Living Happily Ever After
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Such a Sappy Mom

Date: September 24, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I’m a sappy mom now. I didn’t think I would be. I thought I’d be a cool mom who keeps everything in perspective.” (Katherine Heigl)

Not me! I’m such a sappy mom I had to step away from this blog for almost 3 months to get some perspective! And even when I did return, I couldn’t blog about the reason for my absence the first few posts. What  in the world happened? My oldest left home.

For real.

Yah, sure, he went “away” to college last year (as in lived in the dorms of Brigham Young University so he could have the complete college experience) but I live 20 minutes away and could drive by his dorm and look at the window of the room he lived in whenever I wanted, talk to him on the phone, text, help with his laundry, see and feed him once each week at Sunday dinner and ask him for help when I needed him. All of which I did.

But no more. And now that the Band-Aid of his departure has been ripped off what seemed like emotional millimeter after emotional millimeter, and my heart has had 3 months to heal, I’m ready to talk about it. Or at least explain why I haven’t been around: my son, Elder Merriman, is serving a two-year Christian mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And although his missionary service is something I believe in and raised him to do, it didn’t make it any easier for this sappy mother to let him go.

I cried every time I even thought about him leaving. Even the day before he left when we were packing up his bedroom and had one of our infamous and impromptu dance parties, I broke with tradition and bawled while busting my finest moves, the memory of which had to last two years. My missionary son said, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Don’t EVEN tell  me you’re crying again!” But I was.

Thankfully, I’ve got the sap under control these days. Now I live for Wednesdays, the one day each week when Elder Merriman is able to take time out of his busy missionary labors to contact home and let us know what he’s been up to during his current assignment in the Canary Islands. Every week’s report is filled with a new adventure, fun fact of information I didn’t know before, or a growing experience; I’m so grateful he is where he is, doing what he is doing. (I just don’t think about the fact that last time I saw him in person was June 20, 2012 and the next time I’ll see him, in person, will be some time in June 2014! I don’t need THAT MUCH reality or perspective! Lol.)

What a privilege has been mine to to be a mother. What a joy that son, now Elder Merriman, has been every day of his life. (Despite a few moments isolated moments in 7th grade during his long hair and “skater” phase where his, or my, behavior may have given the illusion of something to the contrary! Lol.)

Love your kids.

And if you have a child, and if you have the good fortune to see them in person or to be with them today, give them a hug. From you, their mother…and from me.

“Son, you outgrew my lap, but never my heart.” (Unknown)

 

 

 

 

 

 

House Rules

Date: March 21, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“If you develop rules, never have more than ten.” (Donald Rumsfeld)

I’ve been asked to share my house rules. By request, here they are.

1. Family first. This means family first, friends second and family takes priority. We love each other and will seek to spend time with each other to make happy memories and strengthen our bonds for the future.

2. Participate in family meals, unless at work, school or church activity, because studies show families that eat regular meals together have more successful children. Please keep all food and drink, except water, confined to the kitchen area.

3. Be respectful of one another, communicate without yelling or profanity, strive to be cheerful, kind and pleasant. No slamming of doors, borrowing without asking, stealing–and please clean up after yourself (leave no trace!) Remove shoes upon entering our home.

4. Honor curfew because “after midnight you’re on the devil’s time.”  (That’s what my parents always told me, and my grandparents taught them.) No sleepovers, instead you may participate in “late nights.”

5. Attend church on Sunday, mid-week church activities, participate in church recognition programs.

6. Music, movies and video games are to be family appropriate. No “R” ratings. No internet use without a “buddy” when parents aren’t home.

7. No alcohol, cigarettes, drugs or their usage in the home or out of the home. Family members will submit to drug testing at the parents’ discretion.

8. Practice the life skills that ensure self-reliance: 1. emotional health (family members will go to counseling at the parents’ discretion); 2. financial health (don’t go into debt, eat at home as much as possible, pay 10% tithing, children save 50% of their earnings for college, parents will provide opportunities to develop talents as financially able, no allowance given–everyone is required to help with tasks around the house as it takes every family member to keep our family functioning and our home running smoothly); 3. physical health (eat at home as much as possible–not only is it cheaper, it’s healthier, go to bed at the appropriate time for your age established by parents, stay active); 4. get an education (your job is to focus on your education and learn all you can and do what you need to do to earn good grades); 5. work (everyone of age to work will have a job).

Clearly, “There are some good rules and there are some lousy rules.” (Harold Pinter)

But that’s life at our house.

And here’s the philosophy behind the rules:

Parenting is no popularity contest. As a parent, it’s my job to do everything I can to help my children be successful living our family rules which in turn will prepare them to be successful adults and enjoy happy and successful lives.

