I see no other option than to just dive right in.

That’s what I was thinking at the tender age of thirty-five when I decided to check off a laundry list of life’s Hallmark moments in one outrageous go- Marriage, career change, cross-country move and the arduous purchase of my first house, one large and sturdy enough to lodge my over-night family. The Husband, after all, came with two sons. And they decided to move in down the hall from us.

My therapist suggested that the only thing I’d left off the “stressful situation” list was a death in the family. And truly, I was okay with that. Not all the excitement at once, really. A girl needs something to look forward to.

Perhaps I was biting off a teensy-weensy bit too much.

One might (and many did) have predicted that perhaps I was biting off a teensy-weensy bit too much, even for an ornery steer of a woman, but stubborn and tenacious, I thought, what’s the big deal. I’ve waited this long. Change is healthy, no?

So, I dove right in and yes, there’s been a splash or two.

Some days the water is quite comfortable and I float easily on my back looking up at the clouds. Other times I want to grow fins and hide at the bottom of the deep end. Most afternoons, I’m simply treading water, but at least I’m buoyant and still breathing. It’s when I get overly-confidant and start showing off (Look at me, I can do a handstand!), that the words of my own mother speak into my plugged up ears, “Watch what you’re doing. It’s when you start thinking you’re a damn fish that you drown.”

Sound, motherly advice. No more grandstanding, she’s right. Instead, only my heartfelt and humble admission: Step-parenting ain’t for sissies. In this pool, you either sink like rocks or start kicking like hell.

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Posted Monday, June 18th, 2007 12:00 am Category Izzy on Stepmotherhood. Get the RSS feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.