Blending families isn't easy. There are always obstacles, speed bumps, steps backward. I've learned to be patient and keep my expectations reasonable.
But there are those moments that make my heart sing.
KlutzGirl curling up on the couch with me to watch TV, letting me stroke her long blond hair and give her a cuddle.
The Padawan making a sly joke about me that sets us all laughing.
The Dark One letting me hug her--and kind of hugging me back.
DramaBoy running across the room to hug MTL exuberantly after days at his dad's place.
The Widget giggling uncontrollably as MTL tickles him and they rough house on the couch.
Sitting around the dining room table, all of us, eating dinner and laughing. Together. A family.
Showing posts with label beginnings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beginnings. Show all posts
Friday, April 29, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
The Stories of Us
I think a few of you who read over here don't regularly read (or read at all) my main blog, Diapers and Dragons. So I thought I'd link you to the three posts I wrote there recently that tell the stories of how MTL and I met, fell in love, and (eeeeee!!) became engaged.
So here you go:
How MTL Became My True Love (Part I)
How MTL Became My True Love (Part II)
How MTL Became My Fiance
Enjoy!
So here you go:
How MTL Became My True Love (Part I)
How MTL Became My True Love (Part II)
How MTL Became My Fiance
Enjoy!
Saturday, February 19, 2011
IT'S OFFICIAL!!!!
As of around eight o'clock tonight, in a dark corner by the tenth hole of the glow-in-the-dark putt-putt golf place where we went on our first date exactly one year ago:
 |
| Now (OMG OMG OMG) |
 |
| In 2-3 weeks (OMG OMG OMG) |
Friday, September 17, 2010
Taking the Transitional Step
I was admittedly terrified to take on a second child, way back when The Widget was born. I felt overwhelmed by one; how would I survive two?
It turned out better than I thought. In fact, once the two boys were old enough to truly interact, there were ways in which having two was easier than one. For one (rather major) thing, I wasn't the constant entertainment director any longer. They could keep each other occupied and happy for increasingly long periods of time, only requiring the occasional interference when laughs turned to screams.
But I was done with two. No more kids. Nada. Done. There was no way I could handle more kids than that.
When I started venturing out into the world of dating, however, I quickly realized that it was going to be a bad idea to date men with no children, for multiple reasons. Regardless of how casually I intended to date (ha! in hindsight), if casual turned to serious, I didn't want to get involved with a man who (1) would very likely want to have at least one biological child of his own someday and (2) may not have enough experience with children to deal very well with mine. So I limited myself to men with children. Or child. No big deal to take on maybe one kid someday, right? And this wasn't going to be anything that would happen any time soon.
And along came MTL. A man with three children, two of whom lived with him most of the time. A man with whom I found myself falling in love in no time flat, despite my (admittedly weak and rather brief) flailing about in resistance of fate.
I didn't fool him for a minute, actually. Damn his off-the-charts intuition.
So within a matter of a month or so I was practically living with him when not with my children. Which meant also living with his two oldest kids. And then I found myself ready to introduce him to my boys, something that spoke volumes about where I saw our relationship going. I dated Rebound Guy for several months without ever feeling it was right to introduce him to the boys. I wanted to introduce them to MTL after a couple of weeks, even though I held off a little longer.
And then I stopped even going through the motions of having more than one residence. On my custody days, the boys were with us. On those weekends, with KlutzGirl joining the crowd, there were seven of us crammed into a smallish two-bedroom glorified apartment.
Moving eased up on the crowding considerably--and of course The Dark One moving to her mother's even more so (sigh). But even when we were crowded, I found myself not only adapting to having so many children running about, I actually found myself enjoying it.
That's where I'm so damned surprised. I tell people I never planned this life, and that's the part that I'm really talking about. I could picture myself falling in love again someday, could picture myself remarrying, could picture a new life with a new man. I never pictured myself with all these kids running around. Much less finding so much fulfillment in it.
Because that's what I discovered this summer in particular, when I wasn't working and I took over running the majority of the household. I still don't think I could be a full-time Stay At Home Mom, but for the first time I started understanding how satisfying it can be, when done well. Apparently that's the kind of management I do well--I'm actually better at keeping track of all the Stuff To Be Done in the home than I am on my own damn desk at work (which is already overflowing with papers and books and detritus, a week and a half into things).
Here's the not-so-secret that you don't get until you're in a big family: Three really is easier than Two. Four is easier than Three. Five is a cake walk.
Sort of. There are logistical challenges, but because the kids (especially the four younger ones) interact like siblings already, I barely have to lift a finger to entertain. I even get massive assistance with feeding and tending the boys. I get more done in a day now with a larger family than I did when there were just the three of us.
And lo and behold: I ENJOYED it. I enjoyed making sure things were organized and clean and that the laundry was done and the kids got where they needed to go and the shopping was done and then taking the kids to the pool or the park or wherever. When the day ended and I collapsed on the couch to snuggle with MTL, I felt like I had done an honest day's work. It made me feel good to take care of my family.
