You Know, the Usual

When it comes down to it, my oldest child, Child A, ruined my birthday.  But don't worry, I know how ridiculous this sounds as I'm an adult in my late 30s and Child A is a 9 year old with special needs.

The thing with my birthday was, I kept trying to make the day NOT about my birthday.  We had family in town and they wanted me to have a special day.  It was incredibly thoughtful, however, since we had the 4 kids and my husband had to work, I wanted it to be as normal and not special as possible.  We tried to all go out and have a nice family nature walk (without my husband) and it ended with Child A refusing to leave the car and eventually becoming so mad they threw rocks at me.  Granted, they only hit my feet, but these weren't pebbles - they were rocks.  At another point in the day, Child A was so unhappy that they had to do everything our large group was doing and ran as fast as they could into a busy street.  Needless to say, ALL activities were cut short and we all came home in grumpy moods.  I tried to insist that my family leave me with the kids or at least Child A and go out and do something fun, but the mood had changed and they were now afraid to leave me alone with Child A.  Ah, motherhood, or more specifically, step-motherhood.

My husband left work a little early when he heard the panic and anger in my voice and then when he came home, in my opinion, proceeded to baby and coddle Child A.  Well, you can guess how that made me feel.  I was suddenly furious with my husband.  This wasn't new behavior.  I see something really messed up and when I ask him to discipline it turns into hugs and giggling.  I think this was the event that truly ruined my day, so maybe I need to say my husband AND our oldest ruined my day.  OK, I'm mostly joking - I know that deep down No One can ruin my day, except for me.  Only I can control how I feel and react and this day taught me that I had a LONG way to go with controlling my emotions, especially as the 'adult in this scenario.'

When I saw my husband barely discipline Child A and the two of them proceed to joke, I interrupted this maddening, sweet moment to talk to my husband alone.  Yes, I lost it.  I was so angry, that yet again, Child A had manipulated my husband and no lesson was learned.  It didn't help that as we argued, Child A stood outside the door yelling that they were hungry and needed food right that second.  My mom offered Child A some veggies and Child A refused saying they wanted pizza.  I could barely think straight I was so incensed.  The evening ended with my husband taking the kids back to their mother's house and us barely speaking.

Now, let me tell the good news.

For the last year we have been trying to diagnosis and figure out Child A.  Nothing fit or made sense.  My husband wasn't too concerned, because he had so much love for this child he was sure that if we just let Child A feel love, it would all work out.  Turns out, he wasn't too off on this one.  The child's mother had a genetic test done and showed that Child A has a syndrome closely related to Down Syndrome.  This syndrome usually manifests in horrible health problems and low IQs.  Our child wasn't diagnosed because Child A is actually a very advanced, mild case which is really rare.

We found this out a few days after my birthday and, suddenly my perspective shifted completely.  Instead of becoming so irate and frustrated with Child A, I felt gratitude that their case was so light and that this child was as advanced as they were.  There were no huge health issues and Child A can pretty much function in public school (with half special ed courses).  When I read about other children with the same syndrome, my heart broke and I counted all of us to be so blessed that we lucked out with Child A.  I NEVER thought I'd say that about this kid.

Things are completely different now for me because of this changed perspective.  I have more patience and am more protective of Child A.  I still discipline and occasionally (read: a lot of the time) lose my temper, but I make sure Child A is treated fairly considering their mental disability.  This child has turned into a walking miracle for me.  I am in awe of their progress and how they function in life.  The Doctor's said it was unheard of for children with this syndrome to go 9 years without a diagnosis, because usually, these children spend their whole lives in the hospital.

