Eight years ago, I stole Prince Charming from another gal.
He had been her knight in shining armor exclusively for a long time and the only person she could count on for unconditional love and support in her entire life.
I told her we could share, but I don't think she bought it.
She worried first that I would hurt him and then if I would hurt her... and that's a lot of weight to carry on a very small, 11-year-old frame.
My stepdaughter, Jennine, is everything I am not. She is small, quiet, careful and brooding. She is an artist who sees a graphic, detailed world. I'm a writer of broad strokes and metaphors. She is neat and orderly, I.... well, you get the picture. At times we both wondered from which species the other derived.
I tried to nuture, and fell back on the nature argument when I failed. I ignorantly, instantly expected from her the bond I'd forged over years with my natural daughter and pushed back in hurt when it didn't happen.
For too long, it seemed the only thing we shared was a love for her father and a desire to make him happy by getting along.
The hardest gulf for me to cross was her frustration with and general disinterest in school. At her age I loved learning. She loves doing.
Her first four semesters have meant two different colleges and two majors. Her grades were poor, her motivation minimal. We begged. We pleaded. We punished. We had endless family discussions at the kitchen table with her father which ended with one or more of us in tears.
Jennine came back home to go to school last fall and she carries a full work schedule at a shop. She and I started scheduling regular lunches at the local Subway for the twofold purpose of staying in touch and making sure she was getting something to eat.
Last semester she traded the pursuit of a four-year-degree in Art for a two-year degree in Medical Office... paid for her own books and got serious about her studies.
I watched through the semester as she covered the dining room table with homework notes and turned down invitations from friends. Not that she became a bookworm or a recluse, but her mid-term grades showed her concentrated efforts.
The last year has brought a great deal of challenge and pain to our family. Instead of withdrawing, Jennine drew closer to us, opened up her life and provided support to both her parents.
Seeing that she could and would "win" at school, her father and I agreed that if she wanted to take time off after this semester we'd agree. She'd shown us she had the maturity to succeed at school, whether she really wanted or needed any kind of degree was up to her.
When a friend of ours offered to help her get a job in Los Angeles, Jennine said it was something she'd dreamed of all her life.
With her sister away at school, we made plans for the three of us to go to California next month. She's almost 20 years old and has proven herself to be hardworking, loyal, sweet and dependable. We had no qualms about supporting her decision.
Shy, quiet Jennine... who previously flat refused to wear an elf suit to help out her father's Santa Claus gigs... took center stage in the Easter Bunny costume for our egg hunt this year.
The other parents at the hunt were justifiably proud of their adorable little ones, but no one there was prouder of their child than I.
She's always been extremely pretty, but she is becoming beautiful. She has a smile that will make the others in Hollywood feel second rate.
Her classes are winding down this week. The final project and assignment grades are coming in each day with results so good even Jennine is sometimes surprised.
She came home from History class this morning telling me about another killer grade as I got things ready for a Subway run. As we were leaving, Jennine said she was thinking about changing her major. We took separate cars, as she was going on to work and time was getting short.
The discussion continued over sandwiches.
She laughed and said she could still change her mind when she got to California, but for the first time she has a clear picture of what she wants to do.
She really enjoys working with numbers, she said, and wants to go on and get her four-year Accounting degree. She's even figured out how she can get it done locally while staying with us.
We cut the time close and she had to run as soon as her sandwich was finished.
I smiled and watched every male eye in the store watch her as she headed out.
"Love you, Mom" she called back over her shoulder as she got to the door.
Love you, Jen.




Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs