Short Hair Don't Care! The freeing of Jennifer

I had to add the above photo of myself with some wonderful short haired women ringing in the New Year.

I've had many hair styles over the years. The last six years I've had less style and more just, hair. I would get it cut and just let it grow after. The more kids I had and the busier life became, the more I let little joys for myself slip away. Like hair styles, cute panties, reading, and eyeliner to name a few. I would dabble here and there but I was occupied with schedules, diapers, potty training, homework, putting pig tails in my daughter's hair, meal planning, drama that arises with a high conflict bio mom to my step children, plus all the other stuff that fills up a day with kids, or even a day without kids. 

Certain relationships over the last few years and some of my own self reflection have reminded me to do for myself. One of my best friends since middle school, Janet has always reminded me how great a new hair do can feel, or even just some nail polish. She always held that wisdom of knowing that time and things for YOU, are better for the kids too. My dear friend Theresa (Slim-Dawg) is the mother of three boys. Her hair is always cut to a style, skin looks fantastic, outfit thought out, she is the fashionista of our crew. She reminds us all that eyeliner and jewelry do NOT need to be saved for special events. Wear them, just to celebrate being a woman! Thank you Theresa, you pulled me out of a mini rut once and it changed me forever.

It's a few little things that can make a huge difference in how you feel. I can be a better mom if I can be just me too. I love motherhood, but it does not define me. I was my own person before motherhood, and I am own person through motherhood.

I had very long hair for a very long time. Most of middle school and high school. My senior year I cut and layered it. It was still well past my shoulders and considered long hair, but it was no longer to my waist. After high school I tried everything out. Different medium length styles, layers, bangs, no bangs, short layered do's, A-line bobs, short and spiked with product in the back while long and A-lined in front. Variety is the key to life!

Most recently I cut it the shortest it's been. It just barely covered my ears, and when I went back to trim it up, I cut it shorter, above the ear. 

There is something so liberating about hacking all that hair off. It felt like I was saying "fuck you" to someone. No one in particular, it just felt good to say it through expression. Over the last year my hair had gotten so long! I adore the way layers softly frame a face, and wispy side bangs add a soft touch, but I felt weighed down. I felt like with all the shit and baggage you carry around in life, my hair was something I could have control over. I plotted the day I would release myself from its confinement. I patiently waited and pinned short hairstyles I liked on Pinterest.

I had always admired women I had met with very short hair. It made them appear so confident.  They didn't need wispy anything to feel soft and feminine. I loved Molly Ringwald, her short red hair. In my early twenties I met a girl named Brandi, short red hair, always appeared confident. In my early thirties I met Theresa (Slim), one of my home skillets, very short hair and it seemed like she sweat confidence from her pores. I instantly admired her. For her confidence, her short hair, and her jewelry wearing for no real reason but to wear it.

Short hair seems brave, maybe because so many women will make the comment of how much they love short hair but could never do it. They could do it though! They just need to feel confident about rockin' the short locks! It makes the short haired girls appear that much more confident, and confidence is beautiful, no matter what length your hair is. Some women say their man doesn't like short hair.  I won't cut my hair for my man, I cut it for me.  I'd prefer that he like my hair, but I'm confident in my relationship enough to know he will still be attracted to me even if he doesn't favor my hair cut. The hair is mine.

I've always remembered my aunt Evie's comment to me when I was a teenager with hair down to my waste. I told her I was thinking of cutting it. She told me I should enjoy my long hair while I'm young, because after a certain age, long hair is just a little silly. 

I totally get what she is saying now. I'm not (nor was she) implying that long hair always looks silly after mid thirties, but I can see and feel how going short gives you a sense of freedom and control. As you get older you start to learn just how much is not in your control, so having control over your hair, your eyeliner, cute panties, and your confidence definitely helps lighten the load of the heavy things in life.

There is the control to grow it back out too, but I love starting the new year with short, confident hair, cute panties, and I plan on wearing eyeliner and jewelry too.

I miss the ponytail option a bit, but I'm enjoying the "fuck you" gesture more.

So thank you Janet, Theresa, and Brandi, and all you other short haired home girls. Thank you for keeping it real and everything else you do! Much love.

Cheers to confidence, short hair, and the middle finger to help ring in the New Year!

