'Til work do us part

Once upon a time I dated a workaholic. I don't know if what we did was considered dating, but he was consistent with his infrequent calls for my companionship. This particular guy always seemed to be working which is what he attributed his infrequent calls to. He claimed he'd see me more, but work was his life. If he wasn't in the office for hours on end, he was travelling. Eventually, I saw the "relationship" for what it was: he was married to his job and I was the mistress.

He claimed he had strong feelings for me. I claimed I didn't want to be second fiddle. I vowed then and there to never have that kind of relationship again.

I often told the suitor that if he didn't put more effort into actually having a real relationship with me, then some sweet fella would swoop in and take the job away from him.

Ironically enough, my husband was the swooper.

When I met my husband, he was in the midst of a divorce. The divorce, his father's illness, our triple move score from apartment to townhouse to house in two years consumed most of his brain. As did a few job hops.

When my husband reached the place of business he's at now, he'd started to find his stride. He'd always been good at what he did, but at this point, he became golden. He was speaking, he was writing, he was being asked to fly to places unknown to consult. He was a Golden God.

And then, the economy hit.

The Golden God status meant that he was desirable in other parts of the country, not just here. His specialties meant that there was a strong likelihood he'd have to work in another city or state if he wanted to stay employed. I struggled with the idea that my husband might have to relocate.

And then, my stepchild got sick.

Around the same time as the admission to treatment, my husband found out he would, in fact, need to relocate. At first, he was told it would be a one week here; one week there ordeal. But then, as luck would have it, we found out it was to be at least a two month gig with only 48-hour weekend passes to come home.

He took the gig. And that is how I became a commuter wife.

Now that I've been doing this for a few weeks, I'm torn on how I feel about it. I struggle with the admission that I actually enjoy the solitude. I miss my husband when I feel like I want a hug or a kiss on he cheek. I really miss him when my kids' mom and I are struggling with transportation logistics.

I talk to my husband nearly every night. I get to hear about his day and what he's eating for dinner or where he's planning to hike. I try to keep him informed of what's going on back home without adding anything about how frustrated we all are that he's not here.

The collective frustration from the kids, their mom and I worries me at times.

I try to put myself in the shoes of an Army wife. Would I still feel the same way if my husband was deployed to Iraq? Would I feel angry at the situation if it was the U.S. Government that deployed my husband and not some company? What I do know is that I keep a lot of my frustration inside. Raising my voice about it won't do any good. It won't change anything.

And so I'll continue on being a commuter wife. Regardless of the length of this engagement, I'll sit next to my stepchildren and their mom as if I was Dad. I'll deliver twice as many hugs, compliments and kisses. I'll be the proxy until life resumes back to normal.

Whatever normal is.

The care and handling of cats, kids and stepparents

As I mentioned in my Husband's away post, we recently adopted two 1-year old cats. I should rephrase that...I adopted two 1-year old cats. My husband, as you read in the post, is living in Seattle right now because of work. The kids are over half the week and on weekends and LOVE to play with the precious little girls. 

I've noticed a few similarities in acclimating cats and stepkids (or even stepparents) into a new house:

• Have a safe room. When bringing new animals into a home, it's recommended that you have a safe room. A place where the animal(s) can retreat when they feel scared or just need to escape. In her book, Becoming a Stepmom, my friend Jacque Fletcher recommends designating a room of the house as a safe room even if that room is the bathroom or bedroom. 
• Go gently into that good night. When you first bring animal(s) home, you cannot assume they will love you right off the bat. There will be a period of adjustment as they sniff you out and assess whether or not you're going to harm them or hold them. You're supposed to let them come to you. Stepkids have a very similar introduction mechanism. Don't automatically go in for the good night kiss. Let the kids come to you first. If the kids (or cats, dogs, etc.) don't instantly jump into your lap, don't fret. They're still warming up to you. 
• Just add toys. Our current cat, Puppy Cat, loves his catnip pillows. He's wrestled more than one to smithereens and continues to do so even into his 7th year of life. I've been guilty on more than one occasion of buying my fur baby toys to keep him happy. With the new girls, I've purchased a slew of furry catnip pillows, feather chasers, rolly balls. They seem to like these fun perks of family membership which makes me happy. The same goes for stepkids. While I won't indulge every "I want" I hear, I've also adopted more of a laid back attitude when it comes to buying a toy or pair of jeans for the kids. If it reminds them that we're all in this together and that Stepmom isn't hording money then who does it hurt, right? 
• Enjoy the moments when they come to you. The new kitties are still a little skittish around me, but there are moments when they'll come up to me in the morning for a neck tickle or an ear massage. While I'm usually in the middle of getting ready, I also try to remind myself that they came to me wanting attention. Shouldn't I take a few minutes out of my day and indulge them their neck tickles? Who knows the next time they'll come to me for that. Same thing with the stepkids. They love their mom first and foremost. While I have a really awesome relationship with my stepkids, I hold on tightly to those times when they want to cuddle with me or hug me or want to hang with me. 