Isn't it crazy how a slight change in perspective (in our case, a few DNA strands testing a certain way) can change everything?  I am so grateful and when I think back on my silly birthday, I think about how well Child A acted, all things considered.  I don't have the biological love that my husband has for this child, but this diagnosis helps me feel more of the love my husband had all along.  It was such an answer to a prayer, as I  have been praying to have more compassion and love for this child and through this scientific diagnosis, I do.  I am just so grateful that Heavenly Father is so patient with me.  He knew all along what ailed this child and thank goodness he gave this child a patient, loving father here on earth to be the advocate and protector.  Man, I can be such a jerk!  Hopefully I'll always remember this when my calm, sweet husband does something that I deem 'too sweet' or 'too soft.'  But, knowing me, it might not happen right away.

Guess What? Heavenly Father Didn't Forget Me (duh, me!)

This last week has been so different from the last few months and I really think Elder Bednar's Talk quick started it.  My friend who suggested I listen to the Europe Sister's meeting was the friend I mentioned who seemed to go through harder trials than I have and when I need support her words and stories always comfort me.  I've said this to her and I'm sure I've written this, but in a weird way I'm glad she went through those trials.  No wait, that's not what I meant!  I am so grateful that when I have something I'm struggling with I was blessed with a friend who can show empathy and by sharing her experiences, my pain is lifted and I feel more peace.  I should send her flowers.

I feel so much closer to my Father in Heaven and I think writing about wanting to have a desire to be close to Him and telling those close to me I am struggling with this helped a ton.  Being honest that I didn't feel Him as of late and more than anything wanting those feeling back led to an outpouring of empathy, advice and council.  Thank goodness I admitted to it, because in all honesty, I felt really guilty and kind of horrible (as usual) about it.  I'm a return missionary and have never been inactive and yet I felt like I was just going through the motions of what I was supposed to do when it came to church stuff.  My testimony was intact and the thought of skipping church was never a question but I just didn't feel that spiritual connection I used to feel.  This connection was what used to allow me to feel joy and comfort even when I was sad.  It was like an armor that I had on constantly and usually didn't need but when I did need it, it kicked in and I felt immediate protection.

Struggling with infertility, finances, jobs, step-kids and ex-spouses had made me feel like prayers and fasting don't really work.  (I know, it's a wonder I haven't been struck down yet.)  I'm willing to do them and I haven't stopped praying but I just felt like they were useless.  (Again, I can't believe my computer hasn't exploded for writing these things.)  Thank goodness Heavenly Father is so patient with me and not only has He not struck me down but he's actually proved me wrong.  On Friday I did a session in the temple and before the session I wrote down some names for the prayer roll.  When I left the temple I had a text from one of those people out of the blue letting me know that things in life were looking good for them.  It made me want to cry.  Who cares if I'm not seeing results from my prayers, Heavenly Father blessing those I love seemed way more important and made me feel better than if He had answered ALL of my prayers.

But, He is aware of me and my little family.  We are in the process of renovating a house and at the moment 90% of our belongings are in storage. When we got the unit we were assigned to the second floor, even though there were slots open on the first floor.  I grumbled because it was more work waiting for the hot, stuffy elevator every time we loaded and unloaded.  Last week I received an email from our storage unit saying because of harsh rains the first floor had flooded and the first floor occupants had to move to the second floor.  I went to check out our unit just in case and the parking lot was full of moving vans and really angry people.  I saw as they carried out ruined paintings and furniture and a lot of their belongings were thrown away.  Suddenly I had a strong feeling that Heavenly Father was aware of me and He spared of us this because He was very involved in my life.  This little thing that I had complained about was now a huge blessing.

Also, last week, I had another friend come into town to just hang out and help me with everyday boring life.  She helped renovate the house we are working on, took care of the kids and made me laugh.  She herself is going through some crazy, hard trials and putting her life on hold to help me made me realize what a baby I was being and feel enormous gratitude for her and Heavenly Father.  I felt joy and things like reading the kids a story or taking them to a museum turned into something fun that we all enjoyed.  

