The Hazardous Curves of Stepparenting

"It's a lot easier to be a parent when you're not a parent!" my exasperated husband exclaimed one night 13 years ago. I was just beginning a new role in my new family -- the often questioned, seldom revered and generally underrated role of stepparent. And I was making Stepparent Mistake No. 1: trying to tell my partner how to parent. But while his words stuck with me, I never actually believed he was right.

I entered my marriage with two degrees and years of teaching experience. I was calm and controlled, yet bursting with the enthusiasm of a woman yearning to have children.

I started with an occasional observation: "You could bring markers and paper to the restaurant. It will keep them busy for a while," or, "I think if no one sits in the middle, it might stop just a few of the screaming matches." These offerings were adopted with grace and appreciation, something that wouldn't have happened had the shoe been on the other foot.

Buoyed by my initial successes, I started to share more. "Do you really think he should spend so much time playing video games?" I asked, after initially fighting to give my stepson his first gaming system. In another instance, I brazenly told my husband that if he followed through with consequences, the kids would do as they were told.

My statements became damnations that inevitably began with "When I have kids," and ending with edicts such as "There will be no organized activities until third grade!" or "No television ¦ ever!"

Bit by bit, I managed to forget my husband's statement and focus on the life we were creating together. I reveled in my role as stepmother and raged against stereotypes that suggested blended families were rife with "issues." My family thrived and I was grateful for every minute. And one year later, we were all thrilled when we learned our family would be growing.

When Josh was born, it was hard to believe a child was more wanted in the world. He had a built-in family of siblings who worshipped him from the moment of his birth. We settled into the next year building our life together ¦ until the night Stepparent Mistake No. 1 came back to haunt me.

Josh was sitting on the floor sobbing. In the midst of returning from daycare, making dinner, setting the table and

saying hello, I wasn't able to stop and read the book clutched in his little hand. "Sweetie, I just can't right now," I pleaded. "I just have to do this ¦ just be patient. Mommy needs to finish."

With one look into his eyes, I broke. "OK," I said. And just like that, I sat down on the floor to stop the flood of tears. Josh, knowing the score at the ripe old age of 18 months, beamed and cuddled up next to me.

"Are you sure you want to keep doing that?" my husband gingerly asked later that night. "You're setting up an awful lot of expectations."

"But he was so upset and I was at work all day and he needed me. I couldn't say no ¦ don't you get it?" I said, eyes filling with tears only another parent could understand.

My husband wrapped his arms around my shoulders and whispered in my ear, "I do get it ¦ it's just not as easy to be the parent when you are the parent, is it?"

In that crystalline moment, I learned my lesson.

In the 10 years since, I rarely assume to be a parent for my husband's children. I rarely give an opinion unless it's solicited. I refrain from casting judgment on parental decisions and I pray no one will cast judgment too harshly on mine.

My kids sometimes watch too much TV. My son participates in two different sports leagues and attends weekly baseball lessons. My daughter takes horseback riding lessons, having completed two years of T-ball and ballet. I have made many decisions and,

I'm sure, many mistakes. Thank goodness for my husband, a confident, secure man who rarely needs to say, "I told you so!" HL

Do you have a story you'd like to share? Send your essay to rhaynes@hearstmediact.com with "My Word" in the subject line.

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