11 vague thoughts on being a step-parent

Last week my husband's youngest son turned 12. This means I have known him for seven years. The eldest is nearly 14, and their double digit advancement is relentless. It lacks imagination but recently even I've been wailing with sadness about how fast they grow up. I cheerfully admit total hypocrisy here, because I've spent the last seven years moaning about what a massive pain young kids are.


Two main things strike me on the far side of this recent birthday milestone. One, several friends have since also collected step kids, ignoring a lot of advice they didn't ask for, but seemingly doing a much better job than me. I'm guessing there'll be more of these to come. And two, I haven't come to any conclusions whatsoever about the value or worth of having my own children, and I don't know whether this is clouded by spending time with someone else's. Children are still as big a mystery to me today as they ever were. Why and how people merrily have them with minimal thought and maximum confidence is a total puzzle. The only thoughts I have are vague, such as;

1. We share clothes a lot, the two boys and I. I'm wearing a lovely navy gilet now which belongs to one of them. And, since they've forgotten they own it, I'll never be asked for it back. Sometimes at the dinner table I will look up and see them both in my hand me downs. Worryingly, my husband put a pair of boys Bonds undies in my clothes pile just this morning. This suggests problems in our marriage on many, many levels....though in my defence I haven't worn them. Yet.

2. I still dislike saying 'step kids' or 'stepson' or being on the receiving end description of 'step mother'. It just isn't comfortable. It's a bit like wearing trainers as street fashion, it's for other people.

3. It still surprises me how unaware 'real' parents are about how 'same same' step-parenting is. I still get asked by friends, 'so, how often do you have them?' as if it might be once a semester or three times a year. Same answer for seven years. Every second weekend, all year, and four weeks a year holiday. They also still, in conversation about their own kids, roll their eyes and say 'just wait!' as if I may not be aware of the phenomena of kids at bath time, or bed time, or travelling, or endless conversations about whether you'd rather be a warrior squirrel or a battlefield badger etc etc. I have done all of those things. I have ticked off that list too.

4. I feel good about the things I've taught them: laundry, cooking, and that God may just be a figment of mass imagination. They, in turn, have taught me a lot of things about igneous rocks, the angles of reflection and refraction, and the difference between Doric and Corinthian columns using the Bank of England as a case study. Together we have faced Wellington's Non Verbal Reasoning paper, and won. I bloody hate Non-Verbal Reasoning.

5. The thing I would like to teach them now is that it's all blind luck. Everything. Luck of genes, luck of country, luck of time, luck of the draw. They could so easily be riding a refugee boat out of North Africa, or being shelled in Afghanistan, or starving in some shit hole in Glasgow. I am sad that in going to boarding school they will be surrounded only by other white kids soaked in litres of similar luck. I hope they don't become people who moan about immigration levels, or paying tax.

6. I read somewhere once that being a step parent was like swimming up a waterfall. I don't know what they meant by that, I guess something about always trying but never getting there. It hasn't been that bad.

7. I had a funny conversation the other night with a man who just couldn't understand why his second wife didn't want to get particularly involved with his kids from his first marriage. 'She likes them, but she doesn't really want to have much to do with them...' he said, genuinely puzzled. He said, 'but isn't being a step-parent brilliant? All fun and no responsibility?' It made me laugh then, and on many occasions since. One day, people might stop assuming all women to be welcoming caves of maternal interest.

8. If I had one piece of advice to anyone new to it all, and even to myself today, it would be to do things with your partner's kids on your own. I don't even mean fun hobbies, though that's great if you can. I mean just anything, like picking them up from school, doing the groceries, washing the car, going for a run, anything. When you're on your own with someone you have to make more of an effort. When you are otherwise a bit of a third wheel, and not involved in the big decisions, it's hard to see why you should bother.

9. No one wants to hear that you don't love your step kids. This is strange to me, as scientific studies have proven that 56 per cent of all people in Western families daydream about murdering at least one blood family member*. If you do meet someone who says they understand, they will still ask you 'but you'd really miss them if they weren't around, right?' And the look they give you makes you want to hug them, and tell them everything is OK.

