My First Marriagebecoming A Stepmom Advice
My First Marriagebecoming A Stepmom Advice – When I met and married my husband, it was a blessing that he had two daughters from his first marriage. I love children. Children are like me. My mother is also a stepmother, and I am a stepdaughter and a stepdaughter. I have a TON of experience here.
Naturally It can be one of the most complex and confusing relationships because there is no clear pattern to follow.
My First Marriagebecoming A Stepmom Advice
The most recognizable archetype is the evil stepmother. From Cinderella to Snow White, every fairy tale seems to have this character: a cold, indifferent woman married to a man whose children are non-existent. At best, the stereotype of a stepmother is someone who doesn’t care much about children. At worst, he hates them and pushes them away with all his might. There are some inspiring expressions in popular culture (Julia Roberts
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The truth is, there are as many different ways to be a stepmom as there are ways to be a mother. The exact definition of a stepfamily is intentionally vague, I think—it can describe anything from a family where one parent has partial custody, joint legal custody, or full-time custody. Some stepfamilies include mixed biological children, while others only include children from previous relationships. Some stepmothers have stepmothers with them all the time and play a more fundamental role as caregivers, while others only see their stepchildren occasionally. Every family is different and every stepfamily is more unique because so many variables come into play.
When I got married to my husband, I got a family, at least some of the time. My stepdaughters were 2 and 4 years old. While my husband has joint legal custody with unlimited visitation, his ex-wife has primary physical custody. We ended up living in the same city and it was one of the best decisions we ever made. We would see them as often as possible, and on weekends they would play in the park or at our house.
I got pregnant almost immediately and gave birth to our first daughter. Since then we have added two more children. Which brings me to the first and most pressing question: How many children do I have? After almost 17 years together, I still struggle with this question. I had three children, but obviously there were five children in my family – five brothers and sisters.
But they have an active, involved mother, and I don’t want to take away from her role. And yet, they are my children – even though I did not give birth to them. They are “my girls” and that’s how I introduce them. At least some of the time. Because the truth is, they are not my children either, which means they already have a perfectly good mother and they live with her. I am not their mother. I didn’t take them to the doctor, or schedule playtime, or make sure they got their gloves in the morning. But I married their father and their brothers’ mother. I was a parent a lot of the time. I judged arguments, braided hair, kissed bunnies and turned them into my favorite dessert. I am their parent, not just their mother. I have five children in my family, although three of them only call me mom. See how confused he is? It’s complex and layered, and it’s one of those situations where there’s often no easy solution that works.
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My general philosophy is to treat my stepdaughters as I would want my own children to be treated. I try to respect their basic relationship with their mother, while at the same time working to strengthen their relationship with their father. Many of the choices my husband and I made as parents were made because it was his first responsibility. We joined the same church and sent our children to the same elementary school. We did everything we could to make sure all five of our children were family. There are no “half” siblings – they are one entity and exist.
All five of my children have fond memories of being together: making perfume from leaves, flowers and water; Chalking the sidewalks Racing around the country on tricycles They’ve clearly grown up. They spent hours together at the local science museum and went to the park with us every weekend. We had our own table at a local Chinese restaurant. We always have our Shabbat dinner together (or used to before they were all grown up and independent, but that’s another story). Family time in our house is noisy and messy, and there are rarely meals because no one else is angry.
I am incredibly lucky because my stepdaughters are amazing people, even though I believe I love them anyway. They are beautiful and smart and I can’t imagine our life without them. They are wonderful big sisters, supportive and encouraging of my elders, and embrace the identity of “Cohen Girls”. They focused on their younger brother and sister. One of them is majoring in writing in college, and I like to think he got it from me. One of them has curly hair like me and I like to take credit for loving her hair, the bigger the better.
They are a very big part of our family and I am very lucky to be in love with a man who has two wonderful children. Because none of this comes naturally to me, my two stepdaughters have added more to my life than they know. They raised me in Judaism and planned my daughter’s bat mitzvah party, they cried with us when my son was in the hospital, and provided support. Being a stepmom isn’t easy and it doesn’t always feel comfortable, but in the end I was right. My husband’s two daughters from his first marriage were an incredible asset. I once overheard two women in their 20s talking on the subway. One explained how she met a wonderful man – but he had two children. – Oh no! said his friend. “So you’re A
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His reaction confused me. We will never understand why our culture stereotypes the evil stepmother, suggesting that women only love their biological children. Even before I met my husband, Tony, I knew I wanted to meet a divorcee because he couldn’t hide his past, and I couldn’t hide my past because I was a memory – my steps were already exposed. Divorced people have experienced emotional pain, which gives them a depth that I’m drawn to. If they had kids, even better, because I’ve always enjoyed the challenge of bonding with kids who aren’t related to me by blood, and I love the perspective kids give to the world.
Now that I’m a legal stepmom, I can say that this plays an important role: you learn how to co-parent with your partner without the stress of a newborn getting in the way. When I met Tony’s daughter Louise, she was 6 and we hit it off. Now 9 years old, Louise stays with us three days a week during the school year and one week on and off in the summer. So the conversations Tony and I have about how to prioritize or manage tasks aren’t abstract or theoretical—they happen in real time.
As someone who fears shouldering most of the emotional labor in a marriage, it was exciting to meet a partner already trained in this type of work. Tony Jers wakes up when he hears a cough from Louise’s bed or when his feet stumble in the hall. He knows the dentist’s name and notices when he needs to trim his nails. She conditions, detangles and sprays her hair, she’s Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy. She does laundry every two weeks, but I let mine sit for a month. He’s the one who cleans the bathroom and makes more creative dinners than I do.
Over the years I have experienced the many small joys of being a mother, and raising a child from day one is not without its drawbacks. All of a sudden, I could use the words “I have to pick up my baby” and people would move their cars out of my way. Strangers smiled more at me on the street, waiters were nicer and gave us paint and stickers. Activities I never thought I’d do separately came into my life: hang gliding, jump rope, Marco Polo, Judy Bloom books, dyeing Easter eggs, trick or treating, and rewatching all five seasons of Brad Ball.
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Life is sweeter and richer without the sleepless nights of breastfeeding or my kids blaming me for bedtime rules or sugar restrictions. I will be
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