It's what made a real difference for me in how I saw MTL's children, too. It helped that we moved to OUR home, yes. That meant I was no longer a sort-of guest. But being in that maternal managing position, having them all there so much more of the time, working and playing and talking with them day in and day out...I stopped seeing them as "his children" and more as "my stepchildren." By the end of the summer, I was referring to them as such. The Padawan straight up gave me permission to call him my stepson, and The Dark One did too (okay, as stepdaughter), though not in so many words. KlutzGirl had been dropping heavy-handed hints that she wanted me to be her stepmother for months, so that wasn't much of a leap.
We aren't legally married, MTL and I, so I don't have that legal position. But I've stopped even putting the words "practically" or "sort-of" or whatever in front of "step." It's how I see myself, and it's how I see them.
With all the stepped-in, step-it-up, step-on-it craziness that entails.
It turned out better than I thought. In fact, once the two boys were old enough to truly interact, there were ways in which having two was easier than one. For one (rather major) thing, I wasn't the constant entertainment director any longer. They could keep each other occupied and happy for increasingly long periods of time, only requiring the occasional interference when laughs turned to screams.
But I was done with two. No more kids. Nada. Done. There was no way I could handle more kids than that.
When I started venturing out into the world of dating, however, I quickly realized that it was going to be a bad idea to date men with no children, for multiple reasons. Regardless of how casually I intended to date (ha! in hindsight), if casual turned to serious, I didn't want to get involved with a man who (1) would very likely want to have at least one biological child of his own someday and (2) may not have enough experience with children to deal very well with mine. So I limited myself to men with children. Or child. No big deal to take on maybe one kid someday, right? And this wasn't going to be anything that would happen any time soon.
And along came MTL. A man with three children, two of whom lived with him most of the time. A man with whom I found myself falling in love in no time flat, despite my (admittedly weak and rather brief) flailing about in resistance of fate.
I didn't fool him for a minute, actually. Damn his off-the-charts intuition.
So within a matter of a month or so I was practically living with him when not with my children. Which meant also living with his two oldest kids. And then I found myself ready to introduce him to my boys, something that spoke volumes about where I saw our relationship going. I dated Rebound Guy for several months without ever feeling it was right to introduce him to the boys. I wanted to introduce them to MTL after a couple of weeks, even though I held off a little longer.
And then I stopped even going through the motions of having more than one residence. On my custody days, the boys were with us. On those weekends, with KlutzGirl joining the crowd, there were seven of us crammed into a smallish two-bedroom glorified apartment.
Moving eased up on the crowding considerably--and of course The Dark One moving to her mother's even more so (sigh). But even when we were crowded, I found myself not only adapting to having so many children running about, I actually found myself enjoying it.
That's where I'm so damned surprised. I tell people I never planned this life, and that's the part that I'm really talking about. I could picture myself falling in love again someday, could picture myself remarrying, could picture a new life with a new man. I never pictured myself with all these kids running around. Much less finding so much fulfillment in it.
Because that's what I discovered this summer in particular, when I wasn't working and I took over running the majority of the household. I still don't think I could be a full-time Stay At Home Mom, but for the first time I started understanding how satisfying it can be, when done well. Apparently that's the kind of management I do well--I'm actually better at keeping track of all the Stuff To Be Done in the home than I am on my own damn desk at work (which is already overflowing with papers and books and detritus, a week and a half into things).
Here's the not-so-secret that you don't get until you're in a big family: Three really is easier than Two. Four is easier than Three. Five is a cake walk.
Sort of. There are logistical challenges, but because the kids (especially the four younger ones) interact like siblings already, I barely have to lift a finger to entertain. I even get massive assistance with feeding and tending the boys. I get more done in a day now with a larger family than I did when there were just the three of us.
And lo and behold: I ENJOYED it. I enjoyed making sure things were organized and clean and that the laundry was done and the kids got where they needed to go and the shopping was done and then taking the kids to the pool or the park or wherever. When the day ended and I collapsed on the couch to snuggle with MTL, I felt like I had done an honest day's work. It made me feel good to take care of my family.
It's what made a real difference for me in how I saw MTL's children, too. It helped that we moved to OUR home, yes. That meant I was no longer a sort-of guest. But being in that maternal managing position, having them all there so much more of the time, working and playing and talking with them day in and day out...I stopped seeing them as "his children" and more as "my stepchildren." By the end of the summer, I was referring to them as such. The Padawan straight up gave me permission to call him my stepson, and The Dark One did too (okay, as stepdaughter), though not in so many words. KlutzGirl had been dropping heavy-handed hints that she wanted me to be her stepmother for months, so that wasn't much of a leap.
We aren't legally married, MTL and I, so I don't have that legal position. But I've stopped even putting the words "practically" or "sort-of" or whatever in front of "step." It's how I see myself, and it's how I see them.
With all the stepped-in, step-it-up, step-on-it craziness that entails.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Lots Of Mush, But No BS
It's a bit hard for me to write about him online. Not because I don't have the words--they overflow, seriously; I could write a treatise on him and how I feel about him--but because it would just sound so damn mushy and starry-eyed and crap. And I think it could come across as naive and fake, as though I am some twitterpated fool due for a very rude awakening when Real Life comes into play.