10. I don't understand why parents want to talk to their kids all the time. At work, a lot of fathers are in the early teen years at the moment and there's a lot of frustration about how their kids are silent in the long drives from school and back. I say, isn't silence one of humanity's greatest virtues? Coming years of teen silence holds no fear for me. It sure beats the 'badger army vs squirrel army' conversation.

11. I hate being beaten at anything by the kids. It is much, much worse than being beaten by anyone else. They bring out the worst of the bad loser in me.


*this is a totally made up statistic, I bet the truth is much higher.


By Katherine Burgdorf.

Women, listen up, stop apologising at work.

By Katherine Burgdorf.

I tell you, the one shelf I hate in the library of Feminism is the one where the books are titled 'Women And Work/Life Balance' This shelf is also stacked with books called 'Can You Have It All?' or 'You Can't Have It All' or 'Why Work and Children Don't Mix' etc etc. You get the picture. This topic in my opinion is eye-dryingly boring. So I'm a bit cross at having to enter the debate and contribute my own short rant but I need to because I might be able to put a stop to it all.

If I seem distracted at any point during this blog it's because Simon is doing pilates in the same room and the fabric of his shirt (yes, it's formal attire for pilates in our house) is making a sort of swooshing rustling sound which is a bit distracting. As is the intermittant grunting. He's doing some weird side to side hip swing that I haven't been taught since I was demoted from sharing classes with him, but I'll tell you about that one later.

Anyway, so I'm writing about the wretched 'We Can / We Cannot Have it All' subject because Sheryl Sandberg, the COO of Facebook, has been condemned recently by every woman who has a newspaper column for writing in her book, 'Lean In', that women should aim to get as high up in the career ladder as possible before having kids so that when they come back to work they'll be in a better position to negotiate their own terms, which will make being a working parent easier. Or that's what I think the book is about, I haven't actually read it, but I have now read about 43 columns on why Sheryl Sandberg doesn't know beans from eggs so I'm fairly confident that's what the book is about. I am going to read it though, because it sounds like fantastic advice.

Sheryl Sandberg is successful, if you call having a great job and being well paid a success. Which I do. She's a woman. She's rich. Do you know what people hate more than a successful, rich person? Yes, you guessed it, a successful rich woman and even more than her, a successful rich mother. Do you know why? No, me neither. But apparently being a successful, rich woman in charge of a few million kids in hoodies at Facebook means you have Lost Touch With Reality and Are Unable To Give Advice. This is according to such notable bods as Arianna Huffington (Media baroness), Kirstie Allsop (Television producer, I LOVE her), and Anne-Marie Slaughter (ex State Dept chief). Apparently the only person who agrees with Sandberg's advice is Marissa Meyer, CEO of Yahoo, who is disqualified from being right because she's so successful she's had a nursery put in next to her office. Do you know what? If Sheryl Sandberg offered me 20 minutes of her time in order to give me some advice on any subject, I'd take it.

(While doing his 'clams' exercise Simon notes we have some Easter egg wrappers under our sofa which is why you should never do pilates at home).

Now here's the thing. Sometimes, if I'm in a decent frame of mine (not often, not often, but occassionally) I also think I've made a fairly successful run at life. I am employed, I am fit, I have a pension and I've been to the dentist in the past 12 months.  Those are the four main measures of success in the Burgdorf family and who are you to tell me that they're not acceptable standards? And while I'm rich on a relative Governmental/statistical type basis I do not travel by private jet, so I'm not too rich to give you my advice. So here it is: to mothers who work, or women who think they might one day be mothers who work.

Don't explain, don't apologise.

That's it. That is my advice.

