I don’t know about anyone else, but I spent a good portion of my childhood being pretty pissed off at Cinderella’s wicked stepmother.  I was convinced that this story meant all stepmothers must be wicked, and so whenever I heard about someone in my class in school having a stepmother, I always felt sorry for them.  Yes, I was probably no more than eight years old, but I think this mind-set is something all stepmothers have to contend with – that there is no way they could be nice or sweet, or anything other than wicked to their stepchild(ren).  So you can imagine my consternation, and complete internal meltdown, when I realized that marrying my fiancé, the love of my life, would also mean BECOMING A STEPMOTHER, myself.

Yeah, that wasn’t the greatest day.

Then I thought, I actually have it much better than a lot of stepmothers out there.  My future stepson was under two when I met him.  I have been in his life for pretty much as long as he will be able to remember.  So, maybe, just maybe, he won’t have the “you’re not my real mom” moments that you hear horror stories about.  I know I might be kidding myself on that one, but I have hope.

That said, the one thing that annoys me about being a stepmom, or a stepmom-to-be, has nothing to do with how I will be perceived by my stepchild.  What annoys me to no end is how I am being perceived by other parents.  Or, excuse me, other BIOLOGICAL parents.  It seems that to them, a stepmother has no idea about being a parent, or a mother, and is basically the second-class citizen of parents.  They fart in my general direction.

Well, who made them the kings and queens of parenthood, the supreme rulers of a land that is always uncharted territory if it’s your first time there?

While it is true that I did not carry my future stepson in my uterus for nine months and then push him out of regions that just should not have to stretch that much, ever, it is completely FALSE that I do not look at him as my own child, or care about him LESS because I didn’t give him life.  I change his diapers, comfort him when he gets upset or scared, make him meals, and make sure he is as comfortable as possible.  I give him baths.  I play his games and teach him to color and how to put puzzles together.  I kiss his boo-boos so that they get better.  My whole life and lifestyle change the moment my fiancé walks through the door with him every weekend.  Was this hard at first?  Yes.  Would I give any part of my new life up?  No way.

So it really grates on my last nerve when people act as though I could not possibly know anything about my (future) stepson.  Someone wants to know what size clothes he wears?  I’m OBVIOUSLY the wrong person to ask.  Someone wants to know if he’s allergic to foods, or medications?  Better get your fiancé on the phone, because clearly you are not qualified to know the answer to that question.  And GOD FORBID a parenting issue comes up.  My opinion is basically null and void, because EVERYONE must know better than I do, because after all, I have never had a child of my own.

It’s little wonder there are whole support networks now for stepmothers!  It’s hard enough to learn to be married and make that work, and then have a child immediately in the picture, and an ex, without also having the rest of the world telling you at every turn that you are basically not GOOD enough to be a parent yet.  This whole experience has given me so much more respect for the women I used to consider evil and wicked – the way they treated those kids as if they were their own is AMAZING, not evil.  The fairy tale really paints a nasty picture… although, I have thought fairy tales are designed to give women inaccurate world-views for some time now.

Here’s my point: stepmoms have it really tough already.  We’re blending two families.  We’re dealing with ex-WIVES, not ex-girlfriends.  Ex-wives don’t ever go away when a child is involved.  And believe it or not, we knew exactly what we were getting into before we made the commitment.  It annoys me when people try to say I didn’t know what I was getting into!  This is not me just playing my tiny violin.  But, it would be nice if instead of looking at us like we’re not quite as good as a REAL mom, people would look at us like moms, regardless of the biological link.

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