Those are a few of my observations. What are yours? 

Do you have a stepparent role model?

Have you ever stopped to think if you have a stepparent role model? 

I have personal and professional role models -- I imagine nearly everyone does -- that I respect a great deal. Some of these role models I know personally; some of them I read about online or through Twitter. 

One of the role models I like to observe is Ashton Kutcher. Sure, he's easy on the eyes and has Midwestern roots which make him a total catch regardless, but he's also taken on the stepparent role really well. He's managed not to sling mud though the single person to stepparent transition. I read on sites like People.com and EntertainmentWeekly.com that Bruce Willis, Ashton Kutcher, Demi and the girls even spend vacations together. 

If that's not all for one and one for all, I don't know what is. 

I'm not famous, nor will I ever be famous, but I like that there are famous stepparents out there to serve as role models out. Who are yours? 

when the husband's away, the stepmom will...

I've finally started to get into the grove of this commuter-wife thing. There have been a few moments where I've broken down into tears because of exhaustion and a feeling of lack of support, but all-in-all, I've turned this lemon-esque situation into a big ol' vat of lemonade. 

Consider the changes I'm making (or have made):

• The kids and I adopted two 1-year old cats. (shown below). We didn't intend to adopt two. Even before the hospitalization, I'd talked about us getting a playmate for our current kitty -- Puppy Cat. Once the stepkid was stablized, we set out to PetSmart one Sunday and found the local Humane Society's most adorable twin tabbies. I should add they look exactly like our current cat which is hilarious when they're all together. We're all getting along well and the scamper of little paws around the house at night reminds me that I'm not totally alone in this house. 
• I'm taking Karate. My first official breakup 10 years ago turned me on to kickboxing. Seeing my stepson graduate from his pre-white belt class stirred the urge again and I'm signing up for a Wednesday night Adult Karate class. HI-YAH!!!!!!!
• I've been going to bed at 8; waking up at 4. Okay, I'm not too proud of this one and I really hope it stops soon because I think it's contributing to my mid-day exhaustion festival. 
• My house feels organized. 'nuff said. 
• I'm getting the itch to write a book about stepmotherdom. Maybe it's because a lot of my stepmom friends are wrapping up their first books or maybe it's because I find writing cathartic, but I'm tossing around ideas in my brain about what the book would be about and what I'd call it. So far, I've got The Stepmom Experiment: My Misadventures in Stepparenting with pages filled with my conversion from stepdaughter to single girl to stepmom and what I've done -- personally as well as electronically -- to help other women in the same position. 

Do you find that you're more productive when everyone's out of the house?

fight or flight

I have reached the point in this ordeal where I am utterly exhausted. It seemed to happen rather suddenly over the past weekend. One day I was bopping about from place to place like I have been for the last month and a half and then suddenly, it was like someone sucked the energy out of my body. 

If I hadn't just finished up a cold and my period I would have considered illness or pregnancy.  Unfortunately, the exhaustion has stuck with me through thick and thin in the past few days. I can't seem to shake it. I want to make my like cats and curl up into a furry ball and sleep the day away. 

I was starting to get a little worried until my mom, who also happens to be a nurse, told me the physiological reason for my exhaustion: I'm out of adrenaline. 

