Eva celebrated her 13th birthday a few weeks ago; a milestone, benchmark birthday. I have another teenager. I asked her what special gift she would like to commemorate this momentous occasion and she said she wanted her father and me to take her to see a Broadway show in San Francisco and then have dinner at a really fancy restaurant. We took her to see Wicked at the Orpheum Theatre  and afterward dined at Millenium, an upscale vegetarian restaurant in the lobby of the Hotel California.  Both were outstanding.

I was touched by her request for dinner and a show because that is precisely what I did  with my parents for my 13th birthday. They took me to see Angela Lansbury in Gypsy. I loved the theatre and at the time, dreamed of becoming an actress. I can still feel the goosebumps I got when Angela Lansbury made her show-stopping entrance.  Eva, I am sure, had similar feelings of excitement. She had been asking to see Wicked ever since her sister Sophia had seen it in New York a few years ago. They both downloaded some of the songs on their Ipods. When I told Eva I got tickets she was thrilled. She wore the same new dress I had bought her for Valentine’s Day. She looked beautiful.  When we got to the theatre, Jared, her father,  bought Eva a commemorative program and a sweat shirt. We, as her parents, enjoyed our day with her. It is a day we will always remember and one I am sure Eva will too.

On July 17th I will be participating in The American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life. I feel it is my small way of doing my part to help find a cure for cancer. Followers of my blog know that I have experienced devastating losses of loved ones from cancer. My best friend Cindy lost her battle with brain cancer and currently our dear friend and neighbor, Doug, is fighting bone cancer. I’ll never forget the fear I saw in Doug’s eyes when he told us that his tumors had grown and were spreading to his lungs. I’m tired of feeling helpless so I’m fighting back. Please click here to go to my Relay For Life homepage and click donate to make a contribution. And if you know anyone else who would like to join the cause, please click the share button below to forward. Thanks so much.

Paul and I just returned from another getaway business trip in S.CA. Since we travel there so often and are getting a lot of business down there, Paul decided to open an office  in L.A. — in Marina del Ray to be exact.  He will be moving in on July 1st. That means he will be traveling to the S.CA office every week for a while and eventually every other week.  

We drove down on Wednesday and stayed three nights. Paul surprised me by booking a suite at  the Westlake Village Inn. It is one of those  luxurious hotels where you find  fresh flowers and wine  waiting for you, chocolates on your pillow and the housekeeper puts fancy origami folds in the toilet paper.

At night we walked the grounds on our way to dinner. The architecture is very Tuscany style with Roman pillars, clay tile roofs and walkways; lots of fountains and private cabanas by the pool. We went swimming at night, soaked in the hot tub and admired the lamp lit palm trees and lush, tropical landscaping of papyrus plants, star jasmine, bougainvillea, lavender, and the  many different varieties  of roses.

It wasn’t all play and relaxation. We visited job sites, had meetings with clients and on Thursday presented a Green Seminar to the local building community. Paul is very excited about the prospects, leads and new business this trip generated. In this, or any economy, you have to go where the work is, which means that by opening this office, he will be away from us a lot more. 

Paul was very concerned about the effect his frequent traveling would have on our home life, so we decided he would only be gone on the weeks that I had just my girls, Sophia and Eva  and his kids were normally with their mom. On the every other week that we had all the kids, he would try to be here.  This is actually a welcome compromise for me in some ways. For four years before I met Paul, I was a single mother with two daughters who got used to having me all to themselves.  Now with Paul gone on our weeks alone, it will be only the three of us again and just like old times.  It gives us the guilt free  opportunity to do things that only we enjoy like eating Thai food, learning to sew and painting each other’s nails. Pretty soon my girls will be going off to college so I want to savor this time alone with them for as long as I can.  Paul understands this and he is grateful that I am independent enough and capable to be alone. Plus, as the old saying goes: “Absence  makes the heart grow fonder.”

Paul and I are in S. CA again for  a business trip. While he was golfing with a client, I decided to take a ride over to Simi Valley and visit the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library. It was a very fascinating experience with lots of interesting and moving  displays. There was the original letter he wrote to the American people when he learned he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. And of course Nancy Reagan’s famous wardrobe of Oscar De La Renta’s ballgowns and Versace suits; a case filled with Ronald Reagan’s belt buckles, his diary, a replica of his oval office and samples of White House china. The most exciting exhibit for me was the actual Air Force One. Not a replica. The real thing. Boeing dismantled it and shipped to the library and reassembled it in a hangar inside the museum. You can walk through it,  which I did. Twice. It is not nearly as big as depicted in Hollywood movies. The cockpit was very small. There were jars of jelly beans everywhere. Vintage ’80’s appliances such as an IBM Selectric typewriter, a microwave (with no popcorn setting) and really old looking phones and computers. It was a real thrill and an experience I highly recommend.

Paul and I wanted to take the kids on a mini vacation for a few days after school got out last week. Since I am taking the kids for a big trip back east in August, we had a limited budget for this trip. We had the option of staying at a client’s ocean front beach house (with a roof top pool) or go camping. Hmm. What to do. I was really voting for the former. We all were. But the house  turned out to not be available so I put on my game face and decreed: “Let’s go camping!”

