I had an amazing mother.
She could do all of those must-know mommy things, like pull a three course meal from a can of corn.
She could use that strange machine...what was it again?
Oh um, I can't remember.
You use it to sew stuff.
She was like the tear-wiping, bed time story-reading, lullaby singing goddess.
Luckily my sister snagged that craft-loving, cooking, baking gene because this girl lost it along with all the other things like matching socks and how to tease your hair.
Give me a puppy, I'm set for days.
Hand me a crying child, I will look at you like I just saw my life flash before my eyes.
So pretty much, I'm a "Pinterest fail," but in human form.
Now now, I'm not downing myself.
I think I'm pretty great, but...not a typical "mommy."
First: I'm a bonus momma; like those extra points you get that save your arse on a quiz.
Kind of.
I don't know nursery rhymes.
I don't do spit up or snot.
I have to consciously make myself laugh at a kids' joke so that I don't appear to think that was one of the dumbest things I've just heard.
I'm really great at answering my stepsons' legitimate questions with sarcasm or blunt truth.
Example A:
"Britney, what happens to them bunji -jumping if that cord breaks?"
"Well kid, they die."
Not a very mommy answer, but I don't do well at the coddling bit.
I could fluff this blog up and say being a step mom isn't hard and we all just know what we are doing all the time, but that would be a lie.
We're winging it, just like you probably are.
But, I'm not just a step mom, I'm 24 and was also raised a lot like a dude.
My father, now one of my best friends, bless his heart, had no idea what to do with two girls.
Crying was stupid and unnecessary.
I learned to suck it up real fast and I figured out things like sucking your own thumb wouldn't last in the real world.
Now, I'm thankful my step kids are boys for this reason: I would break a girl.
Either that or she would end up like me...which isn't all that awful. Okay she would be a boss.
But anyway.
I make this face when people start crying around me, like I've just seen their guts exposed. Literally.
Before you go calling me heartless, hear me out.
I'm not a typical mom figure and when I first stepped into this role I was hopping around injured like I was constantly stepping on Legos.
Why?
Because I had no idea what I was doing or how I was supposed to act.
I spent the first six months thinking I was going to have to learn to say things like "aw, come here poor baby", spending my time buying mom jeans that make my butt look too long and chopping my hair into a bob.
That was funny and you know it. Get a sense of humor.
Finally, I asked myself: "what the hell are you thinking? That isn't you and it will never be you."
Not only were all these mom standards not imbedded in my personality, but that was OKAY.
Not only was this okay, but the boys didn't NEED me to be anything but what I was and they didn't NEED me to try to scrounge up random garbage to offer to them.
The boys needed me to be the classy, tacky, a little smart-assy girl I was to begin with.
They have a mother that loves them, kisses their foreheads and can do all of that mommy stuff that I understand as much of as my spanish professor's lectures.
So what did I have to offer?
What do I have to offer?
What do YOU have to offer, step momma?
How about yourself?
You might be the only parent with cut off tees and tattoos in the school orientation, but there is beauty in what you have to offer: DONT CHANGE.
Your kiddos most likely already have a great mommy in their life-don't think you have to be mommy.
For me, that's a huge load off.
Am I saying you won't have to discipline, help with homework, feed (even if it is tater tots), hug, love, protect your step kids with everything you possess?
Absolutely not, but you can do all those things as (fill in your name here).
I can offer my boys things a biological parent can't, just like the biological parent can offer things to them I never will be able to. Also a good lesson to chug and swallow right now.
I can offer my boys an "outside perspective," one not shadowed by rose colored glasses. I can tell them things I see in them that they might not want to admit is there and that mom and dad might not want to see. I can see those things and out of a desire to protect them from future destruction, point those things out without appearing to be a nagging parent (though I really am one). Trickery.
I can offer my boys a more open, modern, real world side to life. This may not always be the case for all step mothers, but I am a young mother, still navigating my way through faith, knowledge, wisdom, politics, etc. and still seeking more and more from life. I have not yet settled into a way of thinking, part of me hopes I never do. (Who can't use some more knowledge?)
I can offer my boys a safe place to have a voice. It's not foreign to all of us that (typically) mom and dad are not the ones we want to go to when we have a struggle, an opposite view, a hurt. Though a parent figure, I am a safe haven to approach and to voice to whatever they might be fearful of projecting elsewhere.
I can offer my boys a hell of a sense of humor. It might take some time for them to catch on to how great it is to chill out and know a good joke, but they will. Knock knock jokes just aren't funny. Stop lying to yourself. My mother may call me tacky, but that's really code for genius humor. Trust me.
I can offer my boys a look into what a woman CAN look like.
It can look like the kind that isn't afraid to speak her mind or enjoy a glass of wine with her dinner.
The kind of woman that has a presence that speaks for itself-no entrance announcement needed.
The kind of woman that knows that silence is powerful.
The kind of woman that knows she can do anything a man can and isn't afraid to prove it to them by lapping their butts in a race.
The kind of woman that works hard, works long.
Step mom, you have unique things to offer your kids. Don't keep stepping on Legos and beating yourself up because playing mommy isn't your forte.
Strap on your motorcycle helmet, let down your hair, paint, write, work, don't work, do whatever it is you do that defines you.
My boys will never see me trying to be what I'm not, that's a personal vow.
They may not see me knitting and baking like a DIY Pinterest board, but they will see me come in from running 26 miles of hills, plopping on the couch next to their ruffled hair...
Cracking a joke and hugging their neck just as hard as any other mother could.
Children don't know labels, only you do.
So what do you have to offer?
What are you going to STOP labeling yourself as and what are you going to START labeling yourself with?
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