Sorry for all the self photos, it's to show the evolution of hair, I promise!

 It started about here, then it just kept growing as I ignored it.
Then it got long.
Then I found a really cool curling iron and started doing more with it.


Then, even though I loved the curls, I felt it was weighing me down. Literally and figuratively. Notice how thrilled I am!Then chop time!  It's what I had been longing for!   I am FREE!

My current cut is just a bit shorter, but I don't have a photo to share, and I won't be taking one for the blog post because I'm a hot-still in pajamas-mess, and I plan to stay that way until its time to get ready for the NYE party.

If you've been debating on going short, and you never have before, I say DO IT!  It's just hair, it will grow back, or you may find you don't want it to.  It's liberating, not to mention it feels better with scarves and in the summer. You will love knowing the feel of long AND short hair, and how each make you feel.

Chop chop!

Happy New Year!

Home Roasted Coffee Beans (and a short history of my love for coffee)

In honor of National Coffee Day (September 29th), I thought I would share a previous post about roasting your own coffee beans. If you love your coffee ground fresh every morning you will absolutly love fresh roasted coffee. From what I have heard (and I explain below), letting them sit in a container for 24 hours after roasting gives you the best flavor. It's hard to be patient after roasting them at home! You will want so badly to ground those glossy babies up and brew a cup!

One of the beauties of coffee is that everyone makes their cup a little different. Black, creamer, sugar, both. I did away with the flavored creamers a few years back. It turns out it was causing migraines. If you take a peek at the ingredients, it is mostly chemicals and little to no cream. I don't do dairy well, so I have used an almond milk or coconut milk creamer that has real ingredients. My favorite is homemade cashew mylk and just a pinch of sugar, I have found that making coffee in the french press is my favorite. I don't even have a drip coffee maker anymore. It somehow adds a richness for me to where I don't want as much sugar or any kind of cream. A lot of times I will just put a half teaspoon of sugar and that's it.

This morning's coffee turned out wonderful, as it should on National Coffee day.

So cheers to you coffee lovers, enjoy your cup and the post!

Since as long as I can remember, I have loved coffee. As a kindergartener, Or perhaps younger, I would visit my maternal grandparents on most Sunday's. They would sit around the kitchen table with coffee and the Sunday paper. I was not about to be left out of anything so I would always ask for a cup of "Hot". I assumed that was what it was called since whenever I was around it I was told, "Be careful Jennifer, that's hot".

My cup consisted of a tiny bit of "hot", some sugar, and a lot milk. It was delicious! There were two things I loved most about it. 

1) I was participating in what seemed like such a grown up event that had a certain feeling of camaraderie to it (plus my grandparents thought it was adorable and played it very serious for my enjoyment). 

2) They let me pick my favorite orange measuring spoon to slurp it down with. Somehow that made it WAY more special. It was always there in the drawer waiting for me.

In later years at age 25 and pregnant with my first child, I started visiting those same grandparents every Sunday. We had "Hot" together, except at that point I would have a full cup with a little sugar and milk. The Sunday paper was out, breakfast rolls were being munched on, and conversations and smiles were shared. There was that familiar camaraderie again that draws you in so close.  I would fill them in on how things were going in my life, my work, my pregnancy, and they shared stories, praise, and offered advice when I needed  it. 

I hold those memories close to my heart. I'm so thankful that life happened how it did and I ended up moving back to the Central Valley from Southern California when I did. That's when I started visiting them so often, becoming so close, and watching them enjoy my first baby. I didn't know then that I would lose them both by the time my son was a year old. Pa and Mother Jeri, they will always be the beginning of my love for coffee. 

So here we are ten years later. I faithfully drink coffee solo (which holds its own camaraderie for me) most mornings.  Drinking a hot cup of your favorite coffee while sitting in the quiet is a meaningful act that starts a day on the right, caffeinated note. I cherish my coffee dates with my girlfriends and I enjoy coffee at the end of a family get together. I make "kid coffee" for my kids sometimes and hope it will be as special of a memory as it was for me.

I'm a bit of a coffee snob now, I can admit that. Not too snobby, I will drink what coffee is made for me, but at home I'm loyal to Pete's Coffee, with The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf being a close second or any other preferably organic, rich, dark roast. I don't go out for coffee much, but when I do I try to avoid Starbucks, although their 'on every corner' convenience wins me over sometimes. I have my own reasons but that is another post.

