Living Happily Ever After
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Weather

Date: December 30, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I was born in a land of palm trees (California) in the summertime and I’ve always loved warmth. Count me absolutely willing to live in a climate that doesn’t snow, yet I have lived most of my life in climates that snow. (My mom loved the change of seasons, so our family eventually settled in Colorado; my first husband hated hot weather and loved autumn so I lived in Colorado as an adult, too.) I guess you don’t always get to choose the environment you have the opportunity to bloom in.

Lately I’ve experienced not just cold, but some very unusual winter weather. Sure, Utah’s had snow, but I’ve been amazed at the rain! SO MUCH rain. The other day I walked out my front door to a giant puddle of slush (literally) that was my front yard. Today everything is icy—the trunk of my car is frozen shut, I can scrape ice off the inside of my car windows and the ground is icy underneath fresh snow. You never know what you’re going to get for weather in the Rocky Mountains.

Kind of like life.

“Weather is a great metaphor for life. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, and there’s nothing much you can do about it but carry an umbrella.” (Terri Guillemets) The umbrella of optimism and a positive attitude, to be exact.

I’ve learned for myself that every life, every difficulty, every type of “weather,” has it’s own unique opportunities.

“Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.” (John Ruskin)

It’s all in how you choose to look at it. And it’s about what you do with it—what you choose to create out of the challenges you’re blessed to weather in your unexpected life.

“Climate is what we expect, weather is what we get.” (Mark Twain)

Purse

Date: December 29, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I love handbags. So does my daughter. In fact, yesterday she spent a gift card she got for Christmas from #5 and bought herself a new purse! Metallic silver, ruffled, super stylish–if she doesn’t watch out, her mom may be tempted to borrow it. It’s as cute as any purse I’ve ever seen, including silk ones.

Which reminds me: you’ve heard the expression regarding making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear?

I like to think of it as making the best from what you’ve got to work with. Choosing to create something to enhance your experience out of something not so desirable. Like what we each must do in an unexpected life.

Although, “One disadvantage of being a hog is that at any moment some blundering fool may try to make a silk purse out of your wife’s ear.” (J.B. Morton)

Passion for purses aside, I’m thinking I should be thankful #5 is fit, trim and very unlike a hog…and that I’m not quite his wife yet, huh?

Some time in 2011.

Stay tuned.

Slogans For The Unexpected Life

Date: December 26, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

During the holidays, #5 and I played a game with some of our children. In one round, we had to name campaign slogans. As I listened to the slogans, I was struck by what a great motto for The Unexpected Life each campaign could be.

Be All That You Can Be.

Just Do It.

Thrive.

You’ve Come A Long Way, Baby. (Shared by #5.)

As soon as he said that, it got me thinking about my life and my little family. I was overwhelmed and amazed by how far we’ve come in one year. Just since last Christmas. What a difference 365 days makes!

Last Christmas, 2009, was the first Christmas of our unexpected life. I was trying so hard to heal, to help my children make it through their unexpected challenge, trying to adjust to working full-time, and to hold on physically, emotionally, financially and in every other way, for all of us, back then. So I put on a brave face, tried to keep a few traditions and took my children to see Santa Claus one Saturday morning.

Santa chatted with each of my children but caught me completely off-guard when he had me sit by him, looked me in the eye, and asked, “What do you want for Christmas, Mom?”

I panicked. Did he know who I was? Did he know I was single? Did he know what a loser I had turned out to be, starting over in life, in every possible way, at 42? It had been years since Santa had asked me something like that! I wasn’t prepared with an answer. But for some reason, maybe because I felt so alone and literally was alone for the first time in my life, I took his query seriously. My mind raced with thoughts of everything I needed—courage; confidence; optimism; hope; anonymity; a life; emotional comfort; laughter; bravery; endurance; happiness; real smiles; joy, peace; and of course, money (those were the days when I couldn’t seem to get a break, I lived in shock and fallout from the trauma 24/7)—and because I’d been trained to only ask Santa Claus for one thing, without censoring my response I replied, “Peace. I would love to have peace.”