And here's what it's based on. I work in a stockbroking firm of 150 people. It's an industry which is, arguably, cut and thrust. I mean it's not local council, although ocassionally someone turns up also wearing a short sleeve shirt. If leaving the EU means we can sack people who wear short sleeve shirts then I'm voting UKIP at the next election. I digress. Anyway, so about 18 per cent of people at my firm are women. I think about half those women have kids. But I would say of all the women at work, maybe three per cent of those women are revenue earners (traders, analysts, salespeople). The rest are back office or 'support staff'  i .e secretarial, admin, HR etc). So to take the extreme end of being a working woman in the City, only one has kids. That's one out of 150 people in London and New York. So basically, like, no one. And here's the thing. I know nothing about whether that person has a work/life balance or not. And since she is the only revenue earner with kids...wouldn't you think the spotlight shone brightly on her? Wouldn't you think that everyone saw how much time she spent arranging her life around her kids? But...here's the thing. I have no idea. And I bet no one else does either. I think we all probably assume she gets on with her job and sorts her kids out as she sees fit. And actually, I don't care. And I mean that in the nicest possible way. Whether she is, or isn't, adjusting her work life to make room for her family life is totally unknown to me and simply not of interest. Unless she turns up with a shotgun and offers to kill me, then I'm just going to leave her to it. And the police haven't called which presumably means they don't care either. But my point isn't really about her. It's about the 82 per cent of other people in the office. The men.

Let's say roughly half the men in my office have kids. There has been a significant baby boom in the UK in the five years since we set up our company. Lots of them have photos of their kids and wives on their computers or on their desks. It's nice. And here's the thing. They spend an awful lot of work time going to watch their kids at school. Athletics, plays, presentation days, school interviews. You name it, and middle class dads in London will be there. I think in my school career my parents turned up to a day time event once apiece each. In 12 years. In London, I would guess mums and dads turn up to school events about twice a term, so about six times a year. I have never heard a man in my office apologise for leaving early to watch an egg and spoon race. Ever. I have never heard a man in my office apologise for leaving at 4.30pm to go to a school interview. Ever. And I have never heard anyone question them for taking time from the day to go and watch their kids at school.

Because....no.one.cares.

If you don't make it 'a thing' then it's not 'a thing'. Let's call it presumptive parenting. You work hard. You own a small, future taxpayer, that sometimes requires flexible work time. Deal with it. If you're good at your job, your company wants you. If you're crap at your job, it doesn't matter how much time you spend at work, your company would rather you left and spent more time with your kids.

Honestly people, no one really cares whether you go and see your kid's sack race at the school carnival. No one minds if you duck out at 2pm to see your child play Jesus's donkey at Passover. I promise. No one will notice. Not your boss, not your team, not your clients. Unless. Unless you fret over it, and mention it, and apologise for it, and mention it again twenty three times in the lead up and fifty six times afterwards. And then quite possibly it will be used against you by a backstabbing teammate who wants your job. Quite possibly your charming but sexist boss will use it against you to pay you a smaller bonus. But you'll never know that, because he's not going to tell you that is he? That's a wider issue of institutional sexism. Which is NOT boring, and which is precisely why you need to lean in, as Sheryl would advise, and take his job before you have kids. But institutional sexism need have nothing to do with your day to day ability to enjoy your job and your kids (or indeed your life, if you don't have kids).

Women really are their own worst enemies when it comes to feeling 'guilty' about work. Guilt is humanity's most useless emotion. My riding teaching taught me that about 20 years ago and it stuck with me. Guilt doesn't move anything forward. It's a selfish preoccupation with an issue you're too lazy to deal with. Women are too meek and too mild, and spend too much time apologising. Watch Amy Cuddy's TED Talk on the psychology of positive posture and tell me is doesn't ring a thousand bells. Employers want to give senior jobs to people who get shit done. Women can be those people. But not if they spend four hours of every day explaining why they were factionally late or must leave fractionally early. No.one.cares.

The confusing thing to me is hearing new mothers talk about understanding the smugness of other mothers. You've bred, and delivered a new human to the world. You've reproduced! I read about mothers who say 'before I had kids I lacked ambition / was scared of my own shadow / was directionless' and after kids they say 'I was so motivated / I became fearless / I realised I'm a mother, I can do ANYTHING' but then when they return to the workplace they start apologising for being parents, for having other commitments. They start apologising to their own staff, or worse, their bosses. Or, frankly, anyone who will listen.