It hadn't occurred to me that one of the reasons I wasn't operating at the same capacity as I had been was that I ran out of juice. Here I thought the antidepressants were my sanity savers. Turns out, my flight or fight response kicked into full gear upon feeling the one-two punch of a sick stepchild and a relocated husband. 

I've been operating on adrenaline ever since. That is until I ran out of it this weekend. 

Right now, on 2 p.m. on a Monday afternoon, I feel as though it ought to be midnight. If I didn't have to leave in 20 minutes for an evening's worth of family sessions, I'd be in yoga pants and a sweatshirt with my laptop affixed to my lap. 

My body parts are telling me to take a day off, but my brain is reminding me that I have a luxurious work-from-home situation where I get to be at home working three days out of the week until further notice (I just want to add that I'm extremely lucky work for one of the most understanding media companies in the Chicago area). Even if I took a day off, I'd still be on the computer because that's the kind of geek I am. 

So until my adrenaline comes back, I'm in exhaustion mode. You'll find me on the couch, sipping a Coke Zero waiting for my energy to come skipping back into my open arms....

Can you be your own hero?

Today's horoscope, compliments of the ChicagoTribune: 

Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18): 9. Reading about how some other hero handled a tough situation gives you ideas you can use when you're in a difficult spot. 

Maybe I'm full of myself, but reading this got me to wondering: Can you be your own hero? 

On our way up to O'Hare Airport at 6 a.m., my husband and I got into a discussion about men and women and modesty versus pride. 

My husband and I are both successful in our own right. He's a great programmer and speaker and I'm good enough at social media and web work to be a paid consultant. 

Throughout our 5 1/2 years together, I've watched my husband grow professionally. He went from being a  good programmer to being a great one. He's consulted in India and has written a book based on his programming and consulting expertise. Everyone who's ever met him could you tell you this about him because he's proud of it and he talks about it. 

Unless you read this blog or are in my inner circle, you probably don't know to what extent I've stepped up to the parent plate during one of the most stressful times in our blended family life. You probably don't know that I'm co-creating a website and consulting business based on social media. You probably haven't even heard about the many clients I consult or ghostwrite for online. Most likely, you haven't heard that my CEO considers me a 'manager's dream' because of my hunger to learn all things digital. 

During our early morning conversation, my husband and I took the typical gender sides: Women aren't taught to gloat so we don't; men are shown the merits of boasting so they do. 

Unless someone were to assign the word to me, I wouldn't call myself a hero. I have a hard enough time when friends tell me how strong I'm being or what a "rockstar" of a person I am for taking on so much and not going publicly ape shit. 

The person I see in the mirror is a really loving, supportive stepparent, wife and child. Not a superwoman hero. 

Heroes are the ones that save people from near death experiences or pull them from the depths of their darkest days. Heroes don't privately look forward to having a whole Sunday to themselves because their husband and kids are out of the house for the rest of the weekend. Or do they?  

The speculation gets back to the conversation my husband and I had this morning. Am I a hero in stepmom's clothing? 

I wish I could write more about my tough situation. As I've mentioned, it's private and not really for public consumption. Needless to say, my life is in a tough situation right now. I've got a very small support system for a very large ordeal. 

If I were to listen to my horoscope this morning and read about how another hero handled a difficult situation I guess I'd get a few pointers. 

But that would mean I'd have to consider myself a hero first. 

me times three

My new quasi-single-stepparent-to-a-healing-child life has had a seriously disappointing side effect. It's not sadness or loneliness. It's not an empty bed. It's not anger, frustration or anxiety. No, this new life has given me poundage.

As in, I lost 25 pounds 4 months ago and now I think 10 of them have found me again.

In my single days, one of the stand-by activities I could always count on was working out. I was good at the treadmill or elliptical trainer and really kicked it with weights. I would only put in my pantry foods that I wanted to eat that didn't have a lot of calories in them.

I was thin, I was svelte. I was probably on the border of anorexia.

Fast forward 6 years. I'm single Sunday through Friday except my pantry has to be stocked with almost any full-fat food you could imagine (if it's got the words "diet" or "light/lite" it can't cross the threshold of our front door). I've got to be on the ready to feed kids that may or may not be with me for dinner and be able to feed them a complete meal of their choosing. (The reasoning is related to the health issue we've been dealing with).