Today though, a new taste of coffee begins for me. I got my hands on some green (unroasted) coffee beans. Green coffee beans are technically the seeds of a coffee plant. I learned a lot about the seeds and the processing at this website I found via Pinterest. 

http://blog.diynetwork.com/maderemade/how-to/how-to-roast-coffee-beans-at-home/?soc=pinterest

My husband does not drink coffee, but was interested in the roasting process. To be fair, he did most of it while I watched, took photos, and kept an eye on how dark I wanted my beans. Thanks Louie!

So here it goes!

We decided on using our Whirley Pop popcorn maker. It's not an air popper but I've read those work great too. The Whirley Pop basically is a pan with a lid and a handle that you can crank, moving the beans around for even heating. It's awesome. You want to leave the lid open so the smoke can escape and you can watch your seeds turn to beans.

There's the pretty green coffee seeds.

 I used this helpful color chart to determine how dark I wanted my first roast to be. 

You can find it at this link: 

http://www.sweetmarias.com/library/content/using-sight-determine-degree-roast

We started heating them on a medium-low setting. No oil, just the cute little green seeds.

It doesn't take lng for them to start browning. We moved them around quite a bit in the first few minutes, then would allow them to sit still and heat, moving every few minutes.

Listen for the crack. They will start cracking. There is the first crack and the second crack (down the middle of the bean). The second crack is closer to the end. 

I favor a rich taste that usually comes with a darker roast, so for my first batch I went for dark. 

At this point they are getting nice and smokey. Let me tell you, the house does not fill with beautiful aromas of smooth coffee. You will need to turn on your stovetop exhaust fan and open a window. It will smell charred and smokey mixed with a hint of coffee. 

I'd say we roasted them for about 12-13 minutes. They look to be done enough at about 10 minutes, but again, I was going for a dark roast. They will continue to cook before they are cooked so pull them out just before you see the color you want. It is not an exact science (for me anyway), just watch and look for the color you are after.

Next step is to cool the beans and remove the chaff (the papery shreds of skin from the bean). We did this by transferring the beans to a metal collindar.

Whirl them around like you would noodles and you will see the chaff falling out into the sink (those little black flakes).

Once the beans were room temperature I transferred them into an airtight container.

I had read that for optimal taste you should wait 24 hours to grind the beans and brew. Are you kidding me!? All this exciting coffee roasting and I have to wait a whole day? Ugh! I'm not good at waiting, but I wanted the full effect, so I stored my little container of beans in my coffee cabinet. This waiting period allows accumulated CO2 to vent from the beans, which shows that glossy, oily looking finish.

So New Years Day, it's time! I was a little hung over from a fabulous NYE party the night before and coffee was just what I needed. Unfortunately I wasn't feeling too great and was kind of sloppy with my coffee making. I didn't quite make it as strong as I like and then added much more cream than I like. There was no time for a redo! We had to take off to pick up my stepchildren. So my hungover, sloppy, rushed self kind of blew the first home roasted cup of joe. 

Have no fear! I took a nap later that day and I tried again! This time being cautious and particular. I brewed this cup in a French press. This special treat deserves the best, and for me that's a French press. I made it strong and was super conservative on the creamer this time.

What does the fox say? He said that was one fantastic cup of home roasted coffee!   The freshness is unreal. It was rich, defined, and a little hint of smokey, which was great! Mind you, I ground the beans this morning and this redo cup was French pressed tonight, so just imagine the freshness when I grind more in the morning and brew it right away. 

It sounds like a lot of work, I know. It really isn't though. The whole process is under 20 minutes. If you are looking to blossom your taste and love for coffee, this is an easy way to explore. I hope I can still enjoy my Pete's. I love you Pete, but you may now be for lazy days when I don't feel like roasting. We'll see.

If you decide to try it, let me know how it went in the comments below! 

This may be a new hobby for me and I'd love to hear of your experiences! 

Happy roasting!

Love always,

A caffeinated freckled woman.

Just Hanging There

There seems to be a trend in my life lately.  There are all these "things" just hanging there.  None of them can come down until the time is right and they can't all come down at the same time.  You just have to keep on working around them and under them, waiting for them to either fall on you, or for when the opportunity arises to take them down yourself.  It's nerve wracking!

