One of the many issues blended families and stepchildren have to deal with is the conflict over divided loyalties. Our family is no exception.

Last week I told you  about our trip to San Luis Obispo and Santa Barbara to look at colleges for Sophia. We had a blast. I took all three girls, my two daughters,  Sophia and Eva, and my stepdaughter Cheryl. We planned the trip a few months ago and even went shopping  for new outfits; shorts, swimsuits, etc. just for the occasion. What I did not plan for was that we were going to be gone for Easter. I had gotten the dates mixed up and thought Easter was the following week, which meant that  I had actually planned the trip so that we would be gone for Easter.

A few days before we were to leave, Paul got a call from his ex-wife, Cheryl’s mother, saying that Cheryl had decided she did not want to  go because she would much rather stay home and hang out with her friends. She also informed Paul that Cheryl  was afraid to tell me herself for fear that I would be “mad at her”. Paul relayed the news to me, and  I did not buy it for one second. Not want to go because you want to hang out with your friends??? Come on. I knew there was more to the story, but I didn’t want to put on any pressure for fear that I would be characterized as one who “gets mad at things”. So I said nothing, even though I was concerned that Cheryl would be missing out on a great opportunity to visit colleges and that she would regret it. Quite frankly, I was a little pissed. I told Paul, “You should encourage her to go. This is a great opportunity. Seeing these college campuses will inspire her.” But he resisted my prodding, which only exacerbated the problem further. Our differing parenting styles often clash. When it comes to kids (and just about anything), I believe in getting to the bottom of things. Paul does not. He thinks we should let things flow “organically”.  “Don’t get involved and don’t imagine things,” he always tells me. So I kept my mouth shut and I didn’t say anything to Cheryl about not going.

The night before we were to leave Cheryl was sitting on the couch playing on her iPod and I asked her, “So, Cheryl, what are your plans for this weekend?” She replied, “I’m going on the trip with you.” This was news to me, but I did not let on. Instead I said, “Well let’s do your laundry and get you packed” While we were in the laundry room sorting through her clothes she admitted to me, ” I never not wanted to go. I just felt bad about being gone over Easter…” and her voice trailed off. I realized she felt guilty about leaving her parents. After all, I’m not her mother.  She had divided loyalties.

I called Cheryl’s mother to tell her Cheryl had had a change of heart and decided to go. She was surprised. If she was disappointed she didn’t let on. She had Easter plans with Cheryl, but to her credit, she did not object and respected Cheryl’s decision to come with us on the trip.  Cheryl and her mom celebrated Easter on Wednesday after we returned. Sometimes, that’s what you have to do in a blended family.

Yesterday was Sam’s 19th birthday and we all went out to dinner to celebrate. My girls, Eva and Sophia, were at their dad’s and did not attend, but Paul’s kids, along with Susie, his ex-wife, met up at a wonderful Chinese restaurant in Capitola called Canton’s. I highly recommend it.

It was a pleasant evening. We each had assigned jobs to order various courses, ( mine was appetizers) but desert was the usual fortune cookie. Sam went first to read aloud his fortune, but before he did he said, “I think I got Dad and Carol”s.” (Carol is me, those of you who don’t know.) It said: “You will be very happy with your spouse.”

“What a nice thing to say”, I thought, not only because he could recognize that his father and I are happy, but because he acknowledged my existence in the first place. You see, Sam and I have a very turbulent past, so to speak. There are times when he looks at me with such disdain I swear he hates me. If I had to list all the mistakes I made as a step mother,  most would  begin with Sam.

When I first entered Sam’s life he was coasting along just fine without me. Both of his parents worked outside the home and there I was working from home and therefore able to observe him not doing his homework, eating crap and playing too many video games. I felt it was my role to correct his behavior and made it my mission to do so. In hindsight, this was not such a great idea. It not only back fired in my face, it bred resentment. I hope someday Sam will look back on my “interference” as caring rather than an annoyance. Only time will tell. If I had to do it all over again I would simply leave his parenting up to his parents and stay out of it. I set myself up to be the bad guy, even though I was well intentioned. Perhaps Sam’s acknowledgement that I was  good for his father was the first nod in my favor. Maybe I am making way too much of this, but sometimes I just have to take what I can get.

