Let me start by introducing my family. We consist of four (as of now). There is my husband who is a very God fearing, loving man. He is a hard worker, loves sports, church and family. My husband is also divorced and about 14 years older than me. In our marriage he brought along his two sweet & sometimes sassy children. His daughter is now 6. She absolutely loves being girly. She also somehow manages to be sassy as all get out and the sweetest cutie-patootie all at the same time (I don't know how she does it). His son is 8. He is a great mixture of BOY (we all know boys should have their own category) & sweetheart. He is my little love bug.... & then there is me. Sassy, much younger than my husband and brought no kids into our marriage. However, I have my own set of baggage that we can unpack another day.
With our family dynamics also comes the children's mother & her boyfriend. My husband's family. My family. & Our church family. Which in short, provides LOTS of people with LOTS of opinions.
While the kids live with their mom and come to stay with us every other weekend and on various weekdays. In all the chaos, it can get messy and I am sure confusing for the kids. We are all sometimes unaware or unintentionally pulling at them to love us, choose our home, desire our desires, be like us, believe our beliefs etc.
There is no particular protocol for how we are all to treat
each other. We are ex-family, new family, steps, formers, siblings, parents,
children and the entirely uncategorizable. There is also a lot of animosity on
all sides. And who, in their right mind, wants to wade through any of it? There
is subterranean envy to navigate, undigested anger, history, proprietary
presumptions. I would like things to be easier between all of us. And I
understand the reasons they are not. I try to be gentle in my ways. I try to
keep the children in mind. Sometimes I succeed. I wonder what we are teaching
all of them, from the biggest to the smallest lessons. It’s mind-boggling.
I pride myself on being a reasonable and usually wise
person. I am often intoxicated by my own capacity for empathy, for courage and
magnanimity. I love being large. But I am too angry, at times, to reach out. I
am too snide. In an ideal world, we all get along — there is depth,
forgiveness, best intentions, honor. We are compatible and fair, we support and
agree, we are selfless and generous. The children don’t need two birthday
parties because we can all celebrate the same child together, all host the same
party, all raise the whole child. It seems like such a modest wish.
I, a woman who longs for a conclusion, a hopeful, wise spin,
have no conclusion for this. I have no witty lines, no summation, no false cheer. All I have is a sense
of vertigo and some resilience, a desire to love my children and tamp my
personal smallness, to swallow my colossal guilt, to atone, to extend again, to
always extend and to try to love my children more than I love my own fury or
jealousy or politics or righteousness. To love them more than I love myself.
It’s the most basic definition of raising a child. It sounds easier than it is.
This situation is tough! I never in a million years thought I'd be a young mother let alone a young second-mom. My husband and I have agreed to try to NEVER put the kids in a position where they have to choose one family over the other. At times being a step-mother goes unseen & often there are no rewards. But the moments when the kids run through the doors and ask to speak with me so they can tell me all about their day or when they get hurt and they don't want dad, instead they come crying to me for comfort or when they call me from school to ask if I can chaperon a last minute field trip & I am able to hear to pure joy in their voice when I say "yes"... Those are the moments that make the mess, hardships, chaos, and at times overwhelming stress seem not so awful after-all. Those are the moments that make it all worth it.
Brianna Nicole