I don’t think Santa was expecting that. Yet he must have sensed the desperation I felt inside to share something like that with a total stranger, though the stranger be Santa’s helper, because he looked me in the eye, gave me a compassionate, soft smile, took my hand in his large, white gloved hand, and calmly and quietly told me to hold on, peace would come. He sat there for just a second, looking into my eyes, smiling and then patted my knee, offered me a See’s Candy lollipop and sent me on my way.

I walked away from my encounter with S. Claus uplifted. It was another one of those “Only in Utah” moments for me. (As in, only in Utah…would a shopping mall Santa Claus take time for you, despite a long line of believers and children, to give you a spiritual message!) I left his little village filled with hope, not just for the holiday but for my life. I believed Santa was right; someday it, peace, would come to me again. I was counting on that. I just had to hold on.

But that Christmas Eve, when the house was dark and quiet and I was up all alone late at night making my few small Christmas preparations for my children, the reality of my unexpected life hit me. Again. In that moment I was a little overwhelmed by my continued struggle to embrace a new life that was mine, but that I didn’t believe I had done anything to deserve and I still wasn’t sure I wanted! I’d do a little Christmas, then go up to my room, alone, and cry for a few minutes. Then I’d pull myself together, go down by the Christmas tree, do a little more Christmas, then go up to my room, alone, and cry. It was the pattern of a newly divorced, single mother, getting through her first Christmas. Alone.

After the holidays, #5 checked in with me to see how my “first Christmas” went. I can’t believe I told him the truth—that it was good overall, but that I’d had some unexpected sad moments too. He empathized, gave me some words of encouragement, asked me out for another date and the rest is…recorded in this blog.

However, Christmas 2010 was a completely different scene.

I took my kids to see Santa again, but this year he didn’t even ask me what I wanted. Maybe he could tell I have every important thing I need, especially peace. And Christmas Eve, although the house was dark and quiet, I wasn’t alone. I had #5 helping me with Christmas preparations. On Christmas Day, we had all eight of our children together. As I sat by #5, watching all of the kids talk, laugh, joke and enjoy being together, I felt such contentment and joy. It felt like family. It is our family. Everything is right in my world again. Different than what I had expected, as usual, but right.

I couldn’t help but think that had I only known last year what was in store for me this year, it would have been a heck of a lot easier to get through last year! Had I only known last year, what this year would be like, I wouldn’t have felt alone or felt sad at all. But that is just one more beauty and character-building aspect of life: the not knowing; and choosing to carry on anyway.

Striving to be all that you can be.

Just doing it.

Learning to thrive in whatever situation you find yourself in.

And acknowledging, occasionally, just how far you’ve come.

What you do with your unexpected life is your slogan.

“Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan ‘press on’ has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.” (Calvin Coolidge)

It’s Grand

Date: December 23, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“A man begins cutting his wisdom teeth the first time he bites off more than he can chew.” (Herb Caen)

Sometimes we bite off more than we can chew through choices we make and sometimes we’re thrust into overwhelming situations through no choice of our own that can leave our jaws flapping! That’s the unexpected life, regardless of how it comes. But I can’t emphasize this aspect enough: if we handle it right, we gain valuable life experience, we learn important lessons and we increase in wisdom. And we can do great things with what we’ve learned.

Like Walt Disney, who rose above his own setbacks to create a magical legacy and impact millions even after he was gone: “All the adversity I’ve had in my life, all my troubles and obstacles, have strengthened me… You may not realize it when it happens, but a kick in the teeth may be the best thing in the world for you.” (Walt Disney)

Speaking of wisdom and teeth, my daughter had her’s removed a few days ago. Prior to her surgery, the oral surgeon walked into the room, looked at me and asked, “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”

I replied, “No.”

He looked puzzled, stared at me and said, “Really? You look so familiar. I am trying to figure out where I’ve seen you. I’m just sure I have met you before.”

