[title subtitle=”WORDS: Stoney Stamper
IMAGES: courtesy Stoney and April Stamper”][/title]
Statistics show that one in two marriages end in divorce, and that currently there are over 30-million children living in a home with a step-parent, in the USA, alone. That’s a lot of families, and a lot of confused little kids having to learn to live with, and trust, someone who is not their “real” mom or dad. It also makes for, in my case anyway, some very confused step-parents.
First off, if you’re a step-parent, let me tip my hat to you, and say thank you. You freakin’ deserve it. Knowing that there are millions of others out there, losing their minds, struggling with some of the same “you’re not my dad” issues that I was going through daily, gave me a certain amount of confidence. It’s an if-they-can-do-it, I-can-do-it kind of thing. I don’t think I’m any better than anyone else, but I don’t think I am necessarily any worse, either.
Abby and Emma are my beautiful “step” daughters. That’s what the law calls them. I just call them my daughters. My girls. They are no less my daughters than their little sister Gracee, my biological daughter. I love them, and would do anything for either one of them. However, it’s been a helluva long, screwy ride to get where we are today. I’m a very capable person. I can generally handle myself adequately, and with confidence, in nearly any situation. Few things make me shake in my boots. But THAT day, three years ago, well, that day I was as nervous as A-Rod taking a drug test. I couldn’t sit still. I was up, then down, walking around. A jittery mess. I was terrified. The gravity of the situation, to me, was crushing. Afterwards, I realized that I was nervous on many different levels.
First, April, this awesome, hot chick I really liked a lot, liked me so much that after several months of dating, she wanted me to meet her kids. That in itself made me a little shaky. Because she was really hot. Oh, and she had never introduced a man to her kids before. To me, that screams commitment, which made me feel like there was a cable clamped around my esophagus. But then, I began to think about other things. Like, OK, I really like her. Love her, even (gulp). But what if her kids don’t like me? Will she still want to date me? That’s heavy. I’d had a hard enough time trying to get one woman to like me for any extended period of time. Much less three! And, what if I didn’t like them? I know that sounds a little harsh because they’re just little girls, but let’s be honest, some people are “kid” people, and some just aren’t. I never had been. Ever. So, the thought of really liking her, and the possibility of these kids jacking everything up, was a pretty legitimate fear. And, even though others may not admit it, I know I’m not the only one who had ever felt that way.
And these two girls were quite different from one another. They couldn’t be more opposite, in fact. First, there was Emma. Oh, Emma. She had just turned seven years old when we met. She’s a blonde, with bright blue eyes. She’s spirited and wild. The next thing that will come out of her mouth, well your guess is just as good as mine. I’d calculate that about sixty percent of the actual words that come out of her mouth probably make their way onto The Daddy Diaries. If you happen to have an itch to write a daddy blog, well Emma is a friggin’ gold mine. I have to write down the funny things she says, because she says them so often, and I’ll forget them if I don’t. She’s also outgoing, loving, and so easy to get to know. She’ll talk to anyone and she’ll tell you all about herself in the first ten minutes after you meet her. Not long after we met she’d sit on my lap, give me a hug when I would leave, and when she first told me she loved me I thought I might freak out. As far as making me feel comfortable, she did great.
Then we’ve got Abby. She was ten years old and was a WAY tougher nut to crack. She’s a brunette, with hazel eyes. She has an excellent, dry sense of humor. She’s quiet, calm, and mature for her age, and extremely laid back. Now, don’t get me wrong, she’s completely capable of going off the rails of the crazy train, but hey, she just turned thirteen. We’ll give her a pass. But, she’s also very cautious. She and her mom have a unique relationship, and when I first came along Abby was scared that I was going to somehow affect that. She wasn’t necessarily mean to me, but she was totally and completely indifferent to my existence. She would act like I wasn’t in the room. She refused to look at me and would only speak to me in muted, one syllable words, and only if her mother made her. She made me so nervous.
It became my mission in life to make Abby like me. Almost everyone likes me. Surely, I can make this girl like me. I tried being sweet. Nope. Not even close. I tried being funny. Nope. She’d go out of her way not to laugh. I tried buying her things, to which she would say thank you, because she has good manners, but nothing seemed to crack through her shell. For months I tried, and hadn’t seemed to make any progress, whatsoever. It really upset me, although I did my best to not let Abby know it. April tried to make me feel better about it, but I was at a loss. She said, “Just ignore her. She’ll come around eventually.” But that was impossible. I couldn’t make myself ignore her. So, I just kept trying.
And then one day, Abby came and sat down by me on the couch.
And then she told me a story of something funny that happened at school.
And then she laughed about it, and said, “Isn’t that funny?”
And then one night she asked me if I’d take her to Sonic to get her some ice cream.
And then she probably farted.
What I am getting at is that she began to trust me, a little, finally. She realized that I wasn’t there to steal her mother away. Or to steal her things, or kill her dog. She realized that I just genuinely loved her mom, and that I also genuinely loved her. She realized that my attitude towards her wasn’t an act, but was who I really was, and how I really felt. I was there because I wanted to be. Not because I had to be. And, finally, it worked!
So, if you’ve got some new step-kids, if you are slamming your head against a wall or thinking about jumping off a bridge, just hang in there. Just keep showing them that you’re there for the long haul. Be nice to them. Try not to be too awkward or uncomfortable, like I did, because that probably ain’t gonna help a whole lot. But if I could only give you one solid piece of advice, the most important thing that you can do by far is show them that you really love their mother (or father). Once they see that, and they believe it, I promise you, those kids will fall in line, eventually. I know some of you will have a harder time than others, but perseverance is the key.
Now, don’t get me wrong, after three years, we’re still a work in progress. Some days I just want to scream. We have our days that we all want to kill each other. But that’s just regular family, right?
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Stoney Stamper is the author of the popular parenting blog, The Daddy Diaries. He and his wife April have three daughters: Abby, Emma and Gracee. Originally from northeast Oklahoma, the Stampers now live in Tyler, Texas. For your daily dose of The Daddy Diaries, visit Stoney on Facebook or on his website, thedaddydiaries.net.
