La Belle Mere

So I've been poking around the interweb as I threatened. I am THRILLED to have found some very cool blogs by stepmoms who want that glass of wine at the end of the day (or by lunch) as much as I do!
I could not have possibly said it better than Stepmother's Milk with this particular post. Which reminds me, why haven't any of my friends thrown me a belle mere shower?

Here's the post:

"Unlike the traditional baby shower, where mama-to-be receives gifts for the survival of the blessed babe, the stepmom shower honors the adult woman thrust into a scary and unknown world and like the infant, is similarly naïve and in need of care. We may have more years on the planet, but when it comes to stepmothering, many of us were born yesterday.

It’s time to start a new tradition.

I’ve been to countless baby showers and it seems that parenting inexperience is honored above more impressive qualities like daring or patience (Isn’t she adorable. She doesn’t even know how the Diaper Genie works. Dear, let me help you). If this is true, then who more deserves a kick-ass party with a bounty of presents, expert instruction and hard liquor than the stepmom, who gets no gestation period at all? No preparation. No handbook. If you’re like me, you just woke up one morning with half-grown kids sleeping down the hall.

It’s time to start a new tradition. There’s no reason why stepmoms shouldn’t be entitled to the same elevation and indulgence, if only for a long afternoon.

But, I’m hung up on one thing: the name. “Stepmom Shower” doesn’t sound all that fun. It’s got a dead ring to it, do you agree? Well, I don’t know about you, but if a party isn’t fun, then why did you waste your time cleaning the house and buying expensive cheese? So, I’m proposing a name change. A title that reflects the spirit and sentiment of the celebration.

Introducing, La Belle-Mere Party!

What the hell is that? She had me up until this point, but now she’s throwing around a foreign language. I’m confused.

Is this what you are thinking? Well, let me explain. First, I blame my mother and so should you. She is convinced (and works very hard to sway others) that the French are far more sophisticated and appealing than Americans. I do agree with her that the French have much prettier words, so there’s that.

Second, and more importantly, La Belle-Mere is actually French street slang for stepmother, so I didn’t just make it up to sound fancy. And translated, it means the mother even more, all the more or more than ever.

Now, I’m no language expert, so the following interpretation is my own (I’m sure my college French professor would shake her head “tsk, tsk” and fail me again). But, when I think of myself as a “mother all the more,” I’m struck with a sense of relief and significance. I am not Mom, “the original” and I will never replace her, but instead of imagining myself as the awkward, shadow figure in the background, I’m standing right beside her with my head held high. The mother more than ever.

I think it’s important that we (myself included) start thinking of ourselves as more, not less. We all bring something to the blended family table. We belong. We have a place. It may take me a while (like years) to truly feel this way, but I’m going to keep repeating it under my breath until I do.

With that, a raise my glass to you, my step-ladies! Here’s to your friendship, good humor and grit. Let the 2008 La Belle-Mere Tour begin! Start clearing your calendars for a trip to Austin. Details to follow."

Oh, just ignore me. Right, you already did that.

Yeah, my blog is about the mostly funny side of starting a new life, in a new country, with a new language, and a new family. I also like to talk about food. This morning however I must focus on one particular topic that is ever-present: my new quasi stepmother status.

To be blunt, it's quite shocking even still to wake up some days and realize that I have responsibilities involving children. Two of them. Under the age of 8. I confess to daydreams of an apartment that had been listed as 'great for one person or a couple without children'. I confess also to longing for a sofa that is free of cookie crumbs, a toilet seat that is always down when I get to it, and just. plain. silence.

Now, there is no way that I'd rather be anyplace else - in general. But at times, yes, I would like to be teleported away. I'm sure The Pirate feels the same way as he's got a lot on his plate as well. But, I do protest that he's had a few years to practice getting used to this. Pas moi. I've been feeling ...well...it's hard to say really as I've been feeling many things, but mostly frustrated, so I turned to the all knowing interweb to see if I could find anything interesting to read about being a stepmom who hasn't had any previous experience with children. I did find LOTS of information. There seem to be a few general types of sites offering information about stepmother-hood. I find them to be in one of the following creepy categories:

a. Way too positive and chirpy and hopeful for me to even begin to relate to. I think these people are not really stepmoms, but rather friends of stepmoms giving the kind of advice only non stepmoms can give, ala 'oooohhhh, it's not so bad..be happy and set a great example!. Okay lady. Spend an afternoon trying to convince a five year old that you don't have the snacks he wants in the house - in French - which you don't speak very well, while he cries on the floor for his mother, and then tell me that again.

b. Just a plain bitch session, and mostly about the mother of the child or children. I just can't get into that. My stress points are my own and they have nothing to do with the mother of my stepkids. Thankfully the relationship with her is good. I really don't believe bitching about the mother makes anything easier for anyone, and really believe it's a harmful thing to do to the children and the ex husband.

The one thing I haven't found yet - and I'm hopeful - is information about how to deal with the normal stresses of being a new stepmom while you are also learning the kids language. Because for me, it comes down to being ignored and I detest that.

In general, it's easier for a lot of people to keep limited conversation with me, or to not try to talk with me. I understand this: I can only get so far in conversation in French, and if you can only get so far in English, well, there you have it. Entirely understandable. The same goes for the kids. Pile on top of that the fact that I'm still a relatively new arrival on the scene that is their everyday life, the fact that I'm not their mom, and the fact that they are human and just simply don't want another adult around who has the authority to tell them what to do, and well....yeah...the amount of ignoring that happens is large. I mean really, they literally just....watch me talk, and then walk away. Or don't even turn their heads when I speak, or act as if The Pirate is the only one in the room.