I freakin’ hate camping. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I despise it. The only good thing about it is that when I come home I really appreciate running water, flushing toilets, warmth, a firm mattress and the relief from the cacophony of shrieking birds and beer- swilling drunks who think we like their blasting music. (Celine Dion at midnight. Somebody pleeeeeease call the park ranger!)

I didn’t always feel this way. When I was a child we went camping all the time. It was the only vacations my family could afford. When we got old enough to stay home alone our parents ditched camping (and us) for cruises to  Bermuda and The Bahamas.  I graduated from camping when I flew to Hawaii for the first time and experienced waiters bringing me Mai Tais by the pool.

Still, I think camping can be a valuable and enjoyable experience and fun for the kids, and since I am such a self-sacrificing mother, I was willing to brave one final voyage with our well-worn tent trailer… The Palomino Stallion.  When Paul and the kids were cleaning it out last week I noticed  for the first time the name Palomino Stallion emblazoned on the bottom and could not believe the oxymoronic ridiculousness of such a title. First of all you have to tow the thing, it’s not like it can trot around  by itself. And secondly, the words Palomino Stallion conjures up images in my mind of something graceful, fast, durable and … well… stud- like. Our dilapidated, mildewed, rusty tent trailer is anything but.

Since we were bringing our boat as well, we wanted a water front campground, so we  headed three hours south to Lake Nacimiento. It was beautiful. Not very crowded.  Since Paul is a camping machine (By that I mean a very methodical, organized and experienced camper. Remember, he has a head lamp.) it took us about an hour to set up camp, hang the dart board on the tree and put our boat in the water. We stayed three nights (which is my limit) and it turned out to be a very enjoyable trip.

The last full day we were there I suggested to Paul that we rent a speed boat since the boat we have only holds four people, which doesn’t work in a family of 7. (Paul got our boat when he was a single dad with three kids.) I thought it would be fun to get a large boat that could hold all of us so we could go out together and not have to take turns. The kids were delighted and I could see Paul was in his element at the helm. He rented water skis and taught the kids how to water ski. He gave Sophia and Mark a turn at the wheel and he took us over to a cove he found earlier that had great jumping rocks. This is something Paul really likes to do. He likes to find cliffs that are 20 feet up in the air so he can jump off of them. Doesn’t that sound (terrifyingly) fun? And he encourages the children to do it too!!! It is such an adrenaline rush he tells me. You must face your fears. As a mother of five children, four of whom are now teenagers, I feel that I face my fears every day and have mustered enough courage and adventure in one lifetime already.  I don’t need to jump off cliffs.

My favorite part of the trip was at night listening to the kids sit around the campfire talking about their memories of previous camping trips. Our blended family of four years has memories. Our first vacation together as a family was four years ago when we went to Anchor Bay in Mendocino County. They talked a lot about that and last year’s trip to The Delta. And the year before when we saw the hot springs in Mammoth and rented a pontoon boat on Lake Tulloch. It only goes to show you that in the hustle and commotion of every day life it is hard to notice that we have bonded as a family. It took our little mini vacation to allow us the time to discover and reflect that we had.

Father’s Day, Mother’s Day and every other holiday in a blended family is always a day of negotiations, scheduling coordinations and emotional balancing acts. In our house Father’s Day is kind of like Christmas in terms of the many gifts we have to buy for the number of fathers we have to remember. My girls have one father, two step dads and two grandpas. We’d like to spend the day with all of them, but that is never possible. Grandpa Tom, my ex father-in-law,  lives in New Jersey. Pop Pop, Paul’s dad lives nearby and will be here for our family barbeque. Jared, my (gay)  ex, and his spouse, Keith have in years past spend Father’s Day with us, but this year have decided to do their own thing. They will take the girls, Sophia and Eva, out for brunch and bring them back this afternoon so they can celebrate with Paul, Pop Pop and the rest of the kids for dinner. Right now, Paul and I are off for a bike ride so we can have our own private celebration together. Then an afternoon of sailing followed by a family barbeque.

Happy Father’s Day to all you dads and step dads out there.

Yesterday I wrote about my feelings about Sam graduating from high school. I was surprised by what I wrote because it was not what I set out to write. I wanted to share with you the events at the graduation and party afterward because a lot could have gone wrong considering the circumstances and our blended family dynamic.

We decided a month ago that we would have Sam’s party at our house. I told Susie, Paul’s ex that we would host the party and she told me she would bring the cake and drinks and that her boyfriend would attend the party along with her parents. HER PARENTS??? HER PARENTS???? I was surprised that they were attending because in the four years that I have known Paul I have never met them. They only live a four hour drive away, but they rarely visit. In fact Paul said that in the 12 years he was married to Susie, they only visited twice. Paul has always had a strained relationship with them and  has not seen or had any contact with his ex in-laws in over five years, since his divorce from Susie.