Despite not having kids sleeping down the hall from me most nights, I don't really workout very often because by the time the kids have gone home with their mom and I've made up the work I've missed due to the multiple drives from school to treatment back to school and back to treatment, I'm too tired (not to mention I hate working out at 9 p.m.) to hit the treadmill downstairs.

And that Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream in the freezer? It wants in my bed as badly as my husband does every night. Sadly, the Ice Cream has seen more of my thighs than my husband has.

I've replaced hugs and kisses at night with bowls of ice cream and Kraft 2% singles and I don't know how to stop.

My willpower has gone to shit.

Maybe I'm not as okay with this arrangement as I thought. Maybe my loss of willpower lately is a symptom of a deeper anger or depression than I realized.

I'm at an odd place.

On the one hand, I'd like to credit my cheerful disposition to the improving weather and sunny, snowless days. On the otherhand, I think the antidepressants I was sucking down every day for the last month may have had something to do with my not going postal while my husband has relocated and I'm helping to care for two children who aren't biologically mine.

I feel happier than I did a few months ago. My life is certainly more stressful now than it has ever been yet I don't feel that way. It's got to be the drugs, right?

But if the drugs are helping me beat the depression then why am I finding comfort with Ben and Jerry instead of Mr. Treadmill and Mrs. Bike?

Thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions? I could really use some advice, words of inspiration -- whatever you've got that you lovelies can throw my way.

help.

What I'm reading right now: The Stepmother

I know...I know... I've been incommunicado this week. What can I say, I've had a lot of things on my plate. 

No matter how busy I am, I always save some time for good old fashioned reading. This week's pick is a book I found at Target by accident: The Stepmother, by Carrie Adams.  

I'm only half-way through the book so far, but it's a refreshing read. The two main characters -- Bea, the bio mom; Tessa, the soon-to-be stepmom -- are at the stage in the book where Tessa is trying really hard to be liked by all of the kids just as their father tells them she's going to be their new stepmom. 

I like this book so far for a few reasons: It's fiction. There are a rare few pieces of fiction that are focused on stepmothers (at least with a positive spin anyway). Also, I'm reminded and enlightened as to what both sides of the family go through when "the new woman" comes into the picture. 

I'll do a full review when I'm finished with the book, but if you're at Target or on Amazon.com and are looking for a Stepmom-focused book to read, consider The Stepmother. 

Confessions of a Commuter Wife

This weekend is the official kickoff of my commuter-wifedom. 

My husband left on Friday for a speaking weekend in Canada and then is off to Seattle for the week. He comes home next Friday for two days and then heads back to Seattle Sun-Friday. This is going to be our life for the next 7 weeks, maybe longer. 

I've had mixed feelings about the situation. I've needed time to myself and this weekend certainly provided it. I also have certain neat freak habits that being home alone allows me to do (like filing bills right after they're paid and not letting the mail sit on the kitchen counter for weeks). 

On the otherhand, well....actually....right now there is no otherhand. Ask me in the middle of the week when I'm up to my eyeballs in taking care of getting this kid to that place and that kid to this place and I may have a different story to tell. 

Then again, I probably won't. 

The commuter wife life isn't going to be a lot different than the life we've had for a while. I've always sort of been the stepmom who took charge of the house while my husband did his own thing. With our situation right now, my husband is a plane ride away and not a car ride. 

The commuter wife life has taught me a few things though, particularly about my relationships: 

• I've developed a stronger bond with my kids' mom. We check in just to say hi and I've even been known to pop in with groceries if one of the kids wants a food she didn't have.
• My husband and I can survive without each other. Sure, we love each other, but I can go a few days without talking him and know that he still loves me. This weekend is a prime example. We've exchanged a few e-mails but that's about it. 
• My stepkids really do think I'm a good mother. I'm in awe sometimes of how they open up with me and get excited to tell me things. We don't shy away from saying "I love you" in front of their mom or her family. In fact, the kids may stay with me some evenings even though their dad isn't here just because, well, they kind of miss me. 
• And lastly, myself. I'm toying around with the idea of going off of my antidepressant. I've been on it for a month and it's done wonders for me. I can safely say it's gotten me through one of the most stressful times in my life so far. But, the weather is getting better and I've stuck with the mantra "It is what it is" to answer all of these curve balls life has thrown at me. Sure I've gotten angry a few times in the last few weeks but I pop a Xanax and I'm calmer (well, that and having a kid be really sick puts things into perspective). 

