I am an only child. And I have a sister.  To be specific, a half-sister. Which means, on my dad's side side of my family I have a sister. And on my mom's side, I'm an only child. And as much as I like to think that I'm really a co-parent of a seventeen year-old half sister, really, we're sisters. And as soon as I can come to terms with that, the better. So say I and the self-shrinkage that is going on here, but hopefully this will help someone else to realize that it's ok to feel completely schizophrenic with regards to roles when generations are being blurred more and more, and there are half-things out there that feel whole sometimes, and nonexistent other times.

Let me start at the beginning of the story. My parents divorced about 18 years ago. My dad had a baby with the woman he walked out of "our" door and into the next house with. She is otherwise known as "the second wife" or "my sister's mom."  Both terms left me feeling very angry for having to utter them. I, after all, did not leave anyone or hurt anyone. Why should I have to use such echhhy vocabulary?   I left town soon-after.   Book rights not for sale, I'm writing this one myself, but not here (ah yes, you're spared). But yes, this does go on in Shorewood, and men are truly a protected species as no one so much as bats an eye when ... organizational change is affected...as far as I'm concerned.  In sum, I took the high road - embracing my dad's new rather large family (the new wife had four kids already), giving them advice for navigating the Shorewood Schools, taking care of baby, helping my mom readjust and move to another series of homes in Shorewood, and generally being emotionally and physically available to all the players.

So I did what any other self-respecting 21 year old would do....

I moved to Chicago.

But now I'm back, and part of being back in Shorewood is really facing my issues. First of all, it was hard to find a house that wasn't on the same block as a past home of either household.  I think I have classmates who had similar family shifts and "change agents" affecting some new developments.  It's hard stuff, but as a parent now, I realize it's imperative that I understand my most murky and painful issues, because really they are based on expectations that I will be a perfect mother, and that whatever I suffered as a child is irrevocably so horrid that can never be redressed.  However. My parents have moved away, and that baby is now 17, here for a visit.  When my sister holds my baby and at the same playgrounds I took her to as a baby, people ask HER how old her baby is, instead of when it was me holding her. I get seriously verklemmt (and hey, I was a German major, so I use the term still).  And, just like I did, she shrugs, and says "Bout a year I think?" and people recoil in horror. And I can honestly say there, there is a glimmer of humor in this otherwise hard to digest emotional pill.  So here's what I realized. She's not some constant reminder of my life as a "first marriage offspring" or That's-When-Life-Went-Nuts moment. She is my sister. At least as long as my mom and I aren't concerned.  I didn't say I was done here, but I'm easing off a long-time hang-up about parenting my Dad's daughter instead of just hanging out with my sister.

She is finally old enough to tell me to stop calling him by his first name when we discuss him,...he is our DAD. And I'm able to now tell her that my children generally address me as MOM, and not Jenny. It's funny having to rearticulate what is a given in many families, but I think we're both, my sister and I, on the front lines now and realize that it's up to us to either fix this stuff or have insincere experiences, which we're too in need of real family times to do.

So here's a toast of stale yet chilled crappy white zinfandel - here's to you children of the first marriage, who've sucked it up and been there for parents who took you for granted, and you grew a bitter side that is darker than anyone would suspect. This is for you, in hopes that at some point, you can hang out with your "siblings" and you can tell them "You know, I really feel left out of Dad's life" and they can say "Oh PUHleeze, are you kidding? You know how he does this and that, and .." and suddenly, you have a sister, or a brother, and you can actually coexist without a giant lump in your throat.  Happy Summer Wedding Season!  I'm outta here - my sister's watching my kids for an hour.