It reminds me of a Christmas tree in a way.  I love a pretty Christmas tree and all, but there is a side to it that kind of hangs there.  You can't keep it forever.  In my mind it has to come down by New Year's day.  There are all those pretty ornaments, just hanging there.  Some will stay up until it is time to come down.  Some of them will fall and break.  There are some you enjoy seeing so much that you won't want to pull them down. The puppy has gotten a hold of a few. I was either able to save them or they were destroyed, but they were all at some point just hanging there, waiting for their fate. At least you can pack that fucker up though and bring in a new year without Christmas decor.

When I have a decision to make, I let it sit for a bit while I think it through.  It's different from hanging though.  I set it aside.  I did, because it was in my control on when and how to deal with it.  I deal with it and it is done.  It's easy to feel overwhelmed with all these hanging issues to be addressed when it is in someone else's hands.  Will it happen in time?  Will it really happen?  Will the decision be best for all involved?  Will they forget and leave the issue hanging in the fog forever? Will it be handled but not perfectly, leaving mistakes to linger above your head?

It is court, it is litigation, it is research, it is future plans, it is the unknown and it is draining.  It is school, and work, and family, and friends.  It is custody and ex's and bullshit and economy. It feels like everything.  They are all not negative either, there is good shit up there hanging around too!

It feels good to finish up with some, piece by piece, but there are always some left hanging. I swear when I was younger there didn't seem to be so many hanging issues.  It felt more like things came up and they were hard and I got through them.  I get through them now, they just seem so much more important, which make them more stressful.  There is more to lose, more involved, more to worry about. 

Looking back, they used to seem like such a big deal, but compared to now they weren't so bad.  I was at a different point in my life.  I guess it is a plus that I can now function with several issues hanging over head, it just affects you differently.  In my early twenties I would probably just drink and smoke more. Now I take more hot baths, write more, and knit more. Sometimes I yell more and sometimes I cry more, but I always take an experience away with me and use it.

Things hang around all year, that is life, but I have heard so many people say that things seem to hit the fan during the holidays.  I'm sure that it just feels that way because we are all already dealing with the pressures that come with holidays.  This year I refuse to feel pressure from anyone.  Not family, not friends, not even my kids!  I won't bend to pressure from society or myself.  Christmas will be simple and enjoyable and that is all I want out of it.  All my things can hang on my mental tree and be dealt with as their times comes.  You lose a few and another is added. C'est la vie!

So acknowledge your hanging "things" but try not to worry about them over the holidays.  Worry about loving and drinking hot chocolate instead.  Your things will fall from their suspended position when they are good and ready, making room for the next. Stress makes us ugly and tired, so let us all find our most productive ways in dealing with it.

Peace be with you, really. 

Holiday Memories

 

Every year around this time I tell myself that next year, I will buy gifts throughout the year and put them away from Christmas.  The idea is that by the time Christmas thrusts upon us, I will be all ready to go.  This is most likely a total pipe dream for me for many reasons.  For one, we are on quite the budget while I am home with the kids, work fluctuates, and we have five children.

I always think it sounds like such a good idea.  Every year we end up having to shop within days of Christmas, and I am not one that enjoys the Christmas crowds, especially while on crutches this year.  Our anniversary is only a few days before Christmas, so it's all meshed together.  If Christmas is on a budget, that usually means anniversary is limited or non existent. One year, we asked Grammy and Pappy to watch the kids while my husband and I used our anniversary day to Christmas shop and enjoy dinner together.  That was a nice night, but I'm avoiding going out as much as I can while I can't walk freely.  Using crutches makes me sweat.  Sweating while not working out and intending to sweat irritates me.  No thanks.

This year I have felt different about it.  We tend to keep Christmas pretty simplistic around here.  For one there is that budget thing I mentioned and for two, I like the kids to enjoy the excitement of gifts, but to see that the focus is on being together and having traditions.  The kids get 2-3 small gifts each and that is that.  We don't have a huge extended family to buy for either, so gift giving is to a minimum. I don't tend to gift to all of my friends, maybe randomly one or two.  Our friendship is worth more than a gift.