Before any readers start howling, I am not saying being a working parent is easy. The concept of 'having it all' is as ridiculous as it sounds. No one on earth has it all. Not the oligarch, not the Vicar, not the FTSE CEO. Having it all is the most dishonest starting point for a conversation as ever existed. I am not writing about the pull of work vs child. That's a totally different subject. I am talking about women who have kids and are working. Sheryl Sandberg might be rich now, but she wasn't always. Richard Branson might be a man, but you can take his advice. Women really are their own worst enemies in the office. If your employer truly makes it impossible to leave work to attend to your kids here and there then move department or move company. It's a marketplace of talent out there, and if you don't believe me, you've obviously never tried to hire staff. If you're good, you're sought after. With or without kids. It is not to say pervasive sexism isn't at work....it is. Having kids very sadly might mean you aren't hired for a senior role. But if you're IN the job you like already, don't make a meal of it just because you do have kids. Men don't. They operate from that position of presumptive parenting. If you need to leave at 5pm on Wednesday's to get to your nursery, then leave at 5pm. If you're 20 minutes late to work, don't broadcast it to the firm. Try to look as it you're in charge, because you probably are. Also try to avoid marrying a useless man in the first place. That would be my other piece of serious advice to women. Don't marry the useless men. And please don't reproduce with them, because that's the last thing we need. And don't apologise.

It really is very simple. There are so many other aspects of the battle for feminism we have little control over...Page 3, genuine equal pay, assault, female genital mutilation. Those are the issues worthy of books. Achieving a happy medium of work and family life in the First World is entirely possible. Just act as if what you need to do it right and, I promise you, 90 per cent of the time it will be, and the other 10 per cent isn't going to matter in the real scheme of things. They are calling this a 'mancession' in Europe for a reason. Men have turned out not to have the flexible careers and skills they can work a downturn. Women do. So get on with it and give poor bloody Sheryl Sandberg a break because the last time I checked being successful was a great reason to pass on some advice.

The kids are alright...being old skool.

Harry, 11, sauntered into the kitchen yesterday to show us a piece of kit he'd bought for his laptop. He was puffed with pride. The laptop is still a fairly new addition to his life as a cool kid, a top dog, a soon-to-be-teen, a King Pin...or do I mean Donkey Kong? Because the kit in question was a mouse. A mouse...with a cord.

Yes, in this age of electroterrific genius and technofabulous development Harry seems to have bought the only, how shall we call it, cordful mouse left in the UK. Honestly, I've only just stopped laughing long enough to start typing. We paid him out for the whole day.

'I'd like to buy a mouse for my laptop, please.'
'Certainly Sir, and what did Sir have in mind?
'Well, something dashedly inconvenient with limited range, I should think. Yes, something I can really get tangled up in.'
'Sir, may I say you're a man of exceedingly good sense. Luckily, I have just the thing.'

The only surprise is he didn't also come home with the world's last thermal fax machine, or a typewriter. In fact we're certain he can qualify for misselling compensation, like those victims of the banks' Payment Protection Insurance scams. Harry insists he wanted a mouse with a cord because 'then I don't have to worry about installing it.' I don't think it's been neccessary to 'install' a cordless mouse for half a decade but as long as he's got what he wants then who are we to judge? Of course, it's possible this penchance for antique hardware runs in the family. His grandfather, a consultant investigator, only recently retired his thermal fax...because he can no longer find anyone who stocks the replacement paper anymore.

But I think it says more about the old school nature of kids these days. They don't smoke, they don't do drugs, they sing along to Lenny Kravitz. In their limited free time they watch re-runs of Dad's Army, Grand Designs and Rocky. Yesterday Charlie, 13, wore straight legged, grey jeans teamed with a grey jumper. If he isn't pining for the days of Chairman Mao I don't know what's going on. These are simple folk.

