The One in Mother's Day

You know how first time mom-to-be is before she goes to the hospital to give birth to her child: First, she makes sure that the house is ready for the baby's arrival. She checks the room, the crib, the pillows, the stairs, and everything. Then she makes certain that everything her new baby would need are packed in her hospital bag. Finally, the first time mom-to-be steps out of of the house, shuts the door behind her, and walks to her new life with fear, excitement, and doubt all rolled into one.

I was privileged to have the same experience over a year ago only mine is a little different. Okay MORE different. 

The day before I became a mother, I checked our apartment to make sure that everything was in place. But instead of a crib, I was checking on twin beds...hoping that the colors of the bed covers I chose match their taste. I also made sure that there was food in the house because I heard children get hungry all the time. Then for the last time I checked the weather in Los Angeles, CA. My phone app says it would be cold in L.A. so as an after-thought, I threw sweatshirts into our luggage: one 8-year old boy jacket and one girl's youth sweatshirt. When I felt like everything was in order, I followed my husband out of our front door, looking around one last time. "Are you ready?" my husband asked and somehow I knew he wasn't just asking whether I was ready to leave. "Are you?" I asked him back.

For many, motherhood begins in the womb. Mine began when I married my husband who already had two children (whom he was barely with for 13 years). As we stood waiting at the arrival area of Los Angeles International Airport, we shared the same feelings other first-time parents have: excitement and fear. Will they like staying with us? Will they like us? Will I like them? My husband at least is ahead of me in that sense--they are his children after all. 

Now let me tell you, being a stepparent is not easy (thanks Cinderella for putting the "wicked stepmother" stigma upon us). I've come to realize that there are a lot of gray areas in step parenting. I find myself in awkward situations (like that time we had dinner in a Vietnamese restaurant and this guy told me I don't look like my children) or I find myself having to explain our situation to people. It is difficult enough to be a stepmother but it is twice difficult being a Filipino stepmother. Stepparenting is still a taboo subject in our country that is widely conservative. So when I tell my newly found Filipino friends why my children call me "tita" (auntie), I see the unspoken words in their eyes. I hear beyond their "Ah okay" after I tell them that they're my husband's children but not technically mine. I know there are more questions that they want to ask but they don't ask so I don't explain. It's hard to explain our situation anyway. And that's only dealing with people outside our family. 

So how do you raise children you didn't give birth to? Unlike "real" mothers, I didn't have an umbilical cord that tied me to these children. They are separate from me. They were strangers when I first laid my eyes on them. I know I am not my stepchildren's mother but I don't want to be just their friend either. Should I be cool? Or stern? Who am I to these children? And most importantly, who do I become? 

I remember when we first enrolled my stepchildren to school. I was momentarily confused when I came upon the Parent/Guardian information section of the form. Should I put parent or guardian? I watched my husband write my name under "Mother's Name" on the form he was filling out. I was surprised (and relieved) that he didn't even falter. Didn't even pause to think about it.

Months later, my 10-year old stepson started coming home with tons of homework that he could't do by himself so I sat with him and taught him his multiplication table, drilled him in spelling, and quizzed him before a test. He'd go to bed without brushing his teeth and then complain of a toothache the next day. So I brought him to the dentist and trained him to brush his teeth at least twice a day. He loved sports and wasn't very excited about school. So we got him into a basketball camp and then bought him books which we read together at night whenever I wasn't busy (he now loves school and he is finishing 4th grade with honors). My stepson had the severe case of sibling rivalry so I tried to treat him as fairly as I treat his sister. Both gets to do chores, both are rewarded for hard work, and both are denied the privileges when they do wrong. 

My 14-year old stepdaughter is awkward. She feels fat and inferior than those gangly, anorexic K-pop singers she watch all the time. So I encourage her to treat herself kinder. She's smart and pretty. I don't tell her that her weight will not define her character instead I try to open her eyes to things more important like compassion, adventure, wisdom, and faith. I avoid telling her to lose weight because she's fat...she's miserable enough. Instead, I encourage her to walk, run, jump, be active...because you do life like that. I tell her she can depend on no one but God and herself so when opportunities are presented to her, she must grab them and hit the ground running. I tell her to seize life because life is short. At the end of this life, God will not put her on a weighing scale and check if her weight pass the mark or if her thigh has gaps. After my "sermon", I take her shopping, we paint our nails, or I show her how to put make-up on because you still want to look pretty when you run after all. 

And my husband. We'd lie down in bed at night and he'll complain of all these body aches from working long hours. He'll tell me about his frustrations, what he ate for lunch, and who got angry with whom. Then I remind him of the children's field trips, prom, dentist appointments, and basketball practice. He'd whine about the kids being too busy he can barely keep up with them. But he's the daddy. Wasn't time management supposed to be inherent in daddies? 

So, tell me. If I am not my husband's children's mother, who am I then?

Yesterday, while my stepson was getting ready for his field trip, he told me he was very excited for tomorrow. I asked him why and with an excited voice and twinkling eyes, he said because tomorrow is Mother's Day. "But you're not a mother," I pointed out to him.

"But you are!" he exclaimed. 

So to the stepmothers out there: Happy Mother's Day. You are doing a fine, fine job. Weird but most definitely fine. 

Slay, stepmothers!

My stepson did all these. He also bought me a magnet to add to my collection when he was out on his field trip in an aquarium in South Carolina. Later, my stepdaughter promised she'll do the day's chores. I'm totally cool with that. But while I was in the bathroom at Starbucks when we went there after church, she surprised me by getting me a new tumbler :) Blended family is not for everyone but I think it is safe to say that we are totally killing it!