I spent several days over the holidays gathering all of my family's photographs from the last year, starting December 27, 2013, when my stepchildren arrived in the U.S. This has been an arduous task, involving pulling scores of selfies from three cell phones, a digital camera, multiple clouds and photostreams to tell the visual story of their first year here--and my first year as a full time parent.
Immediate things stand out, like how much they've grown. My stepson is now taller than me and my stepdaughter is gaining on me by the day. And the pictures chronicle all that has happened: they have gone through a year of school; celebrated their birthdays and numerous holidays for the first time; traveled to Los Angeles, Lake Tahoe, the Russian River, New York and Connecticut; played soccer and music and performed in dance concerts; learned how to swim and ski; made friends; and learned English.
As I review the photographs, my own narrative of this year unfolds alongside them. Recently, I found a sketchbook in which I had written "parenting promises" I made as part of a ritual I held right before the children arrived. Here are a few:
1) Being fair and judicious;
2) Having patience;
3) Not taking things personally;
4) Keeping it real when it has to be kept real;
5) Discovering what they care about as individuals and nurturing that.
Looking back, I would say that I generally have upheld these promises. There were moments when I so desperately wanted to be alone that I fantasized about running out of the house and never coming back. I struggled with the demands of my job and a long commute, which meant that my time with the kids was often very limited. I lost my patience and temper a few times, times that I'm not particularly proud of. And I was very hard on myself--drowning in guilt when I felt like I wasn't committing the way I should.
I have learned that parenting is a process that unfolds day by day--it's not a linear narrative. But in reflecting on this past year, I think back to the beginning and realized how much I have changed. I feel more even, more patient, more able to detach when I shouldn't take it personally...essentially more able to fulfill those promises on a deeper level.
When I tell people that a year ago my three stepchildren arrived from another country to live with me and my husband, they are often astounded. They can't imagine how they'd handle it. And my first reaction always is to tell them how good the kids are. This is true--they are wonderful kids (much of which I attribute to my husband's genes--and parenting) and I feel blessed and honored to witness their growth. They are thriving. All I can do is continue to walk alongside, letting our relationship unfold.
Immediate things stand out, like how much they've grown. My stepson is now taller than me and my stepdaughter is gaining on me by the day. And the pictures chronicle all that has happened: they have gone through a year of school; celebrated their birthdays and numerous holidays for the first time; traveled to Los Angeles, Lake Tahoe, the Russian River, New York and Connecticut; played soccer and music and performed in dance concerts; learned how to swim and ski; made friends; and learned English.
As I review the photographs, my own narrative of this year unfolds alongside them. Recently, I found a sketchbook in which I had written "parenting promises" I made as part of a ritual I held right before the children arrived. Here are a few:
1) Being fair and judicious;
2) Having patience;
3) Not taking things personally;
4) Keeping it real when it has to be kept real;
5) Discovering what they care about as individuals and nurturing that.
Looking back, I would say that I generally have upheld these promises. There were moments when I so desperately wanted to be alone that I fantasized about running out of the house and never coming back. I struggled with the demands of my job and a long commute, which meant that my time with the kids was often very limited. I lost my patience and temper a few times, times that I'm not particularly proud of. And I was very hard on myself--drowning in guilt when I felt like I wasn't committing the way I should.
I have learned that parenting is a process that unfolds day by day--it's not a linear narrative. But in reflecting on this past year, I think back to the beginning and realized how much I have changed. I feel more even, more patient, more able to detach when I shouldn't take it personally...essentially more able to fulfill those promises on a deeper level.
When I tell people that a year ago my three stepchildren arrived from another country to live with me and my husband, they are often astounded. They can't imagine how they'd handle it. And my first reaction always is to tell them how good the kids are. This is true--they are wonderful kids (much of which I attribute to my husband's genes--and parenting) and I feel blessed and honored to witness their growth. They are thriving. All I can do is continue to walk alongside, letting our relationship unfold.
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