Vanessa Lachey - Life from Scratch: Family Traditions That Start with You

Justin Coit

My family is everything to me. My husband, Nick, and my three children, Camden, Brooklyn, and Phoenix, have filled my life with more love than I thought possibleand more messes than Id like to admit! My days, like for most families, are a nonstop juggling act of kid extracurriculars, working, whipping up a healthy (orlets be realquick) dinner, and the occasional but essential date night with my husband.

When I became a wife and then a mom, I remember continually seeking advice about how to handle the beautiful chaos that is life. I sought guidance from friends, siblings, and coworkers because I didnt have a mom by my side to pass down motherly wisdom. How should I handle an irate toddler while Im trying to bake the perfect chicken enchiladasall while holding on tightly to my sanity and even more tightly to my glass of wine?

Here are the facts. My mother disappeared from my life when I was nine years old. Long story short (which, by the way, is a phrase that drives Nick crazy, since I like to talk and my stories are rarely short): It was August of 1990, and the Gulf War was just beginning. My dad was on active duty in the air force, and my brother and I were living in Turkey with my mom and stepdad, who was also in the military. I guess its safe to say that my mom had a type. Anyway, one day I was in my fourth-grade classroom, and an announcement came over the loudspeaker asking us to drop to our knees and pray for our military. We were told we were getting evacuated back to the United States for safety while our military family members stayed behind. We boarded a cargo plane back to America.

Back in the US, my mom ended up on my dad and stepmoms doorstep. My dad was away serving our country, so my stepmom, Donna, answered the door, and my mom asked her to take care of me and my brother until she could get back on her feet. Donna agreed (I mean, what was she supposed to do?), and after that, my mom showed up once a week for the next couple of weeks to take me and my brother to lunch. By the third week, she was MIA.

There were no letters from my mom in the weeks that followed. No calls. My dad lived in fear that my mom would show up and take me and my brother back, since she had legal custody. Perhaps for this reason my stepmom kept her distance emotionally. But my mother never came back. I secretly lived in hope that one day shed show up and I would have that role model I always wanted. She did show up once, when I was in sixth grade, and she took me and my brother to see The Bodyguard, starring Whitney Houston. Going to that movie was the last time I would truly feel connected to her and loved by her. The main song from the film, I Will Always Love You, haunted me for years! When I started acting, in my twenties, and I needed to cry for a part, I would sing that song in my head.

My mom disappeared again until one day in 1998, right after I won Miss Teen USA. I was eighteen years old, and I was at my grandmothers house, in Florida, when the phone rang. After the very first Hello? I recognized my moms voice. I nearly dropped the phone in shock. The sound of her voice after all those years paralyzed me, and I could barely breathe. After some awkward greetings, she said she wanted to see me. Regardless of how nervous I was, she was my mom, so I agreed. I told her Id be in North Carolina later that summer and that we could meet then, since she was living near there. And that was that. We hung up, and I went back to being Miss Teen USA, with a future date to see a mother I had dreamed about being with for almost a decade.

Later that summer, the big day came, and there she was, standing at my hotel room door. As soon as I saw her I realized how terribly I had missed her (despite everything!), and I suddenly hoped that this was the beginning of a normal relationshipone in which I had a mom who would love me and answer all my questions about life, love, guys, fashion, our family history, secret recipes, her amazing jewelry. You know, typical mother-daughter stuff.

It didnt take long for me to realize that we wouldnt be sitting down for deep and meaningful life lessons anytime soon. She hadnt traveled to my hotel room to congratulate me. She wanted to know how much money I had won as Miss Teen USA. She asked if I had won a car.

I was crushed. It was everything I had feared, deep down. You might think Im crazy, but I did end up giving her money. I gave her pretty much everything Id won, because even at that age, I felt I would always regret not helping her out, and based on our history I knew it would be the last time I would ever see her. And it was. That was the end of my dream of having a perfect mom come back and save the dayand save me. I would have to be my own guide through life.

Eventually I pulled myself together, wiped away the tears, and got back to building a life. I vowed to make it special, make it my own. I came to realize that experiences like this wouldnt break me. I mean, I had already survived a lot. Like having to ask my dad how to use tampons. Talk about mortifying! And wearing a white dress to a friends wedding (because no one told me not to) and then being completely embarrassed when the caterers kept congratulating me because they thought I was the bride. I had to learn to cook on my own and discover ways to be a great parent despite not having had a loving mother who led by example.

Many of the women I look to, like Ayesha Curry, Reese Witherspoon, Kate Hudson, and Rashida Jones, do have a strong female presence in their lives. I admit I get a little jealous when I see Ayeshas mom making her bone broth when shes sick, Reeses mom passing down all her Southern secrets, Kates mom offering loving advice for her lasting, happy partnership, and Rashidas supportive relationship with her mom who is her biggest fan. But Im also happy for them, because its a beautiful thing. Some of my friends have moms who taught them how to sew homemade Halloween costumes or handed them a secret recipe book thats been in the family for generations, and I love hearing all of their stories and advice. What Ive learned is that none of us have picture-perfect pasts, and we are all truly making it up as we go along. But our messy pasts dont define our futures. They may influence them, but its up to us to make our lives just thatours. Perfectly imperfect.