This is the first in a series of Blended Family Stories in which I or one of my fellow moms and stepmoms will recount their experiences, challenges, frustrations and joys being the female head of a blended or stepfamily. If you or anyone you know would like to participate in my video log, please contact me at Carol@shwanda.com.

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.

We planned to mark the occasion by leaving the kids home alone and sneaking out after dinner to “reenact” our first date. But… that didn’t pan out. Instead I had a headache and homework to do and Paul, being the absolute doll that he is, sensed my bad mood and in his usual caring, loving way,  alleviated my stress by  offering  to pick up takeout. He came home with several dishes from my favorite local Asian restaurant and a bottle of Windy Oaks pinot noir, the winery where we got married. We stayed home and lit a fire.

While he was out picking up our dinner, I routed through some files and found copies of our original email exchanges I had printed out, which I read to him later when we were alone. It reminded me of why I fell in love with him, why I still love him and I shuddered at the thought that I almost never wrote back to him in the first place. Below is a quote in its entirety  of the very first email he  sent to me exactly as he wrote it.

“I read your profile iand see yours yours. Seems like parallel paths, but a few miles apart within Santa Cruz!”

That’s it folks. That’s all I got. Not only was it riddled with misspellings that made the statement  basically unintelligible, but THAT WAS ALL HE HAD TO SAY??? Where was the worship and adoration I was seeking? No, “You’re so beautiful and fascinating that I  cannot wait to meet you!” It is hard for me to imagine now, but I almost wrote him off for his bad grammar and lousy punctuation, which is ironic when I consider what a great writer Paul is. He proofreads all of my papers for school and his input makes them so much better. He is meticulous, neat and tidy in so many areas of his life (except that he often leaves his dirty socks and underwear on the bedroom floor) that it is hard for me to believe that I almost let him get away for the careless, inconsiderate slob I initially perceived him to be. This brings me to my point, ladies: Don’t let the good ones get away while you pine away for some idealized fantasy of some fairytale prince that you have built up in your mind as THE ONE.

I just finished reading a fantastic book that I believe  is perhaps the most seminal in depth study of male/female relationships that I cannot recommend it enough. It is called, Marry Him: The Case for Settling for Mr. Good Enough I know, the title puts you off a little bit. It is a little offensive. How dare anyone expect you to settle? Like it’s a dirty word. The author Laura Gottlieb makes a strong case for doing just that. Settling in this context is more about compromise and being realistic,  and ultimately  about acceptance.

Gottlieb learned this lesson the hard way and is trying to spare other women of committing the same mistakes. She says women today have a heightened sense of entitlement. They expect too much without really thinking about what they have to give to get. She quotes Dr. Michael Broder, a Philadelphia-based psychologist who specializes in relationships as saying, “For these women, not only is the imagined guy a fantasy, but so is the actual relationship. After all, there’s a limit to what a relationship can provide.  They are looking for a relationship from the perspective of what the guy can provide for them — a ‘me-me-me thing’ — instead of wanting something more reciprocal.” He went on to say that our mother’s generation was not like this. “They may have wished, but certainly didn’t expect, that their husbands would constantly want to please them, be attracted to them, entertain them, enjoy sharing all of their interests, and be the most charming person in the room. Instead they knew that marriage involved failing health, aging, boredom, periods of stress and disconnection, annoying habits, issues with children,  hardships and misunderstandings of all sorts.”

I know women like this and they are all alone. A few years ago I tried to introduce my never married 40ish friend to a really great guy I knew whom I described to her as, “Sweet, kind, really good looking, fun, active, smart, funny, has a good job and owns his own home.” Her response? How tall is he? She just couldn’t date him if he wasn’t at least five inches taller than she. He wasn’t. He’s now married to someone else and she’s still alone. I know another woman who will summarize her first date by telling you what he wore. She’ll describe his shirt, his shoes and the car he drove. There is never any mention of his character or  personality, how he treated her, what they talked about or how she felt when she was with him. She told me recently, “I just want a guy who’s crazy about me.” Oy.