My own theory, dreamt up purely for the purposes of this blog, is that kids yearn for simpler things. They know, instinctively, there's too much choice available at too young an age. They know there are cordless mice, bluetooth mice, iMice. But they also know they don't need these things. What kids want these days are winter walks and hot chocolate. They hand craft Valentines Cards and actually send them to people they like. They hug their friends when posing for photos. They talk of owning pets and, for a fiver, they'll do a decent job of washing your car and be thankful for the job. All this flies in the face of the popular theory that all kids these days want to be famous without doing any work. I know that's true in some cases, but I have a hunch it's not the norm.

Psychologists also write about modern kids wanting boundaries. I think I've worked out this weekend they're right. They do want boundaries, preferably half a metre long with a plug at the end. The next time I'm mugged I'm going to dangle two pieces of kit in front of my attacker and see which one he goes for....my new iPad 4 or an Etch-a-Sketch (and I mean an original from, like, 1986).

While we find it tough sometimes to accept our kids' old fashioned, self-set limitations, I think they might actually be doing us a favour.. Their hesitation may be the only way we can maintain any kind of technical parity. So be thankful that it's still true, youth, and technology, is wasted on the young.


Katherine Burgdorf types this blog assisted by a cordless mouse.

Is it OK to bring a baby to a concert?

By Gabrielle Jackson

Last night I went to see Norwegian folk-pop duo Kings of Convenience at the Sydney Opera House.

Their first words to the crowd went something like this:

'Sitting backstage, we were saying, "We don't have a broken fingernail, our voices are totally OK, we don't have a broken arm. What could go wrong?"

'There's a baby in the audience.'

Then the other half of the duo piped up.

'As a father of two, I applaud your effort, but maybe you could sit somewhere that when the baby is happy you can stay and when the baby is bored you can go out.'

There was a bit of a nervous silence as the audience looked around for the offending baby/parent. Then the KOC star spoke up again.

'You can sit on the side of the stage! It's very accessible.'

More nervous silence.

'I'm serious. Sit here,' he pointed, and the offending mother got up out of her seat, with a baby strapped to her front, and made her way to the front of the theatre to applause from the audience. I believe an usher intercepted her and so I didn't see if she ever got to take her baby onstage, but I thought it was interesting in light of recent media beat-up about parents and mothers in particular.

First, there was the controversy over a Sydney man asking some parents whose baby had reportedly been crying for over 10 minutes to take their child for a walk or find another solution. A column about it generated 1200 comments. And then there was the Melbourne mum who rocked up to her friend's farewell drinks with her baby strapped to her - at 6pm - only to be told minutes later she had to leave, despite only intending to stay for an hour (and the baby being asleep).

Personally, I have no trouble with a mother going to a bar with her sleeping baby at 6pm. I'm sure I would do it if my friend invited me to her farewell drinks and I had a baby.

And to the man who confronted the parents, well I can't say, I wasn't there. Personally, I've never been in a cafe where parents have let their children run wild. I've seen parents trying to enjoy getting out of the house and struggling with children who'd rather run away than drink their babyccino, but never parents willfully ignoring disruptive children. But maybe these people had zero self awareness and deserved the rebuke. Or maybe the rebuker was just a curmudgeon. The thing is, judging whole sections of society (ie, parents who leave the house occasionally) based on second hand anecdotes serves no purpose other than to make way for the Murdoch press to step in as the obligatory Morality Police.

And look, I too applaud the woman's bravery (and good taste) in bringing her baby to Kings of Convenience, but let's be clear: KOC are folk pop. Their music is soft and willowy and makes you want to lie on the grass and close your eyes. Would you want to sit next to a baby at this show - where the audience's sole purpose is to sit silently so they can hear their favourite artists' art uninterrupted? Sorry, I think it's selfish: to the artists and the other fans. And silly, because - honestly - did that woman have a good time?

What do you think? Not just about babies at concerts but at pubs, cafes and restaurants - you know, places where 'people' go?