Sophia got her wisdom teeth out on Friday and she came through like a real trouper. I know she was scared, but she kept a stiff upper lip (even though it was ashen, like the color of her face) and I was very proud of her. It was her first time under anesthesia  and I was a bit nervous myself. I assured her all the way that it was no big deal, that I had my wisdom teeth out when I was her age and I got to drink milkshakes  and it was so fun. (I didn’t mention that I remember puking blood into a bedpan afterward. I chose to keep that thought to myself.) In those days you stayed overnight in the hospital. Now, in this day and age of revolving door medical care, it’s in and out. I was horrified, truthfully, when the nurse called out to me, “Here’s your daughter. She’s ready to go,” and presented me with a wobbly teenager still doped up from the anesthesia. The child could barely stand, but she was cognizant enough to show me a baggy filled with her bloody teeth. Eeeeew. (I kept that thought to myself too.)

Fortunately her dad, Jared, my ex, was with me and together we carried her to the car. When we got her home, Paul was there to open the door and turn down her bed. Jared sat with her while I ran to the store to stock up on milkshake ingredients. When I returned, it was time for Sophia to ice her jaw. I gave her two baggies filled with ice cubes which she held to her face. She complained of being bored because she wanted her hands free. I tried tying the bags with a towel around her head, but that didn’t work so I asked my engineer husband for a problem solving solution. “What can we tie to her head that wouldn’t be too heavy and would stay on?” Seriously, without any hesitation, he responded, “How about a bra?” He then put the ice bags in  two socks and placed them in the cups of a bra and hooked it to her head. Voila. It worked. Sophia was able to ice her jaw for several hours while she played on her computer. And she got to experience the love and attention of her three parents. I would show you the photo I took of her, but she won’t let me. Just as well since some images are probably better left to the imagination.

I kept hoping this year’s Christmas would go off without a hitch. I really thought that we had finally worked out all the kinks. But no. There always seems to be something or someone who screws up the works.

As you might expect, blended family holidays, particularly Christmas, can be fraught with thwarted expectations and nostalgic remembrances of how things used to be when mom and dad were still married. Every family has its own traditions and blending them and finding a common ground is the hardest to do this time of year.

When I was a single mom my two girls always spent Christmas eve and woke up Christmas morning at my house. My ex would come over in time to watch them open their presents and we would all have breakfast and play with the new toys. There was no stress or drama and everyone was happy.

Things were a little different for Paul. When he was a single dad his kids spent Christmas eve at their mom’s and woke up Christmas morning at her house and he stayed at home alone. He didn’t get invited to go over to her house and he did not get to share in the joy of Christmas morning with his children. They would come to his house later in the afternoon, but it just wasn’t the same. Two years ago Paul decided he wanted this to change and told his ex he wanted his turn having the kids wake up Christmas morning with him. She was not happy about it, but went along with it when they decided they would alternate the holiday every year. I, in turn, made the same arrangement with my ex giving him his turn to have the kids on Christmas morning. (Are you keeping up? I know, it’s exhausting keeping track.)

This year was supposed to be our turn to have the kids wake up here on Christmas morning, but apparently Paul’s ex “forgot” and went ahead and make plans (without consulting us)  to go out of town on Christmas day with her boyfriend so she has to have the kids on Christmas eve and Christmas morning. She promised that next year we could have the kids. We went along with her request seein’s how she was going to bring the kids over at 10am on Christmas morning anyway, but here’s the wrinkle. My kids are still waking up here with us and when they get up they want to go to the tree and open their presents right away. They don’t want to have to wait until 10am when Paul’s kids come over, which is what Cheryl is insisting that we do. She accused Sophia of being rude for not waiting for them to come over so they can open presents as a family. While I appreciate Cheryl’s logic, I don’t think she is looking at the big picture. When she wakes up at her mom’s is she going to have to wait to open her presents? No. She was very insistent and would not listen to reason. This made all three girls cry. Sophia resented being called rude as well as the demands dictating how she spend her Christmas morning. Eva, who is very self-sacrificing and is  willing to wait until Paul’s kids came over, was upset that there was a conflict and said, “Why does everything have to be so hard?”  My sentiments exactly. Why does it have to be so hard? I’m weary. I’m weary of having to constantly negotiate, mediate and compromise. Dealing with the kids is one thing, but having to also accomodate  the demands of the ex-spouse is  frustrating and exhausting.