And for the first time in a LONG time I started to look forward to seeing the kids.  Knowing I'd see them in 30 minutes made me smile like it used to in the old days.  Of course I still wasn't the perfect little step mom.  I lost it when our 5 year old, who has a problem with compulsive lying and bullying the youngest child, made the youngest cry and lied about it.  I try not to use the "H" word but I found myself yelling, 'I hate it when you lie!  Stop lying to my face!'  But, baby steps, right?  I'm excited to see them all today, even the liar.  The thing with this child is that they are #3 of 4 and completely forgotten (most of the time).  I think the lies and bullying comes from a desperation for attention.  I should be more patient knowing this, but I can only handle so much before I lose it.  I need more General Authority talks . . .  and ha! it's General Conference this weekend -- perfect timing.  Wait, was that another prayer answered?

I Can Empathize With Everyone Except My Step-Kids

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.

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.  

3 Year Old Kids are Hard / 3 Year Old Step-Kids are a Nightmare

When I met my Husband his kids were 6, 5, 3 and 0 (ok, 10 months, but 0 sounds better).  The 3-year-old was affectionate and pretty cute and I thought, 'this child is going to be so easy to love!'  Wrong.

When I was a mid-single, I once offered to babysit as a prize for a Relief Society auction.  The sister who won had 4 kids and the youngest was 3 and when I was babysitting I was convinced the 3-year-old was possessed by Satan.  He was not only belligerent but violent.  His older siblings just ignored him and were really helpful to me and this kid just seemed like the odd-man out.  I know now from my awesome 2 years of experience that he was probably seeking attention and felt confused and left out - but even with this as an excuse - he was a complete terror/jerk/ idiot.  The next day I was talking to a friend who had a ton of kids to ask her if it was possible that this child was demon spawn.  No, she said, something happens when they turn 3 and they leave you and go into this really difficult stage but they'll come back to you after a year.  She was so zen about it.  I tucked this away for the next time someone asked me to babysit and if a 3-year-old was involved, I'd decline.

Now here I was with a soon-to-be step child who was in the middle of being 3 and this child was a complete psycho.  I couldn't stand this child.  I'd think of the scriptures when the Savior said in Matthew (18:6) "But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that we were drowned int he depth of the sea."  I am NOT trying to make light of the Savior's words but I kept thinking, does this apply to me?  This child is nightmare and all I want to do is spank this child (NOTE: I have Never physically disciplined the children and I never will.)  Children in the scriptures were supposed to be our examples and they were going to inherit the Celestial Kingdom, not me.  But, did the Savior really know how awful kids could be?   Again, I'm not making a joke of His words, I genuinely struggled with this - like with tears and prayers.

I had seen my nieces and nephews and friends' kids have mini tantrums which, I get it, are normal.  But this child was manipulative and would hurt their older and younger siblings (as much as a puny 3 year-old could, I guess).  I wanted justice and progress and I was getting neither.  My husband would baby the child when they were being extra naughty and the child's behavior seemed to get worse.  I felt like I was in Crazy Town.  Did no one see what this little jerk was doing and saying?

Luckily, when the child hit 4 I noticed a change in behavior that had me thanking Heavenly Father in my prayers (literally).  I have since noticed though, this child is naughtier than the others and my husband thinks this is still cute, but I have my eye on them.

When the child is yours (adopted or birthed) you have a history with them, you've seen them go from helpless baby to curious toddler and then turn into a little devil child, so it's easier to remember the adorable times and remind yourself this is just a phase (hopefully).  When you're thrown into it - you want to pull your hair out and just be mean back to the kid.

I survived by removing myself from the situation (I used to leave the room all the time, especially at bedtime or nap time).  And reminding myself of my friend's words, that this was a phase and they'll come back to you when they hit 4.  And now we have another child hitting 3 and I can already see this child leave us and slowly creep into their own version of Crazy Town.  It's not easy but it is SLIGHTLY better, especially since this child was a really good 1- and 2-year-old.  And I pray a lot for very specific help; 'help me to remember this is just a phase and to be patient and love this child because this is really hard.'