I don't think I'm your usual mommy blogger. I'm not sure I qualify as a mommy blogger at all, anyway. My oldest child could have make me a grandma already (thank GOD he hasn't, but that's another story) and my youngest is no longer a "little" kid.
I've also been married three times now. That gives me one living ex-husband, one dead one (totally a story for another day) and a current wonderhubby. Gotta love a guy who takes on my emotional baggage AND my children's and still loves me and tells me so every day in actions and words. (All together now: "Awwwwww...")
So what am I? A woman with a hell of a lot of life experience, clearly. A woman with children old enough to fend for themselves. A woman whose "mommy" days are more behind her than ahead.
But last night, the MOMMY in me was out with a vengeance.
My profile says it: 3 sons, 1 daughter and a stepdaughter. So far, I've really only talked about my youngest son and the Roo-girl, 13 going on 20. But last night, it was the stepdaughter's turn to be my total focus. J-bear is 17, sometimes going on 12, but a lovelier, sweeter girl you never will meet.
Her mother ... well, not so much. I would describe her as cold, unfeeling and definitely NOT a candidate for mother of the year. The number of times she has promised and disappointed J-bear are legion. The number of times she has pulled her head out of the sand and actually SEEN her daughter and her needs: zero.
There are countless stories of how the mom has put herself ahead of J-bear, but I can see how this post is going to get out-of-hand-long if I repeat too many. Let's just say that J-bear lives full-time with us, after mama-san essentially said, "I can't handle this anymore," after a mildly traumatic experience when J was 12. (Her husband is military, and she has lived in the same state as us but still a plane-ride away. Now, for the first time since J-bear came to live with us, mom is a mere 45-minute drive from our house.)
So now, apparently J-bear's mom has breast cancer. Oh, Janet, you might think, how can you speak callously about a woman with a cancer diagnosis? Well, here's why:
Yesterday, the mom called the wonderhubby to tell him her story -- that she had already had a lumpectomy and was scheduled for a second biopsy this week. And that she planned to tell J-bear about her diagnosis that night.
ON THE PHONE.
Yes, she called her teenage daughter and told her she had cancer courtesy of AT&T. (And J-bear had just spent last weekend with her.)
It was a very brief phone conversation, after which she came into our room and sobbed her brains out. She is scared. Rightfully so.
So, I pulled her in between her father and me, with my arms around her. Her father patted her head, and I held her tight.
She needed her mommy. And I was the one who was there.