I tried to smooth things over the best I could and promised my girls I would talk to Paul when he came home to explain the situation so he could reason with Cheryl. I also suggested a compromise, “How about you open just a few presents” but neither side would budge. When I told Paul the whole story he backed me up and said he would talk to Cheryl.  (He hasn’t had a chance to do this yet because the kids went to their other parents’ on Friday.) Knowing this made my girls feel better. Still, I am dreading another confrontation. It makes me very sad.  I hope we can get past this and still enjoy our Christmas.

In the meantime, I did try to get Sophia to put things in perspective. Waiting to have to open your presents is better than not having presents to open. And Cheryl’s demands that she wait are borne of her own need to feel included and to not be left out.  After all, we are a family and families open their presents together. A conundrum that will take the wisdom of Solomon to solve. If you readers have any suggestions, thoughts or comments  I would love to hear them.

Often times I feel like my life is one big negotiation. Every day I seem to be holding my cards close to the vest deciding which ones to play, when to bluff and when to fold. For instance,  yesterday morning Paul went out the front door to get the paper and banged himself in the nose with the door because I had left the chain on, he didn’t realize it and slammed the door in his face. Ouch. At dinner last night he asked me, “When you lock the front door, could please not put the chain on?” My response was that I always put the chain on, especially when he is out of town. It makes me feel safe. It is a habit I got into when I was a single mother. And then I thought, “Why do I have to change? Why can’t you just remember that I do this, check before opening the door and this way you won’t bonk your forehead again? ” You’d think if he did this once he’d remember.

He conceded. I won that battle. Just as I sort of did over the issue of the area rug in front of the kitchen sink. I don’t like area rugs because I always trip over them and I see them as just one more thing that I have to clean. But Paul was insistent that we have one so we got one and when it wore out, I threw it out. He keeps asking me when I am going to replace it and I tell him I haven’t found any that I like. But the truth is, that rug is never coming back.

Now I’ve made my share of compromises too in the cohabitation department. Or have I? Let me think for a moment. Yes. Actually it is more on the tolerance level. For instance, I have learned to overlook his toothpaste spit on the bathroom towels, the crumbs he leaves behind on the dining room table and the sunflower seeds I find all over my car. (Oh and I can’t forget the lint from his pants pockets that always ends up on my dresser.) These are things that I have learned to overlook because as an adult, I know in the big picture, they are not that important. But through the eyes of a child, they are HUGE.

I’ll never forget when we were first contemplating the move Eva asked me, “Are we going to smell like them?” Smell like them??? She went on to explain that every family smells differently. We figured it was mostly because of the bath soap and laundry detergent they used combined  with various food smells. Eva was insistent that she did not want to smell like them. And I assured her we would still smell like ourselves.

What it all comes down to in a kid’s mind, and often in an adult’s mind, is: Who has the power and the control? Just as I wondered last night  to Paul, “Why do I have to change? Why can’t you just remember to take the chain off before you open the door?” My sense of autonomy was impugned. I didn’t want to be challenged on something so trivial to him that was so important to me. And he took it like a man and let me have my way because he knew that my sense of security was worth the risk of him hitting himself in the nose with the door.

I continue to hope that I am modeling to my children the life skills they will need to become thoughtful, considerate adults so that they not only learn  how to assert themselves  for the issues that are most important to them, but  also see things through other people’s  perspective.  It’s called negotiation. It’s called Democracy. It doesn’t always seem fair, but sometimes you just have to compromise. Even if it means smelling (just a little) like them.

