On Dating A Man With Children

This isn’t anyone’s dream. No one grows up wanting step children and baggage. I told myself firmly that I was not interested in a man with 2 children from 2 different mothers. I was so sure that I would not fall in love with him. Why would I get myself involved in such an unsavory situation?

But I did. I fell in love and told myself that we would find a way to make it work. I had always wanted children. I had always wanted to adopt children. I was so certain that I could be selfless and loving and play happy families. I imagined I would be an exemplary step mother who embraced the exes so that the children would see us all getting along. I thought I would excel at nurturing and taking care of small people; of helping them to be unscathed by any of us adults. I imagined a home and a family that was mine even though the children weren’t. Surely I could do this and do it perfectly?

All I have discovered in the last six months is that I am not anything other than selfish and immature. I am shallow. I am not cut out for motherhood. The fact that they aren’t my children probably doesn’t negate this fact.

I had no idea that I could resent an innocent 2 year old because she was the bone of contention between us and her mother for months. The more difficult the mother made my life, the more strain she put on our relationship and the more I was asked to sacrifice for someone I had never met – who didn’t have the decency to greet me – the more I wished that this child didn’t exist. Who wishes for a beautiful, little girl not to exist? What kind of a monster does this make me?

I was not allowed around the little girl for a long time and therefore we did not bond like I did with the other child. Even now I feel a huge disconnect from her. She is the reason so much went so wrong for us early on. I nearly left because of her mother and the lack of boundaries between my boyfriend and her. Everything that nearly ended our relationship I was expected to grin and bare for her sake.

I have discovered that there are grey areas. I am trying to learn to be normal in an abnormal situation. I am expected to do a lot of mothering without any of the rewards of being a mother. I have to make sure I don’t step on the mothers’ toes as I learn my role. I am constantly reminded that I am not their mother just in case I forget that I did not give birth to these children. Don’t try and take the mothers’ place. Don’t post a picture of me and the children on social media. Don’t help the children to make their mothers Christmas cards. Feed them, read to them, carry their stuff, spend money on them, clean up after them, cook for them, play with them but don’t try and parent them.

I like to sleep. A lot. Last night the 2 year old cried for 3 hours. She ended up in our bed with the lights and tv on. I was annoyed because I am exhausted. It is my biggest day at work today. I have been stressed for weeks, working long hours. I have been working towards this day for 3 months. I ended up getting 4 hours sleep and am frazzled. Not so selfless now, am I? I have started to dread sleepovers at my boyfriend’s house.

I cannot compete with a 2 year old for her father’s time and attention. It isn’t right. Last night I was distressed about my family back home and ended up crying. A two year old cries louder. I needed my boyfriend. She needed her daddy. I was left alone sobbing in the bathroom at 1am. I cannot be held because she needs to be held. She is 2. I am 32 and an idiot.

I wanted some quality time with my boyfriend after a few hectic weeks. This never happens when there are children around. Plans and schedules change on a whim. I have to fit in. My life is squeezed in around them. There is barely room for me. Between 3 jobs, 2 kids and 2 mothers, I don’t exactly rank very high. We don’t go on dates. I’m not wined or dined. There is no money because there are children. Every evening that the children are there I am lucky if we get half an hour of “us” time in front of a tv. No dinners or concerts or parties or cocktails or romantic weekends away….there is no money. Now I see how shallow I am; how much I love all the traditional parts of dating. And I like sex. A lot. We were about to have sex last night: clothes were coming off, kissing, touching…I had looked forward to it all day and then the 2 year old woke up. No sex. Again.

I fell asleep by myself. No cuddling. I ask God what I am doing with my life. I live out the boot of my car between 2 houses. I am the one that must drive home in the cold and dark in the middle of the night. I am not selfless like my mother was. I resent the joke that my life has become. I resent all the inconvenience. I resent the sleepless nights and early mornings and lack of quality time together.

I look at my boyfriend and realize that he has done the baby thing already. All the firsts that I dreamed of will not happen. He has gone through 2 pregnancies with not one, but two women. He has his first born son. He has his precious daughter; the apple of his eye and the love his life.

When we started dating he didn’t want more children. I wanted to be excited about having our own children together, but it was always ruined by the knowledge that he had done this before. And in his heart of hearts I know he doesn’t want to do it again. He tells me he will give me children to make me happy. I resent that this will never be something we can do together just us. Other women have already had the best of him. He will continue to compare us to everything that came before. Maybe that is unfair of me.

