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As moms we pride ourselves that our children run to us first for love and comfort. So you'd think it would feel painful to have my child choose someone else over me. Not so. In fact, second best never felt so good.

Several years ago I married Adam, a kind man with two kids on the verge of becoming teenagers. It took some time, but eventually we blended our lives together and formed a new family. We settled into a polite and increasingly comfortable rhythm with the kids—one week with us, one week with their mom. However, our rhythm was dramatically changed when their father and I announced we were going to have a baby.

After Leanna, age 13, heard the "good news," she ran screaming out of the house. The tears streaming down her cheeks could not drown out the turmoil raging inside her. Her brother Randy, age 12, followed his sister's cue and made a beeline for the backyard. His howls of anguish filled the air as he overturned garbage cans and reduced the rose garden to a heap of battered petals. They hadn't accepted the end of their parents' marriage, so they were unable to share in the joy of the new life stirring inside me.

Time didn't heal this wound. During my entire pregnancy, tension and anger hung in the air like toxic fumes. The kids were dishearteningly persistent in their rebellion against our growing family. I should have been glowing with the excitement of my first pregnancy; instead I talked about it in hushed tones. My anger and frustration began to match that of my stepkids. The hard-fought harmony in our home was shattered.

Then, Katie was born. She stole my heart the moment I saw her. Her tufts of curly red hair and tiny porcelain features captivated everyone, everyone except her older siblings. They kept a wary distance, determined not to let her break through the thick walls of hurt, confusion and defiance they had so carefully built around themselves. Even the drugs from the epidural didn't deaden the pain of seeing Leanna and Randy look at their 30-minute-old sister like she was an unwelcome intruder. They stood as far away from her as the tiny delivery room would allow. Fortunately it wasn't long before their curiosity got the best of them.

Leanna was the first to succumb to Katie's charms. Within days she could no longer resist the cooing and warmth of her helpless little sister. Hesitantly at first and then with more confidence, she held Katie, who accepted her without question. When Leanna came home from school, she'd seek Katie first.

However, Randy was another story. He flatly refused to acknowledge Katie's existence. For months, he wouldn't hold her or even look at her. If the conversation lingered too long on Katie's latest achievement, he left the room. His anger and sense of betrayal blinded him to the joy waiting for him in the laughter of his little sister.

Finally Adam stepped in and insisted that Randy interact with Katie. Like icicles in the spring, Randy slowly warmed to the task of holding her. He cradled her like a piece of fine china, worried that she would break. Then, I noticed him smiling down at her in his arms, making faces to entice his little sister to giggle and squirm with delight. Soon he also looked for Katie when he returned home from school. They'd laugh and wrestle and play on the floor together.

Today my dear little Katie only has to hear the voice of Leanna or Randy, and she stops all activity until she captures them in her sights. She runs or makes Mommy "giddy-up" until she is face-to-face with her siblings. Arms outstretched, squealing excitedly, face beaming, she wriggles until she is happily in the arms of her older brother or sister. They're just as excited to see her and their younger brother, James.

It has been a long journey to this precious place where love rules. A place where, when big sister or big brother returns home, they are priority one, and Mom is second best. I smile as I watch at the kids playing together. Second best never felt so good. M

Barb Christing lives with her husband and four kids (ages 2 to 18) in La Mirada, California. She's refocused her 15-year writing career from global environment topics to the family environment. She attends MOPS at Whittier Area Community Church and is on the Steering Team.

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