I joked that I have blonde hair, blue eyes and we live in the state of Utah where it seems like the majority of the state’s residents look like I do, so no surprise that I look familiar. He laughed and walked out of the room to get what he needed to begin the procedure on my daughter. When the door closed, I realized how far we’ve come…and yet how some things haven’t changed much.

When the door clicked shut, the first words out of my daughter’s mouth were, “Mom! You’ve GOT to be kidding me! Don’t tell me you dated HIM too?” (That’s the part that hasn’t changed!)

Yet I realized how far we’ve come when it dawned on me after the doctor had left the room (and after I had defended myself against my daughter’s accusation—and for the record, NO, I did not date that doctor!) that when he commented that I looked familiar, I didn’t cringe; I didn’t inwardly cower in fear that he might have seen me in the media, connected to a crime I had no part of (other than that I happened to be married to the man who perpetrated the crime.) Honestly, and surprisingly, for maybe the first time in my unexpected life, that hadn’t even crossed my mind—it was almost as if I’d forgotten about it and hadn’t even realized I’d forgotten, that’s how natural the process of forgetting, aka. healing, has become.  I was sure I seemed familiar to him because I live in a state where a large percentage of the population descends from Scandinavian immigrants!

Apparently, I’ve developed something. Unexpected amnesia, occasionally, regarding the trauma that led to my unexpected life. I anticipate as we move further and further from 2009, I’ll forget what led to my new opportunities more and more. As Robert Louis Stevenson said, “I’ve a grand memory for forgetting.”

And isn’t THAT grand?

A Holiday Opportunity

Date: December 21, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman
“Problems can become opportunities when the right people come together.” (Robert South) 

Last week my youngest refused to participate in his preschool Christmas program. As it was our last opportunity to experience a preschool Christmas program, we were disappointed. But it’s amazing how problems can become opportunities, based on how you choose to look at them and react to them.

Just three days after that huge disappointment at our house, Bachelor #5 took us to a Christmas caroling party he attends each year with his friends. Every person there (but me and my children) were members of The Mormon Tabernacle Choir, past and present cast members of the L.D.S. church production, “Savior of The World,” or actors and singers from other shows/theaters. Singing with that group was quite an opportunity. To be honest, I’d never heard a caroling group sound so good. It was fun to join them in sharing the spirit of the season with others through music.

The biggest surprise was my youngest. Despite refusing to participate in his school musical program the week before, he merrily led the caroling group that night! Songbook tucked under his arm, he enthusiastically climbed each step, entered each home and sang his little heart out to each and every person. He absolutely loved the experience! I guess he just needed the right people to do it with—no holiday costumes or four-year-olds for him. Apparently he required professionals!

The next night, for our weekly family night, Bachelor #5 took us to a local senior center as he volunteered his time singing and playing Christmas music for the residents there. While the rest of us quietly watched the performance, my youngest unexpectedly joined #5 on stage. He walked to the front of the crowd without hesitation, sat in front of them, facing the audience, and began singing along! When the song ended, he wasn’t ready to quit. So he walked to the piano, sat on the bench beside #5 and sang a few songs with him into the microphone. WHERE did that urge come from?

After the program, he wished the seniors a “Merry Christmas” and hugged a few grandmas before we left. A completely different experience than the week before. Very unexpected. But just like life, a problem became an opportunity, with the right people in place to help him make it so.

This holiday I’m reminded of many good people who have helped our family. Thank you to everyone, past and present, who has been there for me and my little family amid some very unexpected difficulties. Each of you, our friends, helped us create a happy, new life of opportunity out of our challenges.

What a difference you made to us.

“We must not, in trying to think about how we can make a big difference, ignore the small daily differences we can make which, over time, add up to big differences that we often cannot foresee.” (Marian Wright Edelman)

All We Want To Do Is…Dance!