Well, what to expect. I have to admit I was dying of curiosity. Paul is a gentleman on every level so I knew there would be no fireworks from him. He would be civil and gracious and avoid conflict at all costs. But what about the grand parents? How would they behave? I was a tad nervous. I didn’t want anything to spoil Sam’s day and I was determined to be sure that he had the best graduation party ever. So I decided that I would pretend that I had no inside story or preconceived notions about Susie’s parents and I treated them just like I would any other guests in my home.

We met them  in the parking lot where the graduation was to take place. I could see the look on Susie’s mom’s face when she saw Paul. It was definitely strained. She greeted Paul with a handshake and said a terse “hello” to me. Once we got our seats on the bleachers (we sat at opposite ends) there was no interaction. I knew that it wasn’t until we got back to the house that we would see how the evening was going  to play out.

I was in the kitchen when they arrived. Now keep in mind, our house used to be Paul and Susie’s house.  We’ve remodeled it extensively so it looks a lot different, but still, to them it was once the home of their daughter. It must have been difficult for them. They came through the portico door and I went over to greet them. I said, “Thank you so much for coming. Welcome to our home.”  I think that warm gesture broke the ice and set the tone for the evening. Susie’s mom asked if she could help in the kitchen so I gave her some jobs to do. The act of all of us preparing the meal together really relaxed everyone.   I asked her about her teaching career.  I told her how much I loved her grandchildren and how grateful I was to have them in my life. We looked through the kids’ yearbooks.  I showed her the treasure box and checker board Mark made in wood shop. I gave her a bottle of my friend Les’ olive oil. Later,  we sat outside by the fire and drank a champagne toast to Sam.

When it was time for them to leave, Susie’s mom threw her arms around me. I looked her in the eyes and said to her, “I know this must not have been easy for you.” She replied, ” You made it easy.”

Sam graduated from high school yesterday. This marks a significant milestone not only in his life, but in mine too. More precisely, my relationship with him. I met Sam a little over four years ago, just as we was about to graduate from middle school. He was finishing one phase of his life and moving on to something new. For me, being able to share with him his high school years was my opportunity to experience one complete, full cycle of his life.

As a step mom, you get thrown into the middle of things.  Kind of like coming into the theatre during the second act after the overture has played, the characters have all been introduced and you have to read the synopsis in the program to catch up and figure out what the heck is going on.  It is very hard to jump right in there into the present, when you have not lived through the past. I never got to watch Sam play little league, never saw his class plays and  never pretended to be the  tooth fairy.

But high school was different because I was there from the beginning. I heard all about the classes he was taking, met all of his friends,  gave him rides to the mall so he could trade in his video games, played hostess at his birthday parties and watched over him like a hawk to make sure he was staying out of trouble.

The last part was a bit of a struggle because Sam did not take to high school the way we expected him to. He is an extremely bright boy who was simply bored to death in school. He was unchallenged and unmotivated. Still…  he went to school, didn’t cut classes and managed to fulfill all the requirements to graduate. Last week he surprised me when he asked if he could have money to buy a yearbook. He had never wanted one before. I assumed because  he did not want any memories of what he considered to me his miserable high school experience. I met him at school to give him the money and he was so happy he actually kissed me and told me he loved me. When he came home that day we sat on the couch together and he showed me all of the pictures of him that were in the book.  He was on the Halloween page wearing the Ghostbusters costume I had bought for him. We laughed at the funny cereal club photo that was a staged reenactment of  Da Vinci’s last supper. (He was Judas.) He showed me his teachers’ photos, his friends,  and shots of him in various classes. He looked happy. He was having a good time. Maybe high school wasn’t so bad after all. I was so grateful that he not only shared his memories with me, but that I had also been a part of them.

Sam will be going to community college in the fall. As he embarks on this next phase of his life I feel like I have been instrumental in helping him get there. It may be the third act, but I’m all caught up and I know what’s going on.

Paul was out of town last night so I did what I usually do when he is away: I stayed up late and watched Sex and the City reruns in bed. I have seen each episode at least 50 times. Paul has never commented about my fixation on this show although I know he must wonder why I watch it so much. Even I was baffled by my own fascination with Carrie and her friends until I realized that listening to them rehash their Saturday night dates over Sunday morning brunch was my way of reliving my youth. I too lived in NYC in the late 80’s,  danced the night away at The Palladium and attended my share of “Fleet Week” flight deck parties. My photograph appeared  on Page Six of the New York Post and when I married the first time, my wedding was announced in Town and Country Magazine. Those were the days. Sigh. I am now a soccer mom of five with  plantar fasciitis. (My kids tell me the orthotics I place in my shoes squeak when I walk.) So waiting to see if Miranda is going to have the baby or if Charlotte and Trey will ever get back together (even though I already know the outcome) is my fun escape from the sometimes monotonous routine of  a middle-aged woman who can’t find her reading glasses. Read the rest of this entry »

There are many times when I look at my tired husband,  road weary from frequent business travel, and I wish there were more ways in which I could share his burden.  When I tell him this he always tells me, “You do share the burden. I could never have started this business by myself without you. Knowing you are there to help and to take care of our children gives me comfort and peace of mind.” Read the rest of this entry »