Attachments

My mother has warned me that being a stepmother isn’t easy.

I’ve always thought that I knew what I was getting myself into.

What a bold and naive thought!

Since last night, Angela and Alex have been yearning for their mother. Tonight, I can see that it is progressing further. Usually, I’m the one that sleeps with them–I suspect the reason being that the kids are used to falling asleep next to their mother. Their only other choice than me being their dad, I think they’ve decided that I most closely resemble the mother figure. For the past two months or so, they seem to be doing fine with me as the “replacement”. I am quite hesitant of using that term. My step-mom philosophy is that I am not so much a mom replacement but more of a senior friend.
But as Mr. Worm says, technically, I am the replacement, whether I like to put it that way or not. I’m not sure how much I like that idea, neither am I sure how well my psyche is handling the lived truth of the matter.
Who am I kidding? I feel torn! On the one hand, I enjoy being the mother figure of the household: I enjoy dressing, feeding, showering the kids and putting them to sleep. I enjoy cleaning up the house and making sure everything is sanitised and safe for them to play in. And I feel rewarded when they run up to me at various times throughout the day giving me a big hug, asking for attention, and, ostensibly, seem to be attached to me. It really is as if I am the mom replacement, or better, I am their mom and they are my kids! And yet at the same time, I constantly remind myself that no matter how much they like me, no matter how much I like them and no matter how hard I try, the truth remains that I am not their mother and they are not my children.

And what better way to remind me of this unchangeable fact than the times when the children call out for their mother throughout the night, whining that they want mommy and they miss mommy. I have no hard feelings. I, myself, am also extremely attached to my mother, very possibly so much more than Alex and Angela are attached to theirs. I slept with my mom for the first thirteen years into my life. Naturally then, I can empathise when they miss theirs. I know that if it was me, there would be no way that anyone could take me away from my mother. It would be physically impossible! I simply wouldn’t allow it.

So tonight, I called for Mr. Worm to sleep with them. I figure that at times like these, dad is the best choice at making everything better.

Can I even begin to explain how horrible I feel inside?

Is it guilt? Remorseful because somehow I am (in)directly responsible for taking their mother away from them? Or sadness? Maybe even jealousy? Jealous because I can’t have my own children, and knowing that no matter how hard I try I cannot change the fact that they are not my children and never will be? Jealous because I have always wanted my own, could have had my own, but unfortunately chose to blow the opportunity away?

Then I ask myself: At this point in the game, what do I do? What’s my next move? Should I give up and call it game over? How can I bear to watch the kids call out for their mother? While they still talk to her on the phone and go visit her quite often in Taiwan (so far it’s been a few weeks every 2 months), of course they still miss her. I know how I would feel if I was their age in the same situation.
I suppose I ought to try to comfort myself by saying that they are still in transition. True, they have grown accustomed to me. But after all, they have only been with me for no more than three months, while they have known their mother for years. So they still need time to get used to the situation.

I don’t know what to do.

I know I am also in transition. For the most part, I’m dealing with it rather well. But when it comes to the kids it’s my weak spot.

I feel almost stunned.