Relationships are work. They take effort, investment, time and patience. NO ONE is perfect. We all have flaws. My 40ish friend was 30 pounds over weight when she made her  “I can’t date a short guy” proclamation.  Imagine if the tables were turned and he said, “Sorry, I can’t take a gal who’s chubby.” He’d be a cad. She, on the other hand, is selective. She won’t settle.

I didn’t settle either. I have my standards. My husband had to love kids and dogs. He had to be kind, loving, smart and funny. No bad tempers or substance abuse issues. I can still remember that first time I stood in Paul’s kitchen and he poured his heart out to me. He confessed that he really didn’t have much money. (As if I couldn’t guess. Financial hardship is often a by product of divorce.) I knew I loved him when I didn’t care. We could make a life together and we started planning that minute. Thank god I didn’t toss him aside when I got that first email.

This is our cat Flip standing guard by the back door of our house. Noticed the claws slightly displayed. Our pets mean a lot to the kids, as they were always a source of comfort and security during tough times. Whenever the kids have had a rough day they usually find one of our three cats, or the dog and just curl up and snuggle.

Lover's Point in Pacific Grove

Our "rock" table picnic spot

Eight years ago, when I first became a single mom, I was in a wine shop and spotted a picnic backpack filled with all the essentials for a romantic picnic for two: plates, silverware, a cheese board, a wine opener (can’t forget that), wine glasses, cloth napkins and a tablecloth. I bought it and dreamed of a day when I would use it on the beach with a romantic partner. We’d ride our bikes along a path by the ocean, stop at a gourmet deli and pick up some local wine and exotic cheeses, find a cozy, sunny spot on the beach and enjoy the fine food and company. So romantic.

I never used that picnic backpack. I put it on a shelf and forgot about it. Until today. I spent most of the morning working on homework and when I was done I announced to Paul that is was time to HAVE SOME FUN!!! It was his idea to go for a bike ride and have a picnic on the beach. “Hey,” he reminded me, “Don’t you have a picnic backpack thing that we’ve never used?” He retrieved it from the laundry room shelf where it had been gathering dust. I cleaned it off and while Paul loaded the bikes into the car, I ran to the store to get some indulgent, decadent noshing foods like Humboldt Fog goat cheese, tapenades, crusty bread, wine and dark chocolate. Yum. We drove down to Pacific Grove to a park called Lover’s Point and rode our bikes to Monterey. The weather was gorgeous. It was so relaxing and romantic. We found the perfect spot, a “rock” table and while I set out the food, I thought about how far I’ve come since I first bought this backpack and how happy I was that I finally got to use it.

Then it  got kind of cold and windy. Paul spilled his wine all over the table and accidentally sat in it. He had this pee like stain on his butt. A homeless person wandered by and I felt kind of guilty that we were indulging and thought about offering her some food. We forgot the bike lock so I worried the bikes would get stolen. And then my lactose intolerance started to kick in. But it was very romantic. I swear. Not exactly as I pictured it, but then nothing ever is.

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.

The other benefit is the kids can see their other parents more. Even though we have set custody arrangements, mine and Jared (my ex) have about a 70/30 split and Paul and Susie are about 50/50, we have always had an open door policy. We were all flexible. If a parent was  traveling  on business or holiday or just wanted extra time with the kids no one objected or complained. But… we had to make arrangements for transportation. Now we don’t have to. For instance, two weekends ago I asked my girls to come over to help me with a project while they were spending the weekend with their dad. They stopped by for a few hours (after a trip to Starbucks) and then went back to their dad’s. This weekend is the Lighted Boat Parade in Santa Cruz and even though it is mine and Paul’s  kid free weekend, our teen drivers will be bringing their siblings by if they want to come with us. Now everyone has the best of both worlds.