Not All Stepmoms Are Wicked

I’m not sure anyone ever wishes for, or asks, to be a Stepmom.

I was 26 years old when I met my husband. For years I had been looking for Mr. Right, and I had my checklist that included, but was not limited to a tall, handsome man who made me laugh and was driven by his career. I had been in serious relationships before, but I was unsettled by the men I had previously encountered and although I enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, I was ready to finally be settled. So, on that memorable night in November 2003, I began talking to the man that would become my husband. He was tall (check), handsome (check), funny (check) and a fireman (BONUS!). What I didn’t know at that time, but what I eventually found out,was that he was divorced and had two daughters. So NOT on my checklist.

Just like it was a surprise to learn about the “other” women in his lives, meeting my future stepdaughters for the first time was unexpected also. It was a year into our relationship, and we were parking at his parents’ house in order to attend a community event. It was Halloween 2004, and all I remember is a three year-old Wonder Woman being held by her grandmother, and a five year-old princess running after her. I stopped dead in my tracks. “Do I introduce myself, will he introduce me?” It was a very quick interaction, but I knew the “first” meeting, albeit informal, was over.

Over the next few years, my interaction with the girls was effortless. Because of our agreement with their mom, we are fortunate enough to share, and continue to share, responsibility for the girls. Therefore, we have our own family dynamic. What began as a casual situation, quickly and easily, turned into a family. They were so excited when my husband proposed, I was so excited for them to share in our wedding day as flower girls, and they are the BEST big sisters to their 2 ½ year-old brother Ryan, who is now almost as old as one of his big sisters was when I met her.

What I find hardest about being a Stepmom is experiencing those “reality check” moments when I realize I’m not their mom. When they’re with us, we’re a traditional family—doing homework, eating dinner together, playing, disciplining, etc… But, what I sometimes forget is they experience something similar at their mother’s house. They essentially have two lives and we’re not a part of their other one. The girls and I do our “ladies-only” shopping sprees, go to movies, out to lunch, share secrets, gossip, the latest in pop culture, etc… like any mother-daughter/s would. But, I don’t get the privilege of being the first female they call if they’re sick or listed as an emergency contact. It's a fine line to balance, but just as I hope I've taught them, the girls have sure taught me. I’m extremely grateful for the relationship I have with my two stepdaughters. They embraced me like another mother, they recognize me on Mother’s Day and they’ve naturally learned to share their love. No one can tell the heart that they’re not my own, because I love them like they’re my own.

This week, my oldest stepdaughter will be undergoing corrective surgery for scoliosis. When I learned she would have to get this done, I cried, like any mother would, despite knowing this will be the best thing that ever happened to her. I struggled with my place in the waiting room at the hospital with both their mother and father, and am confident that if I love her like my own and I care for her like one of my own, then I will be alongside her biological parents, because it is where I belong. It’s a constant change to go from mom to stepmom almost on a daily basis, but I'm really getting good at it.

Few do wish for, or ask, to be a Stepmom, if you’re as lucky as I am, you may want to consider it.