I think I'm being foolish and looking for something to be hurt about. Overdramatic; that's me! I love my family very much and I know I'm an integral part.
Love,
Andy
Showing posts with label step-father. Show all posts
Showing posts with label step-father. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Oh, to be part of the family…..
Family is very, very important in my life and a major aspect in my dreams. I've mentioned how it was the idea of having a family of my own got me through some very rough times in my childhood. Now, with my life greatly improved, I'm a part of the family that I'd always dreamed; or so I think. Before my "queen" and I started dating, I had very little experience with children. I've babysat more than a few times, but I always got to go home when the job was finished and the idea of a 24-hour babysitting job, or to be a parent/ step-parent, is a lot of responsibility, uncertainty, and something that I take very seriously. I consider being a member of this family to be THE greatest honor of my life and I work very hard for my family. There isn't anything that I wouldn't do. In every spare moment, I'm cleaning house, watching my "princess," driving my lovely ladies where they need to go, helping with homework, refilling the humidifier,or the daily breakfast and snack preparations. My "queen's" ex-husband already has a family of his own including a girlfriend who has a son. My "princess" has a group of wonderful people who love her very much, but for some reason, I feel like I'm the odd one out.
It's becoming clear that my little, beautiful "princess" might not see me as a part of her family. In a past few months, and twice in the last two days, she's talked about her family and would list them by name. There was, of course, mommy, daddy, and then daddy's girlfriend, her son, but not me. I understand her being weary of somebody replacing her father, but I've told her a number of times that nobody would ever replace her dad and that I went through this exact thing when I was a kid and were always going to be good friends, first and foremost. If the fear of replacing parents is the reason that I'm out, then why is daddy's girlfriend in the mix?
It was already a challenge in learning the nuances of being a parent/ step-parent and the doubt that I have in my abilities is only exacerbated by the notion that the youngster doesn't see me as such.
My girlfriend has custody so raising her is pretty much our show. Raising a child, especially one so gifted, is an exceptional challenge and will continue to be so probably through graduate school. I'm completely prepared to be "second fiddle" for the rest of this young woman's life and when she succeeds, the credit will rightfully go to her mother and father. I don't need to be player of the game when I think I'm one of the hardest workers out there, but I struggle when I don't feel recognized as even being on the field, especially when I don't think I'm good enough to be on it to begin with. Seven year olds are free to think however they want, love who they want, and decide which people she considers family. I don't want this to sound like I'm mad or even hurt. I'm a bit shocked and confused when I think about it and the thoughts like, "see, you aren't doing enough for your family!" starts creeping into my head.
One final note: I kind of quit smoking a long time ago by reducing to 3 to 6 smokes a day. On some days, it might be a half a drag for the whole day and other, more stressful days, might be the full six. So, because I'm a family man now, I decided it was time to quit and I went on the gum. It turns out that one of the chemicals in the gum was burning a hole in my gum that is now a canker sore that won't go away. With the gum thrown away, I wanted to go back to smoking, but I won't let myself because I'm a member of a family and good family folks don't participate in risky behavior. I just can't conceive of what else I have to do to be accepted by everyone. And that makes me want a cigarette! Argh…….
Bottom line is that I'll be okay. I just have to keep my head on straight and do the work that needs done. Because they're worth it!!!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Father of Mine.....
When I was five years old, I was awakened one night to hear my mother crying hysterically. After the initial shock of what had woke me, I started paying attention to the words my mother was screaming. “Please don’t leave us! Please don’t leave us! Don’t do this, please!” I didn’t know what it was about but the next day I could tell that things were different. Around 4:30 the next afternoon, I grabbed my baby blanket (yes, I still carried it everywhere at 5 years of age), and took my usual position on the bench in the kitchen where my mother was preparing dinner and we would wait together for my father to come home. Dinner came and went and he never showed up. The next afternoon, I waited in the usual place with the same result. This continued for weeks and weeks. Mom and I would wait and he would never come home until one day, the bench was gone. It turns out the two things he wanted in the divorce was the telephone and that bench, but I doubt he would have wanted it if he knew its real significance.
