by Ceinna Childers

Created on: June 19, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

I have a lot to say about being a stepmother and blending a family. I could give advice all day long and tell wild stories about the process my family went through. I could talk about stereotypes and co-parenting and family dynamics. But this isn't the right time or place for those things. This is my opportunity to share my own personal testimony about being a stepmother. It's a story I'm honored and very happy to tell you.

My step-mothering experience is like a dream come true, a make believe fairy tale to counter the Cinderella story, and I still pinch myself every now and then to prove it's real.

My husband brought two children into our relationship and I brought along four. His two and my oldest two were either entering or in the middle of adolescence. That alone is enough to give a woman nightmares. Add the fact that all happen to be male and at that stage of life when testosterone is wreaking untold havoc and you'll see how scary a proposition this was.

Much to my amazement, all six of these very different kids were in total agreement about the prospect of us becoming a family. They were all for it! My kids were in complete favor of my choice for their stepfather. And his kids were actually eager for me to be their new mother. So much so that they started calling me mom before we even walked down the aisle. No one asked them to, and I certainly didn't expect it. But one day, all of a sudden, they just popped up and called me Mom. They haven't called me anything else since.

Now don't let all the good stuff fool you. We did have our share of challenges and disagreements. Those kids got on my nerves at times. In fact, they infuriated me on occasion. All six of them did. So when disciplining my step-kids I would stop and ask myself what I would do if it were one of my children instead. If I realized I would be more lenient with one of mine, I changed my position. Likewise if I realized I would be more strict with one of mine. I did everything in my power to be fair and treat my stepsons as my own even before the bond had formed. They learned to respect me because I treated them with dignity and respect. An unbreakable bond of love grew out of that mutual respect we established from the start.

As we grew as a family we did all the normal things. I treated them each as individuals. I encouraged their various interests. I went to school functions, sporting events, knew their friends, opened our home, listened when they talked, was sensitive to their moods, provided for their needs, helped them with their problems, and kept them on the straight and narrow even when neither of us was too happy about it.

Most of the kids are grown up and living on their own now. They're young men who make their mother proud. The closeness we share is unlike anything I could have imagined. They tell me things no son tells his mother. They confide in me. They call me for advice. They are loyal to a fault. They spoil me rotten. If anyone (including their dad) hurt me, they wouldn't stand for it.

I know people say this all the time and don't mean it, but I do mean it when I say I couldn't love them more if I'd given birth to them. They are my children. I am their mother. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

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