Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Marriage is hard. Marriage is even harder when parenting two kids. Marriage is even harder than that when you are parenting one biological child and one stepchild. It's rewarding, but it is hard as f*ck.
Every decision you make is no longer yours alone. There are others involved. In my situation, there are A LOT of people involved. You cannot just pack up and move across the country and start a picture perfect life on the beaches of California or hell, even Hawaii with your husband and kids. You have lost your freedom to begin a family somewhere of your choice because there is a reason you have to now stay put. This is both a good thing and a bad thing. If you've lived your life and have done all those crazy, "I need my freedom" actions and decisions that twenty-something make, then you are ready to settle down and just be happy being where you are. But, if you still have that childish feeling of believing that you have the whole world at your fingertips and the possibilities are endless for you and your children, then it's going to be hard. And I find myself somewhere in the middle.
Getting married to a divorced man with a child was easy. I understood it. I was happy with it. I was fine with everything that we had going. I understood that (as a child of divorce myself), there would have to always be compromising on my end and things I will always have to deal with. This includes time I would lose with my stepson, time I would lose with my husband, PTA meetings I will never attend, Parent Teacher conferences I will not be invited to, driving him to school on special days, alternating holidays each year, racing to see a movie before he sees it somewhere else, hoping our Christmas gifts are just as important as his others, planning our lives around the weekends, knowing that my husband is missing a child for most of the week...the list is endless.
Then, I had my own child and I find myself wanting more. I start to imagine a life that we can and should have with our son. Lately it's been involving our decision to move. I envision us living near great schools, in a picturesque neighborhood with kids outside playing after school. Seeing my kids make long lasting friendships with the neighborhood boys and girls.. My husband and I hosting backyard bar-b-ques and game nights with our friends from this new, hip, laid back, friendly neighborhood we have chosen for our family to call home. I see us researching statistics from state to state to determine the best schooling for our children and where we would like to really live for the next 15-30 years and raise more children together, being happy, feeling like we belong there.
But reality sets in. We can only go so far. We can only live within such a distance. We can only do certain things on certain days. We are limited. My son's life is limited. It's a hard pill to swallow now. I feel like I am failing my son by not being able to do what we want. It's not my life I put so much thought into...it's our life. It's his life. So why must it revolve around someone else's?
It's no ones fault. There is no one to be angry at. There is no one to feel resentful toward. No one wins in our situation all the time. There is just a lot of compromise, sometimes it's shitty, sometimes it's good, but it's always compromise. It's the children that ultimately are the ones who sacrifice in this situation because they did not have any choice in the matter. It's our decisions as to why things are the way they are for them. I have a son who sees his beloved brother only on the weekends and I have a stepson who misses his mother when he is with us. So why am I the one feeling so bad about this? Do I sound like a spoiled brat who wants to get her way? Probably. Or do I sound like a caring wife and mother who wants the best life for everyone? I don't know. I'm hoping it's the latter, or else my husband must hate me.
Marriage is hard.
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