My mother was the daughter of an impossible, hateful woman that made it her goal in life to make her husband and daughters more miserable than she was, which was quite a task since she was quite possibly the most miserable person on the face of this large planet. Two things to mention about my mother and my two aunts; they grew up dirt poor and that bombardment of bitterness and hatred that they endured as children would haunt them every day for the rest of their lives. When my father left, my mother had accumulated 1 semester of college credit, no savings, no income, and no self confidence to speak of. Because of these circumstances and her desire for me to have the family that she never did, we moved around a lot. My mother remarried three more times after my father and each of them offered me a different hard lesson of how NOT to be a man. There was the “drunken Irishman,” who coincidently didn’t drink, wasn’t Irish, but was an abusive son of a bitch. There was the “difficult one,” who didn’t need to hit because he was 6 foot 4, three hundred some pounds who ruled over a woman and a child that were victims of physical abuse. After the “difficult one” was the “crazy one,” but we’re not going to talk about that one because he might be internet savvy enough to find my blog so let’s not burn our bridges just yet!
In all of these different living experiences and during the times when my mother and I lived alone, all I could think of was the family that I was going to have someday. On the nights that “drunken Irishman” was at his worst, I would hide under my bed, pray for deliverance, and ease myself to sleep with the thoughts of how I was going to be as a father. As my mother would cry at night trying to figure out where the rent was going to come from, I would think about how my family would never have to endure this pain. As my mother and I were trying to make the decision of whether to move to Arkansas with “the difficult one” or stay at home with our social network and “watch our spending” I would think about how my family would never be in this position. And when I found “the crazy one” passed out on the floor in a drug induced coma…… well, that just goes without saying. As mistake after mistake began accumulating in my young adult life, the thing that was so hard was coming to grips with the notion that maybe a family just wasn’t for me. I was getting to nearly 500 pounds and my unsuccessful battles with emotional disorders led me to believe that the world would be better off if I didn’t reproduce and then that made the “bottom of the barrel,” so to speak, even harder to take.
Today, I am much lighter, much healthier, and in the situation of my dreams. “My queen” is the love of my life and she has a daughter, “my princess” that is an absolute joy. The problem is that she is seven and “my queen” and I have been dating for seven months now so you do the math. Because of previous bad influences of both of our lives, I don’t think I’ll ever have the official title of step-father, but even now I know I’m part of the team and that’s a monumental responsibility. I don’t know anything about kids. Pathetic as it may be, but I only learned how to properly take care of MYSELF a year ago and here I am, an active participant in the task of molding this young woman’s life and all I can think about is all of these bad examples of how not to behave and that I have no examples of how to act. I love being a part of a family, but I do have to admit that the idea of this being a full-time job adds a lot of pressure and some days I just don’t feel strong enough to handle it.
I’m sure that all fathers go through that, but I don’t know if I qualify because I’m not a father. She already has one of those. So, where do I fit in? What is my responsibility? In my life, I’ve yet to see a man that was an adequate husband, boyfriend, or father. So, the question is:
HOW CAN I BE A MAN THAT I DON’T REALLY KNOW EXISTS?
How many bad apples do you see in a batch before you just assume that maybe they’re all bad apples and look for something else? One lesson that I’ve learned the hard way is to have realistic expectations for yourself. With that said, defining the bottom parameter just isn’t good enough. As history looks back on this situation, the credit or blame for the future of “my princess” will be given to her mother and her father and I will surely be overlooked, but that doesn’t make me any less responsible. I think what worries me is that I share the responsibility without the natural, instinctive motivation to help my offspring thrive and survive. Granted, there are parents all over the world that have that instinct and end up teaching by bad example.
One final aspect is that my girlfriend, “my queen” is a breast cancer survivor. Though that gives her an incredible perspective on life and the world we live in and an optimism that is restoring my faith and love in humanity, as somebody put It recently, “she has had chemotherapy and is unsure that she can ever again become pregnant.” It’s clear to me, without a doubt, that having not only a partner, but this partner is the best way to compliment my life. My girlfriend and my lover is also my best friend and closest companion. She and “my princess” are the two special keys to doors I never thought would be opened and I had started to pile storage and refuse in front of them. What I am afraid of is that my never having a child of my own will have an adverse affect on the upbringing of this bright little light in my life. I just want to be the best figure that I can be in this young woman’s life no matter what it takes.
On a positive note, if I’m worried this much about it, I must be doing a pretty good job!!!
