Where are you?

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about my location. I don't mean my literal location but rather my metaphorical place in life. My current landscape is a bit of a contradiction. On one hand, it's vastly different from where I imagined I'd be a few years ago. On the other hand, being a wife, mother, and high school teacher sums up the traditional future I was destined to hold. It kind of seems like the universe has a way of correcting your path. Like how they say we make plans and God laughs? It ended up not mattering where I thought I'd be because I ended up here anyway. The only thing that worries me is that I might let here define me. There's still a soul inside of me itching to be bigger, a me that's full of wanderlust and curiosity and dreams that cross oceans and cultures and titles like mom or wife or teacher.  

This morning I sat over coffee for two hours catching up with an old friend. He and I connected in high school and college over writing and films and a sense that we were meant to be friends somehow. We live thousands of miles apart now, and lead two strikingly different lives, but that connection has not faded. He was in awe a little bit over the fact that I have a baby and a "real life," but in his next breath, however, he'd correct himself and say that it makes perfect sense. I like to think that when you live in the life you have, really settle in and become your true self, you bring a sense of peace. Friends have said that I'm surprisingly relaxed for a first-time mom, but I think it's because I've begun to embody this role. I no longer feel like I'm playacting as a wife and mother. I AM those things. Being a mom has become as much a part of me as being a blonde, as breathing or thinking or loving. I am where I'm supposed to be.

Where my terrain becomes uneven is with Norah. The ground of step-parenting is rocky and challenging and, to be honest, sometimes scary. I don't feel the same natural inclinations as I do with Levi. I question many of my decisions and reactions because there's another party to consider--Norah's mother. I don't want to step on any feet but yet the mama bear in me can't sit back and let things happen that she disagrees with. I want to fight for my husband's rights when he'd rather not rock the boat, and I want to insure that what's best for Norah is what's happening, regardless of which adult doesn't like it. Step-parenting can be tricky and unpleasant, and lately I've been filled with a lot of anger about the situation. I'm angry at how helpless I often feel (because, let's face it, as much as Zach treats me like his partner, the other side can discount me as "not real family" with a flippant remark and reduce me to an outsider). I'm angry that another woman will always be a part of my marriage, another woman that I don't always agree with when it comes to parenting but yet one I have to respect and work with for the benefit of our daughter. I'm angry that I've done everything I can to provide Norah with stability and structure and experiences and memories and yet that sometimes doesn't seem like enough. I know she's a child and doesn't do things on purpose, but when she'd rather be with her mother I can't help but take it personally sometimes. Mostly I'm angry at myself for how angry I am, for how much time and energy I let these worries and what ifs control. Where I am as a stepmom is atop a cliff made up of all my resentment and jealousy and fear, clinging to the edge with a sometimes tenuous grip, unsure if I should let go and just see what happens or hold on because the control freak in me thinks I can fix this.

I love my husband, and I love my step-daughter, but my position as a step-mother is not one I can say I always love. What I need to figure out now is where to go from here, and how to do so as gracefully as possible. That includes not taking out my anger on the five-year-old who's stuck in this situation as much as I am. Damnit, it's hard being an adult sometimes, but this wild life isn't one I'm giving up. If you've been there, either as a step-child or a step-parent, what can you tell me? I am open to as much advice as a girl can get, because right now, I feel like I'm failing.

Levi update: He can full-on crawl now. He is a speed demon, actually. He's also pulling himself up on any piece of furniture he can find, including unstable objects like the dog or a chair on wheels. We've had a few head bonks but he's a tough cookie. He's also got a tooth JUST UNDER the gums that's threatening to pop through any second. That means a lot of drool and snot and other fun side effects. He's as hilarious as ever, though, and such a good baby. He loves to sleep on his stomach with his head wedged into the corner of his crib and his butt up in the air. He will stop whatever he's doing if I start counting to 10, and if I say "hello" really loudly he will look at my expectantly. He tried chicken for the first time yesterday and seemed to dig it, and he really likes plums, raspberries, and strawberries.


Book update: Zach and I are flying to Denver next week, so I hope to pick up a new book or two on my Nook for the trip. I plan to reread To Kill a Mockingbird as I begin thinking about lesson plans, too. Any recommendations?