We all know by now that being a mother is a difficult, mostly thankless task.

There are many mothers out there who dedicate their very existence to getting all those maternal things right: from the basics of keeping a home to preparing meals to helping with homework, right up to the deeper tasks of attempting to raise emotionally healthy children who will grow up to be productive, responsible members of society.

Some mothers seem to come by this naturally. They are blessed with patience and fortitude beyond what most of us are capable of when it comes to devoting our lives to tiny individuals who rely on us for everything.

Some mothers find their maternal compass to be just slightly off-center. They know without a doubt that they'd give their life in order to protect their child from harm, but when it comes to the simpler things such as preparing a meal or reminding little Johnny to brush his teeth, they realize that they are lacking in the necessary skills that most people expect of a mom.

My sister, though she has no children yet to speak of other than her two Schnauzers, would most likely fall into the first group.

I, who have given birth to three wonderful sons, would most likely be lumped into the second.

This is not about a comparison of my sister and me, or good vs. bad. It's more of an observation of how each of us has responded to the parenting (or lack thereof) which we received from our own mother. And in turn, I suppose that translates upwards into the kind of parenting our grandmother offered.

I think most of us as children had moments when a parent did or said something that displeased us, and we promised ourselves that when we were parents, we would never do the same.

And most of us who become parents find to our horror that we are behaving or speaking in ways that seem frighteningly familiar to us.

It takes an incredible amount of awareness and inner strength to overcome patterns that you didn't even realize were forming.

And an incredible amount of courage to admit that, perhaps, you of all people were not cut out to be a mother - especially when you've managed to fake it for almost twenty years.

  

I could have hung in there and tried to maintain the illusion for another eight years. I could have refused to give up custody of my children, despite knowing that The Ex was in a better position than me to raise our sons. I could have fought tooth and nail to prevent another woman from taking on the role of mother in my children's lives.

I chose not to do any of those things, and perhaps all for very selfish reasons.

I knew there was danger in my decision. I'd lose that daily involvement with my sons. I'd have to be patient when my children inadvertently called me by another woman's name, out of habit from addressing her more often that me. I'd have to be supportive of The Ex's parenting, even when I disagreed with his methods.

It hasn't always been easy to deal with these issues, and now they are sure to be more complicated as time goes by and The Live-In (soon to be officially The Stepmom) starts to resent me more and more for something I believe she encouraged in the first place.

I almost feel sorry for The Ex. Whereas once he was just forced to deal with one woman who could be difficult (me), now he is firmly stuck between two. He is not one for confrontation, yet he finds himself now having to confront at least one of us in an effort to avoid confronting the other.

He confessed to me that sometimes he has to tell little white lies to her in order to mitigate the possibility of an argument. I can only offer my point of view that when telling untruths becomes the only option, then that says very little about the quality of the relationship you have.

I know it's not my place to worry about his love life. But it is hard not to worry about someone who you've cared about for most of your adult life, even if it's someone who you aren't in love with - someone who betrayed your marriage by going outside of it, and then divorced you to be with that person.

I don't think many people would understand my feelings for The Ex. I don't completely understand them myself. I know without a doubt that I do not want a marital or romantic or sexual relationship with him. Yet I find myself protective of him in a way that is only reserved for the people I care about the most.

It seems that not only am I an oddball when it comes to being a mother, but I am also a strange sort of ex-wife as well.

Eh...I always knew I was special. =)