Each year since becoming a family of seven, the holidays have seemed to become more and more simplistic.  I love this!  I love it for me, for less stress, and I love it for my kids. We have incorporated some traditions along the way that mean a lot to me.  The first few years of becoming a family it was pretty much gifts in the morning, and then off to whom ever was hosting whatever.  I don't mind that sometimes, but the bigger we became, the more I felt the need to slow it down and have our very own time together and traditions to start and keep.  I want my kids to look back when they are adults and remember things that we did together each year. 

The first Christmas without my dad it was difficult to muster up the Christmas spirit.  I didn't want a tree and I didn't want to decorate or even think about Christmas.  I wanted to get the kids a gift and call it a day.  My mother in law gave me the push I needed.  She gave me a small fake tree and started to set things out.  Christmas was strange that year.  Dad wasn't there, Christmas day was spent at home, at my in-law's and at my sister's with my mom and my brother in-law's family.  Everything had to be rushed to be in three places in one day.  It was even my daughter's first Christmas, but I was sad and lost in grief.

For us we do gifts when we wake up.  Once the oldest two get here from their mom's house, we do a Christmas breakfast.  I set the table extra special and we have homemade biscuits and gravy. Each child has a letter at their place setting and gets to read it  aloud.  In the letter to them I talk about all the accomplishments, growth, and goals they have reached.  They then share with us some of their goals for the coming year.  It's nice for them to each get the spotlight and it's sweet watching their bashful faces beam as they read compliments about themselves aloud. I am admittedly selfish about this part of our day.  I don't want to rush through it because it means something to us, and I don't want to share it because I feel it's important to have something of our own. I have had enough Christmas's that are rushed.  Rushing to get here and rushing to get there, all to appease other people.  We need to appease ourselves first, I don't want my kids growing up to be people pleasers, it's too draining. Not to mention, rushing yourself and five kids is chaotic and quickly drains the holiday spirit.

Maybe they will carry this on to their children in the future, maybe not, but they will remember it as a family Christmas memory. In the time frame of Christmas Eve to the day after Christmas we always spend time with both grandparents and aunts and uncles, also cherished memories for all.  They will remember Christmas Eve at Aunties house with cousin Aidan and Grammy and Pappy and Uncle Jon and Monica, having a big meal, eating Grammy's fudge and cookies, and relaxing around the tree together and playing with their cousin. They will remember years that we spent time at Granny and Grumps on Christmas day, with Auntie Lacy and Grandpa Frank, pulling poppers and playing with all their new stuff. Eating my fudge and pumpkin pie with tons of whipped cream. We also have a holiday get-together with my dad's sisters that live in California, either before Christmas or after. We have a simple tasty meal, gifts for the kids, some mimosas and time together.  It makes it feel like my dad is incorporated into Christmas in some ways, spending the day with his sisters, plus they are fabulous ladies and I love the time I have with them. We have a nice full Christmas season with lots of love and family visits.

Did your family have traditions you enjoyed every year?  Did you stay home?  Did you go to grandma's house?  Did you take off and go somewhere non-traditional.  I have always wanted to sneak off some holiday, the seven of us and go somewhere cool and just spend the day completely different and new, not the norm. When I think of doing that, it always makes me think of the scene from the movie "A Christmas Story", when they have Christmas dinner as a family at a Chinese Restaurant. 

"Fa-Ra Ra Ra Ra, Ra Ra Ra Ra".

My childhood holiday memories?  I have several. 

Leading up to Christmas, my dad would always take my sister and I to a nearby tree lot and help us pick out a tree.  I don't have specific memories of decorating it, but I'm sure we did.  I do have specific memories of decorating a tree at my mom's house.  It was always fun to see the ornaments that you haven't seen for a whole year.  There is something special about only seeing something once a year. I'm somewhat embarrassed to say that up until the last two Christmas's, I didn't let the kids decorate the tree.  I was anal and anxious about it.  I waited until they went to bed and I put out all the décor and decorated the tree.  I know, I know, way to share the cheer right?  Hey, they were really excited to wake up in the morning and see the beautiful tree and all the décor out.  I learned the last few years that I enjoy watching them decorate the tree now.  Yes, I still get a little frantic about fragile pieces or putting heavy ornaments on the bottom and unimportant issues like clumping too many together, but I remind myself to shut up and enjoy the moment and it works.

