Thoughts on Being a Step Mom

I had never been a mother before I moved to the Caribbean and married Johnny. He had several children by several mothers, as is fairly common in the Caribbean culture. His youngest, Britnie, was 5 years old when we first met. I was so excited to finally meet this little girl, who was the apple of her father's eye. We approached the school yard in our rental vehicle and he spotted her immediately although she was cloaked by several other girls in their look-alike school uniforms and backpacks. She too, noticed him quickly and ran to the car.

He jumped out and hugged her little body right off the ground. It had been over a year since he'd seen her, as she lived with her mother. They held each other tight before he tucked her into the back seat of the car. I turned, and introduced myself as her father's fiancé. Suddenly I felt like a wicked-step-mom and wanted to do everything in my power to keep from winning that title. She looked leery and kept quiet. She was shy. Children in my area of the island always stare and look at my white skin, blonde hair and blue eyes in amazement. Many shout to me, "femme blanc, femme blanc!" Which means 'white lady', in their local French Patois dialect. I'm sure it was a bit of a shock to her little 5 year old mind that Daddy shows up out of the blue with a white lady that he intends to marry.

We didn't stop at her mother's house when we passed; Johnny kept driving just to spend a few minutes with his baby girl. Finally, as she gazed up at the sky from her backseat window, Britnie spoke. "Daddy, why does the rainbow follow me home from school sometimes?" I smiled from ear to ear, how precious. I just wanted to jump in the backseat and hold her. Johnny smiled too and responded," No, goo goo, the rainbow streaks across the sky but it won't follow you."

"Oh, but it always seems to be there, "she responded, a little more talkative now that the initial shock had worn off.

Johnny told her, "well that's because you are special, baby."

He pulled up to the little shop near her home and gave me some money. "Take her in for some treats."

I opened her car door and held my hand out to her. She slipped her tiny brown hand in mine and looked up with a smile. I had fallen in love. She stole my heart as soon as she said that line about the rainbow!

The more time I spend with this creative little angel, the more time with her I crave. She is 8 years old now and together we look out the window of our cottage and watch the rainbow as it settles over the mountain top where her Daddy and I married.