Date: December 20, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“There is a strong chance that siblings who turn out well were hassled by the same parents.” (Robert Brault)

When my unexpected life hit, there were many uncertainties. Correction: almost everything was a question mark for me. The only thing I knew for certain, in fact, was that I was going to do what was best for my children. That has been my goal since I became a parent (for the first time, in April 1993), and thankfully, has remained my focus since March 18, 2009.

How you go about accomplishing that, however, is THE feat. In my opinion, there are a lot of contradictions. For example, not one solution is best for all of my children all of the time. So I have had to base my decisions on what is best for the majority.  Sometimes I have to base them on individual need, who needs a certain solution the most.

Years ago, I attended a speech by an impressive parenting expert who advised that if you want to raise good children, give them plenty of doses of Vitamin “N”—no; plenty of “character building” experiences. Another child rearing specialist told me that as a parent you should say “yes” as much as you can, so that when you have to say “no” it will be more impactful to your children. See what I mean about contradictions?

I guess that’s life.

And true to life, my parenting, itself, has a lot of its own contradictions as well.  For example, I’m a fan of humor and laughter. It lightens things up when they need it, it’s cleansing and it also makes things a lot more fun! At our house, we laugh a lot. And right or wrong, I even try to use humor in discipline. I try to correct my children, when I can, with a wink or a joke before things get too out of control and serious. As part of this weird parenting approach, there is also the “consequence” of dancing.

We love to dance at our house. Family dance parties are not unusual. And for some reason, whether we live in Colorado or Utah, they usually take place in the kitchen! One day I realized how much I enjoyed dancing with my kids and how much I hated having to be the “bad guy”/administrator of the consequences of wrong choices. I was struck with a brilliant thought. I decided to get a little creative (after all, I AM the mother of my children) and combined the two. At my house, if you make a wrong choice, watch out.  You may have to dance a solo for your mother, and she gets to pick the song! That worked well for several years, but then I felt my kids started enjoying dancing too much. So I had to change tactics. The new rule? If my son messed up, his consequence was that he had to watch ME dance! (Coincidentally, that son has hardly ever needed correction! Brilliant mothering, if I do say so myself. One dance performance from his mother, and that is all it took to keep him on the straight and narrow: choose the right or be mentally scarred for life. No question my son was going to make good choices:)

He has grown into a fine young man.

With great rhythm.

And you should see his dance moves!

The Glamor of Performing

Date: December 16, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I don’t enjoy public performances and being up on a stage. I don’t enjoy the glamour. Like tonight, I am up on stage and my feet hurt.” (Barbra Streisand)

Speaking of the public performances on a stage, tonight I had the opportunity to attend the Christmas program at my youngest child’s preschool. I had high expectations—it was the last such program of my last child, and last year’s program had been a bust. (I had been recently divorced, was new to the area, was completely reeling from the shock of so much life change in such a short amount of time, was REALLY feeling my aloneness and was, of course, all alone at my son’s Christmas program.

But I went and tried to make the best of it. He was dressed festively, I had the video camera ready, I was doing a pretty good job ignoring the fact that everyone in attendance seemed to be married and there with family…there was just one problem. My son wanted nothing to do with performing on stage. He left the stage before the first number was even over, cried, wandered around the room and eventually out of the room, during the performance. I was disappointed, mortified, stressed out and a host of other emotions.

As the sole and single parent of four children, there is never enough of me to go around. If I attend one child’s function, I miss another child’s activity. Every time. And last year, apparently for nothing, I missed one of my other children’s events to let the youngest have his experience. Too bad it was a bust.

I’d NEVER had a child pull something like that! But I cut my 4-year-old some slack and blamed it on all of the trauma he’d lived through in his little life and we carried on.

Cut to 2010.  I anticipated a VERY different experience at this year’s program. I wasn’t alone, Bachelor #5 went to great lengths to join us. My son was a year older and a year past the trauma. (The only thing the same as last year was that to support my youngest’s performance, I had to miss my daughter’s winter dance concert at her high school.)