All I know is how much I don’t know. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be a step mother. I don’t know how to deal nicely with the mothers while still keeping my boundaries. I don’t know how to have my needs met when I am bottom of the pile: sleep, sex, time together, romance…

I am tired all the time. I am stressed. I am anxious because I know this cannot work out. I am not meant for this role. All the fun of a new relationship is overtaken by crazy exes and children who will always trump me. And so they should. I am selfish. I am immature. I am a horrible, horrible person. If I know anything it is that I need to end this. I just don’t know how.

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I just want to be thin.

An Open Letter To My Daughter’s Stepmom

thefatballerinablogs:

How to do the blended family thing with grace and love.

Originally posted on women with worth - w3:

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To My Daughter’s Stepmom

I never wanted you here. You simply were never part of the plan. Growing up and dreaming of my family I never included you.   I didn’t want help from another woman to raise my child.  The plan was for my family to include me, daddy and our children, not you.  I doubt you ever wanted me in your life. I doubt you planned to mother a child that you didn’t give birth to. I can bet that your plan for your family included you, daddy and your children together, not me or my daughter. I can almost bet that when you dreamed of becoming a mother it would be the day you gave birth and not the day you married your husband.  I’m pretty sure you never planned on me being here.

But God has plans that far exceed our own and when my little…

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How To Buy Holiday Gifts For A Loved One With An Eating Disorder

thefatballerinablogs:

I wish everyone knew this! My boyfriend bought me clothing and it was triggering because of the size.

Originally posted on Fearless Nutrition:

Last year, I received a tweet from a mother unsure of how to shop for her daughter’s Christmas stocking, now that her daughter was battling an eating disorder. Navigating that situation can be tricky, especially since eating disordered life has so many ups and downs, and what you love one day is triggering the next. Here are some tips to get you started on your holiday shopping for your loved one with an eating disorder:

Holiday Gifts

1. Clothing – This is one of the most treacherous areas to venture into. Whether you guess too small on size, too large, or just right, it still says that you’re noticing the size of their body. Unless they’ve requested a specific item  in a specific size, until they are well into recovery, it’s best not to risk it.

  • What you can do instead: Fun, fluffy socks, jewelry, a bathrobe, slippers, hats, mitts, scarves –…

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The Skinny

 

I fit into my skinny jeans. I haven’t been able to wear them for 18 months. I am down nearly 20lbs since June. I really want to lose just 10-15lbs more.

My latest hospital stint set back my gym time and training, but on the plus side I didn’t eat much.

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ED and the ER

I ended up in emergency last week. Again. That is three times in four months if anyone is keeping track. Every hospital visit has been a direct result of my ED and the toll it has taken on my body.

The kidney infection I had five weeks ago came back with a vengeance despite a round of antibiotics. I had kept up some restrictive eating and the usual amount of purging, but couldn’t figure out why I was feeling so awful. I hadn’t realized that the kidney infection was still ongoing. Being dehydrated from purging obviously didn’t help my kidneys either. On Monday I was peeing blood and vomiting and had to leave work. I went to the hospital where I was treated in emergency with IV antibiotics and fluids.

At one point the doctor asked me for my medical history. I mentioned that I had issues with ED.

“What’s the current status on that?” he asked looking concerned.

I shrugged, “so-so”. I was too embarrassed to tell him how severe it is given that I am so fat. He made some notes and then proceeded to tell me that I was seriously ill.

I had to go back to hospital for 5 days in a row and get more IV antibiotics. The nurse was alarmed at how low my blood pressure was and how dehydrated I was. She called a doctor in who hadn’t seen me and he asked for my medical history. At this point my boyfriend was sitting in the room with me so I shrugged and told him that there was nothing to tell. I know that if I had told the doctor about my purging habit that the BP and dehydration would have made sense to him right away. He would have understood that my kidneys are struggling most of the time. I just couldn’t bring myself to have that conversation in front of my boyfriend.

I have only purged once since last week. I have been physically weak and exhausted so much so that I have struggled to work never mind go to the gym. I was actually scared for the first time in a long time that I might die from my ED. I had a dream that I had renal failure. Being in hospital every day and being so ill made me think that perhaps I don’t want to spend the rest of my life like this. I’m sure that feeling will pass and I will be back to “normal” in a bit.

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Insults and Insensitivity

 

My boyfriend informs me that he feels insulted when I say that I am fat or ugly. He says it is as though I am questioning his judgement (which I am). He says that he is so infatuated with my naked body (cue some non-self-induced barfing) as well as in love with me and that it hurts him to hear the negative comments.

Later on I think about the conversation, feel bad, eat my feelings and throw them up. Problem solved.

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