What being a step-parent really means

Two years ago I was planning my move back to Las Vegas. I had no idea why I was always drawn to move back here, figuring it was simply because I had grown up in this crazy desert. I now know that the reason I always find my way back is because my family was here all along.

My boyfriend is 14 years older than me. It sounds like a lot, but when we are together we don't notice it. He and his ex-wife had a house a few minutes away from the house I grew up in. We went to the same grocery stores and drove the same streets every day. I wonder how many times we saw each other and never really noticed one another (what man thinks anything of a young girl or what girl thinks anything of a father?). When I moved out and had my own apartment in the Summerlin area, he was actually working at the bar of the restaurant my boyfriend at the time and I always went to. I wonder if he ever served me and I was too interested in Edward to see him. No matter what though, I know that God always had us crossing paths whether we knew it or not, because he meant for us to be together. So two years ago when I was thinking about coming back here, ready to give Vegas another shot even though there are so many things I hate about this town, I know it was because Dave was here and my life with him could only start here.

I had met Dave in October, we started seeing each other in December, and by March I was pregnant. When I met him I knew he had four children from previous relationships, one being a daughter just a few years younger than myself. The way he talked about his children just radiated the love he had for them and the love he had of being a father. I couldn't ask for a better man to be Kiera's dad as his children truly mean the world to him.

When I met the boys in December, I had no idea that one day I would love them so much. Kyle, Tyler, and Alex are the type of kids that anyone would like. They are adorable, polite, articulate, funny, charming, and just plain amazing boys. I couldn't ask for my daughter to have better big brothers than these three.

Dave and I are not married and have no plans on getting married at the moment, but those boys are my step-sons no matter what anyone says. When I became a mother, there were so many things that changed for me, things that I finally understood. I love my daughter so much it isn't funny. I love her dad so much I can't express it. If I could love the two of them, how could I not love his sons or her brothers? My family is not just Kiera and Dave, it is Dave and all of his children.

The thing about loving someone is that you have to love all of them, you can't pick and chose. You may not like certain aspects about someone, but you still have to love them. Children are a part of parents. If you chose to date a man or woman with kids, you make the conscious choice that if you are going to fall for them you are going to fall for their children as well. If you don't think you could love their children and want their children as part of your life and your family 24/7/365 than walk away before anyone gets hurt. As a parent you also have to make sure that you don't bring someone around your kids that you wouldn't want as part of your children's life day in and day out.

I look at my step-kids and they make me so happy and proud every day. I love getting to know them better and better. I love spending time with them and seeing them grow. I love doing things for them whether its a ride to the mall or making them a dinner they request. I love that they have a home with us where they can be themselves and have fun and enjoy life. I especially love to brag about them and talk about the amazing futures they are going to have. I wish I had been there when they were younger, but I am so happy that I get to be here now.

I met this man at work one night and he told me not to call them my step-kids because that would hurt them. I tried to explain that since Dave and I aren't married they technically aren't even my step-kids so it was meant to show them I love them as opposed to hurting them. He told me that he wished his step-dad had just called him his and not always referred to him as his step-son. I didn't understand what that man was saying at the time. It's only been a few months, but I think I get it more and more every day. The boys already have a mother and I would never in a million years try to replace her. That would be wrong to the boys and wrong to her. She and Dave raised three amazing kids so she obviously is a good mom and did something right raising them all. I'm at a point though where I can tell the boys are starting to see me as family, just like I see them as family. So when people tell me I shouldn't spend any of my money on them because they aren't mine or that I should sleep before work instead of hanging out with them because they are Dave's kids or that I shouldn't have bought a huge mom-mobile when I had a paid off car that fit my daughter just fine, I want to scream. These are my kids. I'm not their mom but they are my kids too. I would die for any of these boys, just like I would for Kiera. I want to give them every opportunity and happiness in life because I love them as if they were my own children. When I think of my future, I think of how every choice will make their lives better or worse.

So, as far as I can tell, being a step-mom means the same as being a mom. You don't go through the children's lives from day one and you don't have a say when it comes to the big decisions in their lives; but from the day you enter their lives you are there for the happy moments and the heartbreaks, the achievements and the failures. You don't complain that you have to drive them around or feed them or sacrifice sleep for them. Being a step-parent means you are part of a bigger picture, it means you have so much more to live for every day, it means your heart gets to grow to fit them all in.

I lucked out because the boys are great kids who stay out of trouble. I know that not everyone has it this easy. I also know that there will be times in the future where it will get hard and I'll ask myself why I put myself in this situation. I think the worst part of being a step-mom will be that if for some reason Dave and I aren't together anymore, it will crush my soul not having them in my life anymore. I'm tearing up now just thinking about it because it would really break my heart to lose them.

I'm sure by now, some of you have picked up on me not speaking about Cierra. Unfortunately, she does not live in Las Vegas so I haven't met her in person yet (last time she was here was when Dave and I had just started seeing each other and I was deathly sick). What I know about her though is just as amazing as what I see every day in her brothers. Cierra was so accepting when Dave told her about me, my age, and my pregnancy. Cierra reached out to me on facebook and has accepted me in her family with open arms. She is the kind of woman who has the biggest heart (like her daddy) and is so thoughtful (probably gets it from her mom). Cierra is the kind of person that I am in my heart but don't always act like. She's older so I feel weird calling her my step-daughter, but I'm sure if she was around she would be the kind of person I would call a best friend. I can't wait to meet her and her husband in September.

Learning to be a step-mom hasn't been easy for me. Trying to find my place in the family and how to talk to the kids and how to act around them was difficult. I don't always say or do the correct things, but I'm learning. I'm lucky that all of Dave's kids have been patient with me and put up with me. I look forward to learning more and being a better step-mom.

So, to all of the step-parents out there, I'm always here to trade stories and talk about the smiles and struggles of being a step. To everyone who doesn't think I should do what I do for the kids, I hope this may have opened your eyes a bit to how I feel and why I do what I do for them.

Comments and thoughts are always welcomed. And as always, don't forget to check out my business website at krissyanne.myitworks.com.

XOXO,
KABO