Our Secret Sauce, His Recipe - Let Her Be The Momma Bear

Our Secret Sauce, His Recipe - Let Her Be the Momma Bear

I WAS A promotional bride.

The deal that month was “buy one; get a family for free.” Steve, a confirmed bachelor, not only got a new bride but two children as part of the wedded bliss package—an eight-year-old boy with some pretty big challenges and an eleven-year-old daughter entering puberty. I’m sure he wondered, more than once, What happened to my nice, quiet, predictable life?

Steve was considered the “new boy” in our family—and my two kiddos did not cut him any slack right away! But Steve was patient in his role and understood something that many men never grasp: Steve realized much quicker than most husbands do that motherhood is not merely a role women play; for some of us it provides a 24-7 gut-wrenching, heart-splitting, pull-your-hair-out kind of joy.

Over the years Steve worked closely with me to learn what made the kids tick, and we almost always agreed on the best approach to discipline, action, motivation, and—when required from time to time—the best means of bribery. Then big trouble came our way. Before Steve and I married, I had adopted Scott. By the time he was two and a half, it was obvious that he had begun to develop several alarming personality traits. When he turned twenty, he was a nonfunctioning drug addict.

For years I worked to protect Scott. All along Steve partnered with and supported me in this heartbreaking journey. He never told me it was time to throw in the towel or asked Scott to leave. Instead, Steve allowed me to “help” (you could say “enable” at some point) Scott until I came to the conclusion, via Al-Anon, that it was time to let our son go. It was not until that very day, sitting in the parking lot after our first Al-Anon meeting, that Steve told me that for the past few years he had been waiting patiently for me to come to this realization. When I asked him how he kept quiet for so many years, he said, “I know better than to get between a momma bear and her cub.” Steve knew that I more than loved my children; he understood from the get-go that I’m in love with them.

I know it doesn’t seem fair, but there are times when a mother has to be momma bear and do all she can to care for or save her baby. She has to figure out on her own when to let go—her husband can’t tell her.

But those who won’t care for their relatives, especially those in their own household, have denied the true faith. Such people are worse than unbelievers. (1 Timothy 5:8)

Today, our marriage is just about us—not the kids. They’re grown and gone. But because of Steve and his patience, I have complete peace; I can say I know I did everything I could do, was supposed to do, and wanted to do for Scott, because Steve allowed me to be the momma bear.

Gggrrrwww.