“Now I’m a grown man, with a child of my own….. I swear I’m not gonna let him know, all the pain I have known….” Everclear
My mother was the daughter of an impossible, hateful woman that made it her goal in life to make her husband and daughters more miserable than she was, which was quite a task since she was quite possibly the most miserable person on the face of this large planet. Two things to mention about my mother and my two aunts; they grew up dirt poor and that bombardment of bitterness and hatred that they endured as children would haunt them every day for the rest of their lives. When my father left, my mother had accumulated 1 semester of college credit, no savings, no income, and no self confidence to speak of. Because of these circumstances and her desire for me to have the family that she never did, we moved around a lot. My mother remarried three more times after my father and each of them offered me a different hard lesson of how NOT to be a man. There was the “drunken Irishman,” who coincidently didn’t drink, wasn’t Irish, but was an abusive son of a bitch. There was the “difficult one,” who didn’t need to hit because he was 6 foot 4, three hundred some pounds who ruled over a woman and a child that were victims of physical abuse. After the “difficult one” was the “crazy one,” but we’re not going to talk about that one because he might be internet savvy enough to find my blog so let’s not burn our bridges just yet!
In all of these different living experiences and during the times when my mother and I lived alone, all I could think of was the family that I was going to have someday. On the nights that “drunken Irishman” was at his worst, I would hide under my bed, pray for deliverance, and ease myself to sleep with the thoughts of how I was going to be as a father. As my mother would cry at night trying to figure out where the rent was going to come from, I would think about how my family would never have to endure this pain. As my mother and I were trying to make the decision of whether to move to Arkansas with “the difficult one” or stay at home with our social network and “watch our spending” I would think about how my family would never be in this position. And when I found “the crazy one” passed out on the floor in a drug induced coma…… well, that just goes without saying. As mistake after mistake began accumulating in my young adult life, the thing that was so hard was coming to grips with the notion that maybe a family just wasn’t for me. I was getting to nearly 500 pounds and my unsuccessful battles with emotional disorders led me to believe that the world would be better off if I didn’t reproduce and then that made the “bottom of the barrel,” so to speak, even harder to take.
Today, I am much lighter, much healthier, and in the situation of my dreams. “My queen” is the love of my life and she has a daughter, “my princess” that is an absolute joy. The problem is that she is seven and “my queen” and I have been dating for seven months now so you do the math. Because of previous bad influences of both of our lives, I don’t think I’ll ever have the official title of step-father, but even now I know I’m part of the team and that’s a monumental responsibility. I don’t know anything about kids. Pathetic as it may be, but I only learned how to properly take care of MYSELF a year ago and here I am, an active participant in the task of molding this young woman’s life and all I can think about is all of these bad examples of how not to behave and that I have no examples of how to act. I love being a part of a family, but I do have to admit that the idea of this being a full-time job adds a lot of pressure and some days I just don’t feel strong enough to handle it.
I’m sure that all fathers go through that, but I don’t know if I qualify because I’m not a father. She already has one of those. So, where do I fit in? What is my responsibility? In my life, I’ve yet to see a man that was an adequate husband, boyfriend, or father. So, the question is:
HOW CAN I BE A MAN THAT I DON’T REALLY KNOW EXISTS?
How many bad apples do you see in a batch before you just assume that maybe they’re all bad apples and look for something else? One lesson that I’ve learned the hard way is to have realistic expectations for yourself. With that said, defining the bottom parameter just isn’t good enough. As history looks back on this situation, the credit or blame for the future of “my princess” will be given to her mother and her father and I will surely be overlooked, but that doesn’t make me any less responsible. I think what worries me is that I share the responsibility without the natural, instinctive motivation to help my offspring thrive and survive. Granted, there are parents all over the world that have that instinct and end up teaching by bad example.
One final aspect is that my girlfriend, “my queen” is a breast cancer survivor. Though that gives her an incredible perspective on life and the world we live in and an optimism that is restoring my faith and love in humanity, as somebody put It recently, “she has had chemotherapy and is unsure that she can ever again become pregnant.” It’s clear to me, without a doubt, that having not only a partner, but this partner is the best way to compliment my life. My girlfriend and my lover is also my best friend and closest companion. She and “my princess” are the two special keys to doors I never thought would be opened and I had started to pile storage and refuse in front of them. What I am afraid of is that my never having a child of my own will have an adverse affect on the upbringing of this bright little light in my life. I just want to be the best figure that I can be in this young woman’s life no matter what it takes.
On a positive note, if I’m worried this much about it, I must be doing a pretty good job!!!
“Now I’m a grown man, with a child of my own….. I swear I’m not gonna let him know, all the pain I have known….” Everclear
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