Not that I don't have my twitterpated moments. I'll admit to that.
I have a friend, a dear friend, who although she is very happy for me and really rather convinced that MTL and I are the real thing, worries that we have rushed things. I can see her point, even though I personally feel we've done things at the right pace for us. Because normally? If this was someone else? Hell yeah, I'd be sitting there going What the hell do you think you're doing???
There are times when I'm also rather insane. In a good way.
(We're going to overlook that little episode back a year and a half ago, okay?)
(No, really. ALL BETTER NOW.)
We openly admit that our story is a crazy one. It's not "normal," though if you can tell me what "normal" is these days I'd be interested in hearing your theory.
But then, "normal" is also boring.
We're also nowhere near perfect. That WOULD be a foolish lie.
Besides, "perfect" is boring too.
We've already been in the trenches a goodish bit, MTL and I. Linear time says we've barely known each other. Seven months, really. Seven months last week since we first started emailing and texting. Seven months yesterday that we had our first phone conversation. Seven months this coming Sunday since our first date.
Yes, really. That's it. Seven months.
It feels like years. And not in the oh my god I've known you forever and you're just a habit sort of years.
(Been there. Done that.)
It's as though there's a part of me that has always known him. There's a core there that formed so quickly that even when surprises do come along (and oh yes, they do come along), there's a deep knowledge that the foundation is solid.
We aren't the same people, though we have huge amounts in common. We are most definitely individuals, with our own strengths and weaknesses and opinions and points of view and interests. But more often than not there's a balance there. Rather than being identical, we're...well, we're like puzzle pieces. We fit into the same area. Our edges click and fit. Our images, so to speak, blend together. But we have our variations. If we were identical, then we'd just be the same piece to different puzzles. Instead, we're our own parts of the same bigger picture.
How else do I say this? How do I explain how even in moments of stress or disagreement or even anger, there's a connection there I've never had before? That there's a sense of wholeness? That every time I see him or talk to him or hug him or lie next to him or even just see words on a screen that he typed from wherever he is--it's like coming home.
You see what I mean? MUSH.
I never knew this is what Love and Relationship was supposed to be. This partnership. This give and take. This solid ground from which the storms of life are faced, not without being moved, but without being broken.
I don't use the name My True Love lightly. It's not just a label I gave him on a whim.
I know not everyone's story is the same. And that doesn't mean they are better or worse than we are. Just different. I also know that seven months ago I met the man with whom I will spend my life, and I am richly blessed. So much more than words will ever say.
Not that I don't have my twitterpated moments. I'll admit to that.
I have a friend, a dear friend, who although she is very happy for me and really rather convinced that MTL and I are the real thing, worries that we have rushed things. I can see her point, even though I personally feel we've done things at the right pace for us. Because normally? If this was someone else? Hell yeah, I'd be sitting there going What the hell do you think you're doing???
There are times when I'm also rather insane. In a good way.
(We're going to overlook that little episode back a year and a half ago, okay?)
(No, really. ALL BETTER NOW.)
We openly admit that our story is a crazy one. It's not "normal," though if you can tell me what "normal" is these days I'd be interested in hearing your theory.
But then, "normal" is also boring.
We're also nowhere near perfect. That WOULD be a foolish lie.
Besides, "perfect" is boring too.
We've already been in the trenches a goodish bit, MTL and I. Linear time says we've barely known each other. Seven months, really. Seven months last week since we first started emailing and texting. Seven months yesterday that we had our first phone conversation. Seven months this coming Sunday since our first date.
Yes, really. That's it. Seven months.
It feels like years. And not in the oh my god I've known you forever and you're just a habit sort of years.
(Been there. Done that.)
It's as though there's a part of me that has always known him. There's a core there that formed so quickly that even when surprises do come along (and oh yes, they do come along), there's a deep knowledge that the foundation is solid.
We aren't the same people, though we have huge amounts in common. We are most definitely individuals, with our own strengths and weaknesses and opinions and points of view and interests. But more often than not there's a balance there. Rather than being identical, we're...well, we're like puzzle pieces. We fit into the same area. Our edges click and fit. Our images, so to speak, blend together. But we have our variations. If we were identical, then we'd just be the same piece to different puzzles. Instead, we're our own parts of the same bigger picture.
How else do I say this? How do I explain how even in moments of stress or disagreement or even anger, there's a connection there I've never had before? That there's a sense of wholeness? That every time I see him or talk to him or hug him or lie next to him or even just see words on a screen that he typed from wherever he is--it's like coming home.
You see what I mean? MUSH.
I never knew this is what Love and Relationship was supposed to be. This partnership. This give and take. This solid ground from which the storms of life are faced, not without being moved, but without being broken.
I don't use the name My True Love lightly. It's not just a label I gave him on a whim.
I know not everyone's story is the same. And that doesn't mean they are better or worse than we are. Just different. I also know that seven months ago I met the man with whom I will spend my life, and I am richly blessed. So much more than words will ever say.
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