Confessions of a Stepmom

    I never saw myself as the "motherly" type of gal.

I've always joked with those in my life that God forgot to put the womanly qualities in me; cooking, nurturing, the works. 

You know, the stuff that makes your mom a mom. 

When I was growing up during the holidays all the girls would be prepping, baking and talking jargon like "put it on broil at such & such degrees for so & so minutes until browned." 

I'm sorry, what? 

I was typically in the living room with my dad and all the uncles listening to talk about hunting and whatever else men discuss. 

Talk of politics would be floating somewhere in the background as a television show about southern men catching large bass flickered on and off. 

I had no interest in hunting or baking pies. 

My interest was eating. 

I never was the little girl that wanted to play mommy & daddy. 

I played adventures! 

Princess! 

Heroes! 

Villains! 

While other little girls daydreamed about their future husband I had fantasies of saving the world.

Just Britney. 

Solo. 

Ms. Independent. 

Dressing up in a white sheet pretending it was your wedding day seemed pretty lame to me. 

Who wants a flimsy dress when you can have a cape? 

Obviously the teen years hit and boys came into my world like a meteor struck straight into my core. 

I made countless foolish decisions like many teenage girls who are in deep, wreck less "love" do. 

My stance on children never wavered even when I dated someone who desperately wanted children. 

Something just wouldn't settle. 

I got the typical, "ohhhh you're just young. You'll change your mind!"

Didn't happen. 

I grimaced at mothers who licked their fingers and wiped their kids' day old chocolate off their face. 

"Ohhh it's different when their your own. You just wait!"

I am currently 23 years old.

I still grimace at the mom spit move. 

I am full of sarcasm and a "suck it up" attitude. 

I make mistakes. A lot. 

Choice words fall off my lips when I step in mud puddles. 

I've got 13 tattoos and I fancy lip rings. 

I like "that's what she said" jokes entirely too much. 

But there's one thing God instilled in me from the start: deep, unconditional, unwavering, loyal love for those that I let into my heart. 

Some people naturally waltz into my heart effortlessly while others have had to fight their way in. 

There are three boys that danced in like it was always how it is now. 

Like a natural occurrence. 

Like how the sun rises every single morning. 

Coming in so late isn't easy. 

Any step parent will tell you that. 

Some days I go to sleep with less hair than when I woke up with that day. 

Some days...I go to bed smiling from the sweetest hug or "goodnight Britney". 

Sunday night, our oldest hugged my neck and told me he loved me for the first time since I made the transition here. 

My heart swelled with pure joy-a joy I can't remember ever feeling before. 

At that moment, my world tilted.

All of those moments where I felt broken or confused as to why I couldn't picture myself having a child of my own burst into a million fragments.

I imagine the way my spirit felt when I heard those words fall off tiny lips was how Edison felt when he saw the glow of light for the first time. 

I am most certainly still learning how to navigate the ship of parenting. 

God knew what He was doing long before I knew Him. 

He saw me with glazed eyes as other little girls sang "hear comes the bride" with a funny piece of toilet paper hovering over their face to attempt a veil. 

He saw before I did that I would one day step into this challenging, beautiful, rewarding role of a step parent. 

When people raise their eyebrows at me and ask, "so you think you're ready to be a mother to three boys?" I know they don't understand the dynamics of this whole step mom thing. 

I am Britney. 

To those three boys, I am Britney.

I'm not here to replace or to be their mother. 

I'm here to love them as hard as I can as Britney.

When they fall off their bike.

When they get their heart broken.

When they get a bad grade.

When they need a bandaid, a kiss on a scraped knee or just a pat on the head with my typical "Hey kiddo."

That's what I am. 

I will be their cheerleader.

I will guide them as far as I know to go.

I will protect them before protecting myself. 

I will sacrifice late nights with friends for sleep overs in the living room. 

I'm 100% human with a 100% chance of screwing up a few good times as I sail the seas of growth. 

I am constantly still trying to find my footing in this climb.

Every giggle, kiss on the cheek, hand holding I receive is a confirmation of where my heart belongs even on the days I can't seem to wrap my mind around the journey I'm on. 

I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I have ended up where I needed to be.