My dad liked to take us driving around to look at Christmas lights.  I was able to return the favor during his last Christmas with us.  He asked me to drive him around.  It was a quiet drive.  It was sad and special all at once and I think it meant quite a bit to both of us. We usually do a few drives with the kids.  There are some great houses around Granny's house, including Granny's actual house. There is also a spectacular house in our town that has an amazing amount of lights that flutter and blink to the music station that you tune your radio to.  It's a must see every year.

My mom and step dad always had mistletoe hanging in their house and they always stood under it and smooched!  I thought it was pretty cool then and I think it's even cooler now.  It was sweet.  Seeing the affection was healthy.

I remember my dad collecting these tiny little ceramic houses, I think from Gottchalks.  Eventually he would have a small Christmas village that sat on the mantel in December. 

We always had a chain made of construction paper.  You know that ones. You cut one link off every night before bed and when you get to the last one, it's Christmas!

Every Christmas Eve evening we would spend with my mom (and dad) at my maternal grandparents house.  We would have Christmas dinner, or sometimes KFC (LOL), and exchange gifts.  The evening was full of my grandfather's jokes and jabs at my grandmother and she always came back with a quick witted comment.  All the cousins were there and it would be a blast.  I always felt a little bummed when it got late and it was time to head home.  I didn't want the fun to end. The best part about going home though, was that dad always let my sister and I open up one gift from him that had been under the tree.  He always seemed as excited as we were.  One gift right before bed to build up the anticipation for tomorrow. 

In the morning we would open the gifts from my dad and usually go to one of our aunt's homes, or my paternal grandparents house, again having fun with the cousins and being so excited to see grandma and grandpa.  They lived far enough to where we didn't see them a ton and it made it super exciting to visit with them.  My grandfather was always great about showing his enthusiasm when it came to us grand kids.  He would crouch down with arms open wide, cheeks pink, and the biggest smile I'd ever seen, exclaiming "kiddo!".  Those had to have been my favorite hugs as a child. My grandmother always had the most elegant, loving touch. She made me feel delicate and pretty, like a flower, her soothing voice alone made me feel safe and warm. The "Jane Adams Potatoes" were a special treat, a family recipe. Creamy comfort food.  I always wondered why they were called that.  I figured Jane Adams must have been a chef, or someone of importance, or maybe just a description of food that I didn't comprehend.  I learned only a few  years ago that my grandmother got the recipe decades ago from a lady who lived down the street, her name was Jane Adams. So, she called them Jane Adams Potatoes.  Perfectly hilarious.

It was easy as a kid.  You just get really excited, put a pretty dress on and go wherever your parents took you.  Now you have your family,  your spouse's family, plus your own nuclear family and sometimes one or both of those families are split and do not celebrate together.  It's just too much to be expected to be everywhere, but we do what we can.

I tried to branch out last year and do a gingerbread house kit.  Not sure I'll do that again.  It was fun and all, I can't remember if everyone wanted to just eat it, or if no one wanted to eat it and I had this food house sitting around.  We don't even visit Santa every year.  I'm going for simple, so I don't want to feel obligated to cram too many activities into one month, and the kids don't mind a bit. They have no expectations besides being together, opening a gift, seeing family, and biscuits and gravy. I want to go this year because my youngest has never been. When I was a part of a local mom's group, we attended some activities like caroling, cookie decorating, Christmas crafts.  These were great fun, but as they get older we are slowing down.  I'm still trying to figure out every year how to buy the kids' gifts without them around since we end up having to wait until they are already on Christmas break. I don't even have the urge to bake this year.  I plan to make fudge, as my mother in law won't let me in if I don't bring it (just kidding Granny) and my stepson has already requested peanut butter fudge, so I'd love to make that happen.

I still feel like it was just summer a few weeks ago.  Football practice, shorts, sweat, sunscreen, and popsicles.  Now it's almost time to roast chestnuts on an open fire!?  It creeps up faster every year.

So have a wonderfully busy season or a laid back slow season, which ever you prefer and enjoy it while it's here.  Soon it will be spring and everyone will be coloring eggs.  Enjoy your traditions and enjoy your visits. Don't drink and drive and don't be a hater.  Haters suck all year long, but especially during the holidays ;-)

I am one of those people that say "Happy Holidays".  I am not against "Merry Christmas", but the way I see it, November and December are months that are full of holidays of all kinds.  It doesn't have to be exclusively dedicated to religion.  It's a time for remembering thanks and it's a time to give and be grateful for everyone, as we are all the same in that way and we all can feel joy from it.

