There is no doubt about it, I'm a very lucky lady. Exceptionally lucky. Extremely lucky.
I have four children. Three of which I carried, gave birth to and have loved and cared for since the day they were conceived. The fourth is a different story. He's not mine. I'm not his Mumma. Sometimes I question myself, what exactly am I trying to be?
Being a Step-Mother has had it's challenges. I'm not going to paint it a rosy-coloured hue because sometimes it has been difficult. Accepting someone else's child as your own has it's ups and downs......beautiful highs.....depressing lows.
Sometimes we fight. We get angry at each other. I sometimes have trouble understanding him and he sometimes has trouble understanding me. At times I sit and wonder, Am I doing this right? Am I completely stuffing this up? Do I actually have a clue?
Where is the guide for wicked Step-Mothers? Isn't there a step by step manual somewhere that God should have handed me when I met his Father?
This morning, I had a good look at this beautiful young man I have known and loved for over seven years. He is caring and well mannered. He looks out for his younger siblings. He is eager to please. He is a good boy....No, he is an exceptional boy. His intelligence radiates. His internal beauty shines.
His Mother & Father have defied the odds to help shape his remarkable personality together. They have been apart and yet, they have achieved this by working alongside each other, putting him first, setting aside any differences. I would really like to think that I have played a part too. I'm not his Mum. I'm not trying to be.
And I know, I know that despite the fact that he isn't 'mine', despite the fact that at times we're not always going to see eye to eye, I like to think that I have a special place in his life. He certainly has a special place in mine.