As a followup to my most recent post, One or none, I wanted to share with you an article I wrote for the Examiner titled Blended family discipline.

Want to be on Dr. Phil with AND improve your relationship with the mom or stepmom in your life?

Jennifer Newcombe Marine and Carol Marine, the mom and stepmom duo who wrote No One’s the Bitch have the opportunity to be on Dr. Phil and they are looking for a mom and stepmom  who can’t stand each other, but who are willing to be on the show next week, Tuesday, Nov. 3rd. For more information click on their website No One’s the Bitch or email Jennifer at marine2marine@gmail.com.

Mark turned 16 this past week and we had a family celebration at our house. Paul’s ex, Susie, brought the cake and ice cream. I ordered the sushi at Mark’s request. Susie and I planned the party together in advance, which is what we have been doing now for the past three years, since Mark’s 13th birthday, when he informed me that he would like to celebrate with all of his parents. I facilitated this effort because previous to my coming onto the scene, Paul and Susie celebrated their kids’ birthdays separately from each other.  When I first suggested to Susie that we have a combined party at our house, I think she was surprised at my overture, but she did not resist. At first it was awkward, but we got through it and now it is second nature. We’ve actually gotten into a routine. Since I usually prepare the food and set the table, Susie clears the table and loads the dish washer. I always defer to Susie to cut the cake and I scoop the ice cream. And everyone takes pictures.  It has become a ritual and the new normal for the kids. They’re happy, which makes me happy.

Being the celebrity gossip monger that I am, I couldn’t help but search the Internet for reasons why the Norman/Evert marriage didn’t work out. According to an article published in People magazine, the main reason was problems with the couple’s blended family of five children. Evert has three teenage sons with her ex, former Olympic skier Andy Mill (who was at one time Norman’s best friend) and Norman has two grown children in their 20′s. Norman’s kids never warmed up to their step mom and Norman is accused by Evert’s ex for coming between him and his sons.

Maybe this can be attributed to the fact that the kids are older and it’s harder for older kids to accept a new parent and blend as a family. Or the fact that they did not get to know each other very long before the wedding may have had something to do with it. OR, it could be because THE COUPLE NEVER ACTUALLY LIVED TOGETHER. They never set up house together. Norman and Evert each kept separate residences and had sleep overs. That, in my opinion, is a recipe for disaster because it does not signify a true commitment. I don’t care if it worked for Woody and Mia (and we all know how that turned out), nothing says commitment quite like joint bank accounts and joint mortgage payments. I’ll never forget (although I have tried) those first few months of us all living together in a still-under-construction-house with no heat and in some rooms, no walls; our belongings still in boxes, snuggling up with blankets and popcorn on lawn chairs in the family room to watch a movie. Now those were the days. Although it was a struggle and an adjustment for the kids, Paul and I as their parents sent a very clear message to them that we were committed, this was their new home and we are a family.

October 9, 2009 (I’ve decided to start dating my posts.)

Sophia got a car. She had been saving her babysitting and birthday money for months, but she didn’t need to use any of it because her father bought the car for her. He told her she could keep her money to pay for gas and other expenses. She was thrilled. She drove herself to school the other day for the first time and stopped on the way home to get a burrito. What independence. She is enjoying her new found freedom, but not without a little bit of guilt and compassion for her step brother Mark, who is about to turn 16 and does not have enough money saved to buy a car. This leads us to the many common issues and problems in a blended family— fairness and equality. Paul and I, due to the difficult economy, are not in a position to help Mark buy a car and neither is Susie, Mark’s mother. When Sophia realized this she felt bad for her step brother and offered to help him get a car with the money she had saved that she did not need to use to buy her car. What an amazing, generous, thoughtful gesture on her part. We have a third car Mark can use until we can get the money together to help him get a car. In the mean time, it was so nice for Mark to know that his sister was looking out for him.