“They need you,” he told me. The man I was starting to fall in love with looked at me intently over a couple of plates of the best pasta in town. “They need a mom.”
“But they have mom,” I protested, curiously.
“They need a mom who invests in them in a loving, nurturing way. They’ll adore you.”
Those were the words we often exchanged over romantic dinners and long walks holding hands, with the freedom and hope of our future before us.
That was before we got married.
And then…once the vows were exchanged and we were living under one roof, we faced the reality of what raising kids together really looked like.
See, the thing is, I did a lot of loving and nurturing. But I also felt that loving and nurturing was only a part of the motherhood package deal. So was providing structure and expectations, I believed, and implementing the occasional consequences when necessary.
After all, I loved my new family, but the way my husband and his two kids were used to living and doing things didn’t always match my idea of how a respectful family home looked like. Didn’t I have the right to an opinion?
Yet, when I set out to implement my ideas — and the kids weren’t on board — it often put a big fat wedge in our marriage. That would lead me to feel resentful, as in I was allowed to take care of the kids and sacrifice for them, but not truly raise them? As a result, I got into patterns of being frustrated and critical.
It all came to a head after one particularly tense argument my husband and I had been having about the way my stepson had been acting.
We both sat on the bed, exhausted from the argument. I felt frustrated and devalued at how my husband wasn’t backing me up. He felt frustrated that I was so angry with his son.
My husband sat on the edge of the bed, eyes cast down to the floor, and then with a look of defeat he turned to me.
“He’s like me; he just wants to be loved.”
And then I finally saw it: I saw what my husband needed from me.
Despite what we had both perhaps idealistically imagined before our wedding, he realized that his kids didn’t need another mom in the biological-mom role sense of the word.
True, we were raising his two kids full time and I did need to be invested in a real and active way, and have a voice in my home. But even in our situation where bio mom lived far away — I could never *truly* replace her.
They did need me; we all knew it. We just had to figure out how to create boundaries that worked for us all. And I needed my husband to validate my role in our family so I didn’t feel resentful.
So if I wasn’t literally “mom,” what role did I have?
I could be a helper. I could help my husband find solutions to his parenting conundrums and guide him to the truth, offering as much wisdom and prayers as I could.
I could be a partner. I could stand by his side, cheering him on and encouraging him to be the man and father God had called him to be.
I could be pleasant. I could make a point to be warm spirited at home, watching my tone of voice and my facial expressions. I could work on having fun and developing the friendship with my husband.
I could be an advocate for my family. I could lead my stepkids toward Jesus, teach them right from wrong, challenge them, and yes, discipline when appropriate.
But all of this all had to be done out of relationship with my stepkids and out of respect for my husband.
I admit: This was hard for the control freak in me! Sometimes I had to literally bite my tongue. Sometimes I had to walk away. Yet, I didn’t become a doormat or a pushover, either.
The opposite is true.
I commanded respect because I showed respect. I chose to set expectations and then not engage in negotiations or arguing with my stepson. (This mostly worked, but hey, I’m human!)
And my husband? Once he saw me slowing down with my reactions and frustrations, he learned he needed to step up and handle issues. He valued my new self restraint, and for the first time, I genuinely started to feel him validating me and backing me up.
Of course, over the years, I’d mess up and engage before letting my husband handle things, and my husband would mess up and not back me up. And then we had to hash it out.
But with a common goal of fighting for our family, we could learn from those roadblocks and grow stronger because of them.
So with my role looking different than we had both expected, did my stepkids *actually* need me?
Yes—and they’ll tell you that.
Why? Because every kid needs a grownup who believes in them. Every kid treasures a grownup who truly listens to them and cares.
Every kid benefits from extra love being sprinkled on their life.
And that’s why your stepchild needs you.
Even though my stepkids do call me “mom” and it makes me happy, I have to remember that I have to be cautious in not overstepping on issues that my husband needs to handle for all of our health and sanity.
The whole “mom-title” thing? That’s more important to us than to kids, anyway.
They just want to feel loved, regardless of what they call us.
If you’ve ever felt like you have to be the perfect stepmom, click HERE!