Happy Holidays, from mine to yours.

Since when did "STEPMOM" become a dirty word?

I have had this conversation with a dear friend, (also a stepmom) many times. Missy, my stepmom road dog. Tonight I read a blog that a friend posted shared on Facebook.  (Thank you Jennifer!) I do not have a close relationship with her, but from what I have seen of her, she is a strong woman who has been through some difficult times. It seems to me that she has taken these hard times and molded them into appreciation for the good times. She soaks in beautiful moments whole heartedly. She shares her appreciation openly, but is honest about life sometimes being hard, or sad! She has seen both sides of life, like most of us and chooses to be real about it, like the blog post below talks about. To me that speaks volumes of a person, to feel AND say what is real rather than what you know people are comfortable hearing. There is a bundle of complexity in that department when it comes to stepparenting.

http://www.scarymommy.com/the-secret-that-parents-are-too-afraid-to-say/ It technically has nothing to do with stepparenting, but to me it had everything to do with stepparenting.

Stepparenting is hard. I find it to be a little harder than biological parenting. Not that parenting isn't hard, I have 3 children of my own and it is not a cake walk, it's a roller coaster. One that can make you scared, queezy, exhilarated, and full of joy all at the same time. There are different dynamics to stepparenting, even in comparing different stepfamilies. There are different rights and more people involved in the parenting process. There are times you feel like a special part to it all, and there are times that you feel like you have put so much effort, love, tears, and only the universe knows what else into it and there you stand, alone with no say in certain things. I have to say, my husband is absolutely amazing at including me, we are a team when it comes to all of our kids, his, mine, and ours, but there are certain things I cannot decide or push, and it can be incredibly frustrating or incredibly sad. Either way, it is what it is. The life of a stepparent. 

We have several dynamics in our home. My husband is a stepfather to my son, although he is never refered to as such due to the fact that he has been in his life since the age of two, and the biological father has no presence in his life. My husband is the only "dad" my son knows. My son knows about his biological dad and has a relationship with his other sons, by way of myself and their mother, but he calls my husband "dad" and that is what he has been to him. Technically, yes, he is his stepdad and it is OK to say so, we just usually don't. Back when my son called him Louie, he was too young to remember. He remembers him becoming "dad". The kids don't refer to each other as stepbrother or stepsister either, only because they are so close, growing up together starting at ages 2, 4, and 5. If they did though, it wouldn't be taking anything away from the love they have for each other. It would simply be a technical term. 

Our second dynamic is my husband's two children. I am their stepmom. I came along when they were 4 and 5 years old and they have their mom in their life on a consistent basis. They live in her home and we see them regularly, following a typical visitation order. I am a mother figure in their life and I have been for over 8 years. I have what I feel is a close relationship to both of them. If they wanted to call me  mom, I would be fine with that. The fact that they call me "Jen", I am fine with that too. I AM the stepmom. I married their father and I am the mom of our household. They ARE my stepchildren. I love them like my own, I sacrifice for them like my own, and I treat them like my own. They are my children, but when did it become icky to say the word "stepson" or "stepdaughter"? I will,tell you! It became icky when people started making up pathetic terms like "bonus kids". Hopefully you do feel that your step children are a bonus to your life, but why make a sugary word for them that implies the real term is mean or degrading? 

I struggled with this the first few years we were married. When we would introduce ourselves to people, my husband always said "This is my son, Logan", about my son. That made me think I might sound like an ass If I said "This is Kristian, my stepson", about his son. I found though, that if I said they were mine, my step kids might feel uncomfortable, especially when they have mom reminding them regularly that I am not their mom, I only married their dad.  What if they didn't want me to say I was their mom? Then there were the times that I left it vague to avoid it all together and people would ruin it by adding comments that led to me feeling compelled or obligated to explain. Things like "Logan sure looks just like his dad" or "Wow, you sure look great after having 3 kids" (when I had only had one). Then there are the questions, we still get to this day, "So wait, what school do they go to?". They live in a town an hour from us so our kids do not currently go to school together. Then the most current question for my stepson, "So, what level of Patterson Ravens Football do you play for?". Well he doesn't, he plays for the team in Escalon where he lives. 

