Getting Past the "Step" in Step-Parenting

I had someone ask me awhile back how long it took me to stop seeing Aubrie as my stepdaughter and begin feeling like she was one of my own. It was a question I should've expected to be asked eventually I guess. I just hadn't thought about it yet. 

The more I consider the posts I write to what my heart feels compelled to share I realize that this is more than me writing my family's history. More than something to leave my children one day. This unorganized, raw glimpse into my family's life is for people who are struggling to make sense of their own family life.

We aren't the conventional family. I don't have all the answers. Very few in fact. I do have loads of my own personal experiences and beliefs that I feel very strongly about. And being Aubrie's mother is definitely one of them. 

So when this person posed the question I had to think about it for a moment.

I'm not sure there was ever a conscious choice for me. It wasn't something I decided, it was something I felt.

I was head over heels for her father. She was born seven months after we had started seeing one another and those seven months were nothing like anything I had ever experienced before. My husband treated me like a queen from the very beginning. So naturally when I saw him cradle her in his arms and watch him fall in love with her in an instant, my heart swelled. Not just for him, but this perfect extension of the most incredible man I had ever met.

This man who had taken my daughter as his own only months before.  Without expectations of being with me forever. He fell in love with her and saw that she deserved someone who would put her before themselves and he was more than willing to be that man.

We have a strong commitment to family. Our children's feelings come first in all decisions we make. When you ask me how did you get to that spot? How did you overcome feeling like just another person in her life? I just smile and wonder how could I not?

These children didn't ask to come into this world. They didn't ask for us to be the people who watch out for them. She surely didn't ask for me to be her mom. Just as Lydia never asked my husband to be her dad. Life however, takes us places we never knew we always wanted to be. You don't make a decision to start loving anyone, why would you think you would do it for a child?

There aren't "step" parents in our house. We are parents. Pure and simple. Does my son have a biological father? Of course. Is he in the picture? Yes. Am I Aubrie's biological mother? No. Does that make me any less of a mother to her? No.

We are parents to our children regardless of the prefix. Step, biological, adopted, doesn't matter. They all end with "parent." A child doesn't put a distinction on something unless it's learned. If you acknowledge that you are different then you are. But, if you accept your family for what it is then they will too.

All families are unique. I understand that not all parents involved get along (trust me). I know that sometimes kids can be difficult. Especially when they are older and adjusting to something entirely different than what they're use to. But every choice you make will lead you in a direction that's hard to come back from. You can make conscious decisions based on what you think is easiest or you can lead with your heart and do everything you can for this extension of your spouse.

Life's greatest gifts are our children. They give the world a promise of tomorrow. If we damage them by holding them in the middle of our conflicted feelings we start a cycle of negativity not only for them, but for those they encounter throughout their lives. The biggest expectation I have for my children is that they live their lives putting what's right before all else. Even when it's the unpopular choice. Even when it is hard as Hell. Even when they know it's going to change their lives forever.

Yes, loving Aubrie as my own was the right decision. More importantly though, loving Aubrie as my own was what my heart told me to do. I may not always trust my thoughts, but I always trust my heart. I am one of the lucky ones who didn't decipher between what was easy and what was right because in my case they were the same thing. It was easy to love her. It was easy to accept her and best of all my actions easily led her to loving me too.

So in my own long, roundabout way I hope I answered her question. In a day and age where we are constantly bombarded by labels I implore you to consider removing yours. You aren't a stepparent. You are a parent. So be a great one. 

I Accept That

Kids equal drama. Period.

Now they aren't the same "drama" as that bitch from high school everyone remembers. But they are drama nonetheless.

They can test the limits of my sanity and make me question everything I ever thought I cared about. Like seriously, how much sleep do I really need?

Oh who am I kidding? A lot. I need a lot of sleep. Do I get it? No. Do they? No. So what usually follows? You guessed it!

Drama!

There is no drama like that of a sleep deprived four year old. There's no test more grueling or more mentally taxing than trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind that long-drawn-out-barely-audible-whine-between-sobs that my daughter produces when she is pissed off and tired.

And God forbid I mumble a confused what? At the end.

As her mom I am apparently supposed to be connected on a deeper level than what I originally thought. I mean yeah, when she hurts, I hurt. When she's happy, I'm happy. But telepathy? Come on now. I am not a mind reader and she hates it. I accept that.

In a way I totally get where they are coming from. I mean I would be over the moon excited if throwing a hellacious tantrum in the middle of my bedroom got me everything I desired too. In short, however, life doesn't work like that. In fact, life gave them a mother more stubborn than them. They can scream until they explode for all I care.

Sometimes they don't get to wear the jeans they want because I didn't do the laundry yesterday. This may be the end of their world, ya know? Doesn't matter that these jeans are clean. They are slightly baggier than the other ones.
They hate them and me for making them wear them. I accept that.

Mornings like this they sulk and watch me from afar with a death stare that truly rivals my own. I can feel the anger resonating off of them from a room away. I don't know whether to laugh or be terrified of what's to come. Let's face it, I made them, it was bound to happen eventually, but this soon?

I never prepared myself for the day I would unknowingly compete for the last word with my ten year old. But, that happened yesterday.
I never gave thought to the day my six year old would become so emotionally sensitive that she would cry from me asking her what she just said. But, my daughter is a sensitive soul.
It never crossed my mind that one day my kid would look at me with a meaner face than my own. But every one of them have and I realize they all get it honest.

My kids are full of attitude. Piss and vinegar some may call it. Even when they push me to my breaking point, I couldn't be prouder that each one of them speak their mind. I'm raising kids with backbones. So drama naturally follows. I accept that.

I've come to realize a few things about drama because of them. Family drama is usually produced from love and can be a wonderful thing. It can be an opportunity to grow. Outside drama usually stems from jealousy and is the complete opposite. It hinders and can sometimes even kill relationships.
That's why sometimes I intervene and sometimes I let it unfold. Family drama still makes me behave like a crazy person and mostly lands me the title of "Meanest Mom Ever." But, I accept that.