We arrived early. My son marched up to the stage, found his seat and acted happy to be there. He tried on all of his costume props. He helped the teachers. And then, before the performance even began, he was already finished and ready to go home. In fact, he left the stage to tell me that. And I advised him to return to his seat because we were there for his performance.

He returned to his seat, and less than two minutes later was back. This time, with a medical excuse. “Mom, I just threw up in my mouth. We need to go home.”

I knew he wasn’t sick, so I instructed him to return to the stage. He moaned, cried, fussed, complained…and left the room right as the performance began. He wouldn’t come back, so after watching half of the program (without my son’s participation) we  finally left.

What a performance. A bust—two years in a row!

In all my years of child raising, I’ve never encountered a child like my youngest.

“Before I got married I had six theories about bringing up children; now I have six children, and no theories.” (John Wilmot)

The bright side? At least he was wearing underwear.

“Simper ubi sub ubi.” (“Always wear underwear,” Andrew Rdings)

But that’s a blogpost for another day.

What Miracle Is Wrought

Date: December 15, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Don’t rush me sonny. You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles.” (“The Princess Bride”)

Not long ago, I was reviewing my unexpected life; pondering all that has happened and the many miracles I have received since March 18, 2009. There have been many.

Although, it’s funny what you become accustomed to. For awhile, my situation was so desperate I was blessed with huge miracle after miracle. They almost became “the norm!” Then I realized it had been awhile since I’d experienced a jaw dropping miracle so I thought, “That must be a sign that I’m healing and things are getting back to normal. I guess I must not need many big miracles any more.” (And I admit there was a tiny part of me that was sad miracles, for me, had ceased. I felt like I still needed a little help!)

I should have known better.  ”Miracles happen everyday, change your perception of what a miracle is and you’ll see them all around you.” (Jon Bon Jovi)

The other day, one of my cute, single college student co-workers shared a miracle she received with me: someone purchased a plane ticket for her to fly to visit her family at Christmas. She was so touched, and so grateful, she felt like crying! I was happy for her, and full of gratitude and admiration for whoever made that possible for my friend.

It made me think about miracles I’ve received. For example, that my children and I have remained healthy and safe the past 21 months is a miracle. That we have wonderful old and new friends that bless our lives is a miracle. That I got a job in a tough economy after not working for 19 years is a miracle. That I survived two corporate down sizings, and kept my job, is a miracle. And last but not least, not only did Bachelor #5 arrive in our lives, but that he continues to hang in there with me during an engagement much longer than either of us anticipated as we prepare to marry some time in 2011 and blend two families and eight children is also a miracle!

I could go on and on.

I receive miracles every day; but I’m overwhelmed by tender mercies lately. The following have all come to me THIS month:

As mentioned earlier, my neighbor fixed my car. It was a blessing to have it repaired. And of course, it goes without saying that each time we drive it, we continue to be grateful for functioning windows and a warm driving experience!

I got a little bonus at my work Christmas party last week, which will allow me to purchase Christmas gifts for each of my children.

Two issues that have plagued me since my spouse revealed his Ponzi scheme and crimes, were finally resolved. THAT is a miracle.

We got to see a current movie in a theater (AND buy treats!), courtesy of a Denver man who saw the NBC-affiliate news story that ran on our family and he contacted us with words of encouragement–and a gift card to a movie theater so we could enjoy a movie as a family! It was the first time we’ve been able to do that since our unexpected life began and it was a thrill! In fact, I don’t think my youngest remembers ever seeing a movie in a theater. Current movies in real theaters are one of those “luxuries” that aren’t in our family budget any more. The man said that although throwing rocks is fun, so are movies, and he is right! What a great start to our holiday season.

I guess the season for miracles in my life is not over.

And I realize that it never is.

For any one.

Regardless of which end of the miracle you’re on.