I remember the one and only time I used the term "bonus kids". It was some sort of status update or hashtag. I used it, and I will blame it on social pressure, lol. I used it and it felt dirty and wrong. It felt gross and fake and I never did it again. What people don't get is that by making up these sugary sweet terms and cheese-ball labels for different family dynamics, they simply draw more attention to it as if it's not the norm, as if it's so delicate and sensitive that we can't call it what it is, we need a special name? I feel that these names separate the family more. By saying I am their stepmom, I'm simply and clearly explaining our relationship. By calling them my bonus kids I am acting as if I need to give our relationship a special name to make it sound special. Being there stepmom IS special! 

Yes, there is no need to explain to EVERYONE we talk to what our family dynamics are. There are times where we simply say we have 5 kids. Sometimes I introduce my step kids as my kids, because they are my kids, and my husbands kids, and their mother's kids. It just depends. In the beginning though, it was difficult. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say, and what was appropriate or what might not make sense. All this "bonus" crap put a lot of pressure on the table, plus my husbands step parenthood being so different than my own. As we all grew as a family things became more comfortable. We had two children together, making us a family of five. Now we usually just say that we are "His, Mine, and Ours" or that we have "five all together".  I'm at a wonderful level of comfort now in my stepparenthood and I no longer care to explain unless someone is asking, I never feel obligated anymore. I know that my step kids respect me as the mom of our household and that referring to them as my step kids does not offend them, as they call me their stepmom. I also feel that it is perfectly acceptable for them to correct a stranger if they refer to me as their mom and the kids want to correct them or inform them that I am their stepmom. I know that when I refer to them as my kids, they look honored, as I feel when they refer to me as their mom. The only expectation we have of each other is love and respect, and whether they know it or not, I would go to great lengths to protect them.

Another pet peeve the link above reminded me of are the step parents who go way overboard with making sure everyone knows they love their stepchild as their own. I've always felt that if you feel the need to say something of that nature repeatedly, you are most likely trying to either

A. Convince yourself

Or

B. Convince everyone else

Just relax, man. Just enjoy your stepparenthood for whatever it may be. Everyone else can go climb a tree! It's hard to share children. I have not had to share my biological children, so I can't say I know exactly what it feels like, but I share my step kids, and it is hard. When they are here, the family feels complete. It's not that we don't operate as a whole family in their absence, but when they are here there is an extra aura of completion to the circle of our family. We become the 7 of us, and that is different than the 5 of us. They are here and then they are not here. There are times they are not here for 2 whole weeks! 

Stepparenting is tricky. It can be trying and it can be genuinely rewarding, but let it be what it is. Be a stepparent, be the other mom or dad, be the best you can be, but don't pour sugar all over it. How can you see the beauty in something when it's smothered in gooey BS? Let it breathe and be real. I guarantee you it will blossom. It's a big responsibility to be a mother or father figure in a child's life who is not your own. Take pride in it and grow it into something beautiful. It never takes the place of the other parent, even if the other parent is not around. My son only knows my husband as dad, but it doesn't make him his biological father, it makes him his dad, a wonderful loving father figure in his life. I try to be a wonderful mother figure in my step children's lives. I'm here to listen, I'm here to teach. I'm here to give hugs and I'm here to tell them when something is not OK. I am another mom. 

In my experience as a stepparent, and even as a stepdaughter, (I had a great stepparent that proved to be a great example for me) I have learned to only focus on your relationship with the kids and your family as a whole. What is best for them and what their needs are. When you go worrying about everyone else and what they may think or not think, what to introduce yourself as, holding onto a label just to make others think or feel a certain way, or even worrying about a high conflict biological parent, it just takes away from your relationship with the kids and your family. Let it all go, the special names, the itch to control a situation that shouldn't be controlled, and the stress that you can easily cause yourself. Just love them, plain and simple, whether they are new to your life, or you've been raising them for years. Love them, make sure they know they are loved and there is trust among them. It's hard enough having a split home, especially when the parents have conflict. Be the rock that they need, be a good stepparent, not a silly, sugary name.