It's easier for them. I get it. But you know what? It really sucks.
What I realized just recently in an 'aha' moment that left me pretty bummed for the remainder of the afternoon is this: No matter what I do, no matter how fluent in French I become, no matter how much time, energy, and emotion I put into this situation, I will never reap the benefits of being the person these kids turn to for much of anything except a snack. No. It will always be a parent. I will never be the first person they think of when they panic, I won't be an automatic consideration for parent teacher day or anything like that. I'll always be just one step outside.
It's normal. It's par for the course. They have parents. I have no desire to replace or better any parent. It's strictly a matter of realizing, wow, I'm doing all the things parents do, the shopping, the driving to sports, the feeding, the coddling, the book reading, I'll do it all, because any other way just isn't natural to me, I'm not going to hold back...but in spite of these clearly parental actions, I'll always be, as they say in baseball, juuuuuust a bit outside.

I must confess, it's ...well...it's a bummer. Like I said, it won't change what I do, but it sure changes how I feel. I have moments of spitefulness: 'I'm just a babysitter, and for what?'.
So, the question to ask is, what am I going to do about it? Well, I'm enrolling in French school for non French speakers for one thing. Learning on my own simply isn't cutting it. I look forward to being able to understand more and talk back more, both in good situations and bad. That should help tremendously, but it will take time. I'm going to read more from other stepmoms so I don't feel so isolated and/or crazy in this situation. I'm going to ask my cousins who have raised amazing boys what I should expect, because I realize that a lot of behavior is simply 'kids' and not necessarily 'step kids', but how would I know the difference?
Lastly, The Pirate. The coolest guy I know. What to do with him when it comes to all this? To be honest I'm not sure. I think two kids, and having to help me with many things since I'm French deficient, well it's already a lot. That being said, there may be some things we can go over, things that may need to be adjusted now that he has a slightly different type of family. For me it's scary ground to walk on. I mean, if I know nothing, who am I to tell him how things should go?

I'm just going to put on some Bob Marley now, 'Please, don't you rock ....my boat...." Hahahaa...

Dear France, See? Not all Americans make fun of berets. Love, moi.

I just loved this little gem from Bill Maher's show. Speaks for itself, so enjoy!

What doesn't kill me.....wait, learning French AND how to be a stepmom at the same time just might.

A new country, a new family. It's nice, this new way of life. A good lesson: to not just think for me, but to have to consider those immediately around me at all times. I'm totally up for it. Many times, I feel a lot of love and stuff that I've never felt in quite this way, not having kids of my own. Then again, many times I feel a level of anxiety that I'm not sure is normal or healthy.
Being in a step mom position brings all sorts of new emotions. It's a new language, really.

So the languages I'm learning as an ex-patriot are:
1 .French
2. Children

It's kind of a catch-22, chicken-egg situation isn't it? Because number two would certainly be easier if it were a. in English, or b. in a familiar place. It's not, and I want it that way, I want the new place and the new language(s), but I will say that becoming a step mom brings challenges, and becoming a step mom in a new country and new language? ...yeah. It's one of those times when I believe the universe took a look at me and said, 'oh yeah? You want a challenge? Ha! HERE ya go.'


Intensive life training situation numer 9734:

You are in a new place, you are learning (insert language here).
You will be placed in a new domestic position requiring the following skills:
Patience, the ability to withstand being ignored often, the ability to apply ointment and bandaids in an expert fashion, and oh yes, the ability to speak (insert same language as above) in times of crises involving said bandaids.
You must develop an ability to control a room full of children under the age of seven with whatever (language) you have acquired.
You must willingly listen to those who refuse to comprehend that you do not yet speak fluent (language) while they tell you stories of cats and trees each time you pass them in the apartment complex. (at least that's what you think they're saying).


Ah, learning. There's nothing like saying something in a very stern voice to a child, in broken French, and having them reply with a look that says, 'What the HELL are you trying to say? Since I can't understand you, you silly woman, I will simply shrug my shoulders and walk away. Watch.'

Thankfully, most adults here in Guadeloupe make more of an effort. In fact, people are generally really nice and accomodating, even if we make conversation in broken sentences with a lot of mime.

Earning the respect of children when you are not the parent AND you don't speak the language remains one of my biggest challenges in my new life. In fact, I'm not even sure fluent French will help....which brings me to the question of the day:
Should I study French today or should I study step parenting?

Birth of a sterotype

Once you begin life Someplace Else, you begin to adjust. Someplace Else could be five miles away or five thousand. It matters not. In the same city I have adjusted to new neighborhoods, noticed the many little differences in many little things, such as the quality and quantity of coffee houses with free wi-fi, the presence of a natural food store, the cleanliness of the bus lines that stop there, the murals or graffiti, a difference in the cost of car insurance.

Now that I've been living Someplace Else for about half a year, it was on a recent trip with my new family to Disney World in Orlando that I felt a touch of what Orlando must look like people who have never been there before, people who (gasp) may have never seen a supersized anything.

Suddenly the average size of a person was quite noticeably different. We're not talking height, or basic body type per se, but rather that on average, people in and around the Disney Parks were in what seemed to me, a rather unhealthy state of obesity. Orlando itself, the land of never ending competition between chain restaurants and strip malls and outlet centers forced me into a big 'aha'.

I realized that had I been from say, a small town outside the States, and travelled for my first time to the States, to see Orlando in all it's glory, this would be my impression of America and her people. Some of the words I would use to describe the area surrounding Disney's parks are: big, repetetive, too much, loud, turkey leg fast food, and really white sneakers.

Et, voila, a stereotype is born. Got it.