“When we do the best that we can, we never know what miracle is wrought in our life, or in the life of another.” (Helen Keller)

Hold Your Breath And Hope

Date: December 14, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“When my kids become wild and unruly, I use a nice, safe playpen.  When they’re finished, I climb out.” (Erma Bombeck)

I was running late for work yesterday, trying to hustle my youngest along in his morning routine, our departure delayed by the fact he couldn’t find any shoes. It’s a problem for him all too often–he leaves his shoes everywhere! (Just ask my patient neighbors who occasionally deliver grocery sacks full of shoes to our front door that my youngest has left around the neighborhood as he visits everyone.)

I dashed to his room and rummaged around in all the dark corners, treading delicately on a carpet of Legos that seem to be competing with the cut and twisted Berber carpeting as the flooring of choice in his bedroom, but no luck. No shoes.

I finally located a pair of orange flip flops, absolutely ideal for Utah’s winter weather, he put them on and off he headed to daycare.

December 13, in orange summer slippers!

Just my luck, it was a preschool day as well, so his school AND the daycare staff were going to witness my campaign for Mother of the Year. (Yeah, right. “Special” Mother of the Year, maybe!)

As I went to load him in the car, I realized he hadn’t eaten breakfast. So I ran back in to the house to make him a piece of toast. Unbeknownst to me, he unbuckled, followed me back in the house, and refused the piece of toast when it was ready. He was insistent on a hot breakfast. Nothing microwaved. Something prepared on the stove.

I was already late, so I took 5 minutes more and whipped up something hot, belted him in his car seat again, and told him to eat while I drove. I quickly dropped him at daycare and headed to work. After I arrived at work, 30 minutes later, in another city, I looked down and saw his jacket sitting on the seat beside me.

“How did that get there?” I wondered. I’d seen my son walk into his daycare wearing that very garment earlier. And then it hit me: in my haste I’d held on to his jacket when I took it off him at daycare, had carried it to the car and had driven it to work with me!

December 13. Orange flip flops. And (now) no coat.

After working all day I got in my car for the commute home and noticed, for the first time, my son’s school backpack sitting on the front seat of my car. “How did that get there?” I wondered. I remembered I had specifically carried it in to daycare that morning…and must have carried it right back out to the car with me and took it to work too!

December 13. Orange flip flops. No coat. No backpack for preschool.

Is there even a competition for mothers like me?

I doubt it.

At daycare, as I reached in my purse to get a pen to sign my son out, guess what I found? A pair of his shoes!

In my purse.

I hadn’t even known they were there.

“Like all parents, my husband and I just do the best we can, hold our breath and hope we’ve set aside enough money for our kid’s therapy.” (Michelle Pfeiffer)

Believe me, I’m holding my breath and hoping, too!

Just Say Yes

Date: December 13, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.” (Joseph Campbell)

Because you never know where you’re going to find it. Case in point: my 10-year-old’s football team party to celebrate their season.

It took place in Utah County over the weekend. Due to a prior commitment, I was unable to attend so I asked my oldest to take his brother to the party. He didn’t go unwillingly, yet it probably wasn’t the thing he wanted most to do on a Saturday night.  (I can’t blame him, he’s a senior in high school. I’m sure he had more “mature” plans.) I reminded him to look upon each opportunity as an adventure.

So he went. Anticipating an ordinary team celebration. But instead, texted me after they arrived at the address for the team party with this message:  ”I’m in Larry King’s house!” (Yes, THE Larry King, of “Larry King Live.” Apparently, he has a connection to Utah and a home here.)

My boys had planned on enjoying a fun evening, spent with a football team comprised of 5th grade boys. What they got, instead, was that and a whole lot more: a rare brush with “celebrity” and the opportunity to do something out of the ordinary.

I could only ask this of my sons when they arrived home: “Aren’t you glad you said, ‘Yes?’ Aren’t you glad you went to the party?”

Life is kind of like that. You wake up every morning, face each new day and often, never imagine what great albeit unexpected opportunities will have been yours by the time you go to sleep that evening.

Just say, “Yes.”

And you’ll be guaranteed some memorable moments.

“He’s had his ups and down. Now, it’s lately been nothing but ups.” (Larry King)