The casino, with its  tall ceiling, flashing neon lights and  popping sounds of slot machines can best be described as  walking through a life size pinball machine. That was the image that came to my mind. The Oceano Restaurant, complete with hanging jelly fish chandeliers has to be experienced in order to be fully appreciated.  The hotel room itself, however,  conjures an entirely different image. There is  a large Jacuzzi tub (for two)  in the center of the room with mirrors on the ceiling, naturally, and get this… there is a double strand of rope lighting  surrounding the perimeter of the ceiling that when lit up in the evening resembles an airport landing strip. Who designs these places I want to know? The trip was very successful but I am anxious to go home. Tomorrow is Mother’s Day and I miss my children.

One of the many swimming pools at Bellagio.

After my wonderful four days with the girls touring colleges, shopping and sightseeing  in San Luis Obispo and Santa Barbara, I headed home Tuesday night only to unpack and repack to head out to Las Vegas with Paul for a business conference. We stayed at the opulent, over-the- top hotel, Bellagio.

I had only been to Las Vegas once before, a year ago, which was also a work related trip. From a business perspective, the trips were both  huge successes. From a personal perspective, I have to say, Vegas is not my cup of tea. Or martini, or vodka tonic or whatever they drink in Sin City.

The town simply offends me on so many levels. I don’t know what bothers me the most, the manufactured ambiance, (fake oceans for instance), the cigar/cigarette smoke everywhere (Paul requested a non-smoking section in a restaurant and was informed there is no such thing.) the over-stimulating excess (re-touched posters of Cher) or the Frank Sinatra/Julio Iglesias/Celine Dion music blaring from the sound system.  Just in case you haven’t heard, Frank Sinatra was a member “the Rat Pack” and he and his buddies, Dean, Sammy and Joey, used to play a lot of gigs in Vegas. Lest we forget, his image and voice are everywhere. So are impersonators of Marilyn and Elvis. The best comparison I can make is to say  visiting this town is like sitting through a screening of The Rocky Horror Picture Show … on steroids.

But I was never a party girl. I like dressing up for maybe an hour and then my feet hurt from the high heels and I want to kick them off, put on some sweats, crawl into a club chair and read a book. OK, so I’m boring. I missed my kids. We are already planning our next college tour.

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.

Most of the time we relaxed in the pool and ate homemade pizza. Paul fulfilled his need to jump from high places by jumping off the roof of the house into the pool. (Another tradition). One day we went to the Malibu Beach  and Paul took the kids surfing. (No Mathew McConaughey sightings unfortunately.) Another day we went to Hollywood, saw the Hollywood sign, walked down the Walk Of Fame and visited Grauman’s Chinese theatre. Much to Mark’s supreme pleasure, we  drove down Sunset Boulevard  and passed the The Whiskey A Go Go, The Rainbow Bar and Grill and The Roxy. The kids got to experience all the things they’ve read about or heard about in songs and always wanted to see.

On the way home, Paul let Sophia drive on the freeway at 70 MILES AN HOUR! She doesn’t have her license yet, just her permit and I was white knuckle the whole time sitting in the back seat while Paul sat in the passenger seat calmly checking his email on his Blackberry. He taught her how to use the cruise control and to pass cars. She was delighted and quite proud of herself. It was another opportunity for them to bond.

We arrived home rested and relaxed (except for me who was still freaked out about the teen driving)  and ready to tackle the new school year.

The advent of the cell phone has done a lot for the communication in a blended family. I don’t know how we ever lived without it. On the weeks that our kids are at their other parents’ houses, they are constantly texting each other and sending photos so they can stay in touch. One day when Sophia was here at our house she observed Paul’s kids’ cats sleeping with their paws wrapped around each other. She thought it was really cute so she took a photo with her phone and sent it to them. They really appreciated that. That was Sophia’s way of saying, “I’m thinking of you and I don’t want you to miss this.”

As with everything else on this trip, I wanted to share this experience with my children and I have to say they did not recoil in disgust as I feared they might.  First I taught them how to hold a live crab so that it would not bite them. (I consider this one of my special talents and part of my charm.) Then my brother-in-law, who did the cooking, showed them how to steam them in a large pot filled with some water, beer and Old Bay seasoning. The sauce was later poured over pasta and enjoyed along with the crabs. The final lesson was showing them how to break open the crabs to get the meat out. This they found to be a fun, albeit, messy challenge. And they loved the crabs. It was a perfect sendoff to a perfect trip.

Monday we drove thirty miles south to go to the beach in Ocean City, New Jersey. When we were kids we used to take day trips from our home in suburban Philadelphia to the beach. My parents would pile all five of us kids and a cooler full of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches into the paneled station wagon (which my father had embarrassingly decorated with flower power stickers) for the 90 minute drive to “the shore”, which my sister Pam referred to as “Ocean Ditty New Dirty.” We spent the whole day in the sun by the water’s edge building sand castles, collecting sea shells and searching for sand crabs. The water was usually refreshingly crisp and we  could body surf for hours. The highlight of the day was when the Good Humor man would come by with a cooler slung over his shoulder calling out in a very distinctive drawn out voice of a game show announcer, ” Ice… cream… sandwiches….creamsicles…. water ice….fudgie…….wudgies….”

These are the things I wanted to share with my children and they enjoyed them as much as I did, even though they were reluctant to let on because as you know they are teenagers and find everything I say and do embarrassing. OK, so maybe they are a little old to get excited about sand crabs. Still… my memories are now their memories too.

I really lucked out in the in-law department. They always treated me like a daughter and when Jared and I divorced, my mother-in-law told me, “You’re still one  of us. ” I miss my mother-in-law terribly. She died 10 months after my mother died and I was totally unprepared. She was only 72 and her death was unexpected. I wondered how I would feel walking into her house with her not there. I did not go to her funeral because she died in September just when the kids were starting school, and because of that I never felt like I had closure.

We took the train from Penn Station to Dunellen and Grandpa Tony and Jared’s brother Ken met us at the station. It was a nice surprise to see Ken. He had been waiting for us to arrive. When we got back to the house, Jared’s sister Margie called to say she would be right over. Jared has one sister and four brothers, but only Ken and Margie live nearby. They both stayed late into the evening and we talked for hours. They were very interested in my new life and seemed happy for me. I think they were in some way reassured that Jared and I still have a positive co-parenting relationship. Margie did something very special. She gave each of my girls a pair of my mother-in-law’s earrings. I made a vow to myself to stay in better contact with them in the future. I think they would enjoy receiving photos and letters from the girls.

The next day I took the kids to see the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. It was very weird seeing the New York City skyline without the Twin Towers.  We also went to the Liberty Science Center which was a lot of fun. Later in the evening Sophia and I poured through family photo albums. I was very surprised to see that in one of them my father-in-law saved a Christmas card I had sent him the first year Paul and I were married. It was a collage of photos from our wedding. He saved it. I was very touched. Jared and mine’s wedding photo is off the wall, but my wedding photos with Paul were relegated to a book.

I also looked through my mother-in-law’s recipe boxes. I was looking for her famous Spanish crepe recipe which I did not find. I pulled out all of her other specialties and with Tony’s permission, I kept them. They were in her handwriting and that was my way of preserving a part of her.