So that's my story right now. 

I'm sitting at the kitchen table ready to get a few minutes' worth of social media work done before the kids and I head off to find ourselves a new kitten to adopt. 

If only they sainted Stepmoms

When we last left our heroine, she was contemplating the beauty of her new brand of family. Underneath her bravado, however, she was in the throws of an existential crisis: Follow her husband to the Pacific Northwest for his new work engagement or stay home and help take care of stepkids..... 

Fade to reality

Hi. It's me again. Sorry if I left people hanging. I used to be a 3-4 times a week poster and I think it's been, what, a week since I wrote something. Can you tell I've been a little preoccupied? 

I have been preoccupied with my family or at least my family's new reality. That new reality being that my husband is working in the Pacific Northwest for at least the next two months but probably longer (coming home every other weekend).  I have decided to stay home and help my kids' mom take care of the kids and nurse one stepkid back to health while helping the other keep things as normal as possible. 

It's been a lot to digest and, frankly, I'm still working through it. All I can say right now is that I were up accepting an award for bravery, the first things I'd thank are my anti-depressant and Xanax without whom I don't know if I could have gotten through this. 

This past month has been one of those life-changing moments that I know I'll look back on my life and remember. It's like in a movie or book when you can see the main character reach a climactic point where their decision will impact the rest of the storyline. 

In my storyline, I decided to for the kids. My stepkids. 

My decision may have been different than most stepmoms and I don't know how many bio-moms would have accepted it either. I'm extremely lucky that my kids' mom and I are friends and know we can lean on each other. 

I know that a lot stepmoms, if given the opportunity, would have followed their husbands to the new home away from home. I know a lot of bio-moms wouldn't have necessarily welcomed the stepmom into dad's role as care-giver while dad's away. 

But I have. We have. 

Our friends and family are starting to talk about what's going on. How I'm handling this really well and how I'm pretty close to sainthood as far as stepmoms go. I don't know about that, but while I am sure about my decision to stay and help my kids, I sometimes wonder if I just look like a freak for doing this. 

I mean, who would stay back with kids that weren't yours and an ex-wife that wasn't yours and let the man you did chose to marry live a life on his own? 

I guess I would. I guess being a constant for my kids is more important to me right now than making dinner for my husband in a city I'm unfamiliar with. 

If you were in my shoes, would you have made the same decision? 

Ode to a new kind of family

Last night, I was visiting one of my stepchildren in the hospital. The patient's mom was there as was their sibling. We all cuddled in the same space, commenting about a gift the patient had received.

The husband -- our husband, the patient's mom and I's -- is 2,000 miles away. He's kicking off the first week of a potentially year-long commuter marriage.

We all -- the patient, sibling, patient's mom and I -- made a comment about a family portrait. We decided that starting this year, we're going to start doing a family portrait with the five of us in it. All five of us: Mom 1, Mom 2 (Stepmom), Dad, Stepdaughter and Stepson. We're going to make it a yearly tradition as we watch our family evolve.

We will evolve. We've already evolved.

We started out as a single woman, divorcing dad and disappointed soon-to-be ex-wife. We fought, we argued, we moved. Once we figured out being friends was easier and more beneficial to everyone involved, we decided we'd evolve from there.

And we've evolved. We've evolved into a family -- our family. It may not be nuclear and it may have a few jagged edges, but it's ours.

I look forward to those family pictures. I look forward to the different configurations we'll have to come up with because we'll have two growing children. I look forward to seeing how our faces change each year; our collective parental crow's feet and the kids' maturing features. I hope we do these pictures to the point of grandchildren and great grandchildren.

What better gift to give ourselves and to the world -- a blended family that defies the social expectation and actually gets along.

Here's to you -- my entire blended family.