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Divorce is never easy, and even the most mature people go through hardship. One thing I know about my ex and I - we were definitely not the most mature people when we divorced nearly a quarter century ago. I'll spare you the sad, sad story because this essay is not about divorce.

It's about motherhood.

With divorce, one or both parties often go on to connect with new partners. If those connections get serious, sometimes a commitment is made, and if there are children involved from the previous marriage, this transforms the new partner into a step-parent.

That title conjures up all sorts of images in our society, such as evil fairy-tale stepmothers who make their poor abused stepdaughters clean ashes from the hearth and miss the prince's ball. Or something.

Blending a family is no small feat, let me tell you. I, myself, remarried a man who became an only occasionally evil stepfather to my children. But this essay is not about my second husband. Not at all.

It's about motherhood.

My ex-husband also found love after our divorce. Well, if we're being honest, it was slightly before our divorce, but I digress.

He and I were fairly young, in our 20s, when we divorced. His new girlfriend was even younger. She was 18. It's hard enough going through a divorce, but when your ex takes up with an 18-year-old hot chick when you are at your lowest low, it's even harder.

The first time I met Jenny, she wanted to be friends. We were at a party, and she followed me around trying to strike up a conversation. I wanted to call her mother and say, "Your daughter is in a place where there is alcohol and she is not of drinking age. Oh, and did you know her boyfriend is a divorced man with two children who refuses to go to prom with her?" But I didn't. This essay is not about my bitterness.

It's about motherhood.

Over the course of the ensuing months, I got my jabs in. I would say to my ex, "Our daughter is struggling with her algebra homework. Do you think your girlfriend could help?" Or maybe, "I'm looking for a new pediatrician. Who does your girlfriend go to?" I wasn't very nice sometimes. But this essay is not about my penchant for snark.

It's about motherhood.

Over time, we all stabilized emotionally, and I stopped with the mean comments. My daughters went to their dad's house regularly. Jenny was always there. Eventually, my ex married Jenny. My ex and Jenny had children of their own, and my daughters loved these new little siblings in their lives as much as the new little siblings I brought into the world in my second marriage.

Jenny and I have shared some important events in the lives of my daughters, of our daughters. We've been to school plays and band concerts and sporting events. To high school and college graduations. To two amazing, beautiful weddings. We've spent a night together in the hospital awaiting the arrival of our first grandbaby.

Where motherhood is concerned, Jenny is the yin to my yang. Where I am tough and efficient (a phone call with me will rarely go over four minutes or I'll start getting jittery), she is sensitive and empathetic. Phone calls with her can evidently go on forever. Where she is sentimental, I am pragmatic.

Our girls had the challenge of juggling two very different mothers, but hopefully it all balanced out in the end. It must have. Our daughters are pretty fabulous.

In the years following my divorce, Jenny took wonderful care of my girls, of our girls. She loved them and listened to them and talked to them and fed them and accommodated their schedules and needs when they were with her.

This essay is about that.

In this day and age, there are plenty of divorces, plenty of second marriages, plenty of step-parent stories that come a little too close to reinforcing the stereotype. But the story of a wonderful stepmother isn't a man-bites-dog anomaly. It happens quite frequently; it's just that we don't hear about it as often as we should.

Jenny isn't my BFF and probably never will be, but she is the best other-mother I could have hoped for for our daughters, and for that I will always be grateful.

This side of motherhood isn't celebrated as much as it should be, as much as it deserves to be.

This essay is about Jenny and all the Jennys out there who step into the role of mother with children who are not (yet) theirs, often when the children's biological parents don't make that journey very smooth for them. Their contributions do not go unnoticed and are much appreciated.

Thank you, Jenny.

And to all the "evil" stepmothers out there who do right by their stepchildren, Happy Mother's Day!

- Linda Doty

Linda Doty writes on Twitter as @LindaInDisguise, on her personal blog, Just Linda, and sometimes on her professional blog, Linda Doty Writes. Rumor has it, she even writes on bathroom walls. She's a St. Louis native, married for 29 years (sure, to two different men, but she wants full credit for time served). She has five daughters, ranging in age from 10 to 31, and one grandson with another grandchild on the way. Linda works as an astronaut for a large corporation (not really, but it's easier to say that than to try to explain what a VP of Sourcing Operations does). She writes and writes and waits to be discovered, but is secretly terrified it will be by a concerned mental health professional rather than a big-time publisher.