I never knew I’d be a mother of three at 27.
And I guess –technically–I’m not. My fiancé has three sons from a previous relationship who came to live with us full-time this summer. So, practically overnight, I became a mother figure to three kids.
I must admit I have no clue what I’m doing.
It’s not as though I’ve never been around kids before. I worked at a day care for a while in college and I’ve babysat a number of times. But I’ve never been responsible for another human being’s life 24 hours a day. Certainly not three very energetic male human beings.
I’ve never had to go to parent-teacher conferences (as a parent anyway). Nor have I had to pick a sick child up from school or line up after school care. I’ve never had someone call me Mommy. Now all of those things have happened and I’m not sure how to feel about it.
Part of me is thrilled. I love seeing what they learn each day at school. I love helping with reading (something I’ve always loved to do) and playing games with them. Watching them interact with their father is heart-warming. Sometimes they can be so adorably hilarious I can’t stand it.
But still, part of me is adjusting to how different life with kids is. As someone who’s spent the majority of her life just taking care of herself, learning to take care of someone else (especially three someones who need constant supervision) has been hard for me. I miss my Saturdays, my “me time,” when I could wake up when I felt like it and do what I wanted all day long.
I worry that I’m not doing it right. That I’m too strict on them. That they aren’t where they should be in terms of school. I worry that I’m not providing a good example for them or setting them up to be successful adults.
But overall I think I’m doing okay, that WE are doing okay. I may not be their biological mom, but I think they are starting to see me as someone they can count on. We aren’t a traditional family, but we are a family nonetheless.