My efforts are based on my belief that basic needs (love, food and shelter) are a child’s right and I’m happy to provide them. But I believe everything else is a privilege and must be earned as children prove themselves through their obedience and performance (i.e.. their obedience to our family rules, academic performance, a good attitude, self-control, good behavior and good choices that show they are trustworthy, successful at enjoying their current level of freedom and privileges and are ready to attempt to be successful at the next level.)

Wrong choices, disobedience and setbacks based on behavior and poor choices result in consequences. I hate letting children experience consequences! As a person, I think it’s miserable to have to refrain from helping my children out of their troubles and as a parent, it’s painful to watch, but because I love them I have to allow them to learn from their mistakes. I think it’s the only way to help them learn to be successful. (And I’d much rather have them “fail” while they’re young, than continue to fail as adults because they didn’t learn what they needed to. I’d much rather have them get an “F” in elementary school for not doing their work, than have them lose a job as an adult because they weren’t doing their work.)

My parenting is somewhat based on love and logic. (My thanks to Jim Fay and Foster Kline, proponents of “Love and Logic.”) There are rules and expectations and there are consequences, consequences that will bring happiness and privileges when children make the right choices and other consequences should they choose disobedience.

My children have some input as to their consequences. For example, if they don’t clean their room possible consequences (some brainstormed/chosen by me, some chosen by them) include: temporarily losing their bedroom door until the room is tidy again, me coming in with a trash bag and collecting all of the mess into the sack and then they have to earn things back item by item by doing small extra jobs for me, me helping them clean their room and in return working extra time for me for the same amount of time I spent helping them do their job, or being “grounded” to their room until the work is done. I try to have the consequence connect to the choice. The key is to provide consequences both of us can live with and to providing more than one option/consequence so they have a choice. I also always try to have one of the consequences be a ridiculous option that makes them laugh, if I can.

And because I think there is far too little of people taking credit for their choices in life (it seems like everyone always wants to blame someone else), I’ve always made it a priority to teach personal responsibility as well. I want my kids to own their mistakes and not seek to blame others for their misfortune. When my oldest was little and experienced a time out he began to accuse, “YOU are doing this to me! YOU are making me have a time out!” so I quickly learned to teach him the role he played in it. I’ve even been known to ask them, “Who brought this upon you? Who actually is doing this to you?” just so they realize it was their choice that landed them their consequence.

And the whole “it’s not fair” thing doesn’t fly at our house, and never has. When my older children were little and shared that with me, I was quick to agree: “You’re so right! Life isn’t fair! We already know that, don’t we? If life were fair, I’d have a dad!” (I’m such a terrible mother to dash that childhood dream that life is fair. Sadly, that’s one thing my children have known at an early age although I had to laugh one day when a young child in my home uttered that and another young child, not much older, agreed, “Yes, life isn’t fair! If it were, mom would still have her dad.” I guess I taught that one a little too well, huh?)

But the great thing about all this? It’s all up to my children! I show them the way and help establish expectations and consequences with them, but they get to choose the type of life they live; they get to choose to be successful or not— and they quickly see that it’s much more pleasant to buckle down, get their work done, meet their responsibilities and enjoy freedom and privileges instead of choosing painful consequences and loss of privileges that result in childhood misery and woe! (I know, I know, my children aren’t going to have any stories of having to walk to school through two miles of snow but they WILL have stories about having me as their mother, I’m sure! And if those don’t suffice in showing they were sufficiently traumatized by the misfortune of their life in the parenting department, they can always play the losing-everything-to-a-Ponzi-scheme card! Lol. Just kidding. Hopefully they will always seek to be forward looking and choose to see how they’ve been blessed by the hard stuff to become even better than they would otherwise have been rather than dwell on any misery that came their way.)

But there you have it: what I do and why I do it. Aren’t you glad you don’t have to live at my house?

Oh. I should add that I try to do all of the above with humor, lots of laughter and hugs and love, without yelling (I am NOT a fan of losing control to the point of yelling or getting physical in a negative way) as well as dancing with my children whenever possible!

“Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.” (Angela Monet)

There’s Nothing Like Halloween To…

Date: November 1, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Charlie Brown is the one person I identify with. C.B. is such a loser. He wasn’t even the star of his own Halloween special.” (Chris Rock)

There’s nothing like Halloween to…make you feel like a loser.

That’s how I felt last night anyway. I’m past the Ponzi scheme, past the divorce, past the complete world and life change, etc…but as I sat home alone on Halloween for the first time in my life and passed out candy to trick-or-treaters, I think I was was a little sad not to be “the star” of Halloween this year.

Every other year since becoming a mother I’ve planned the costumes, purchased the candy, made a festive dinner, and taken my children trick-or-treating. This year my oldest was at college; my daughter was working at Cold Stone; and my husband took my two youngest trick-or-treating at their request. I don’t know if it was being home alone on Halloween night for the very first time in my life or if it was the result of all the chocolate I ate (you know, the low that comes on the heels of a sugar high from eating WAY too much candy!) but I some serious orange and black nostalgia.

I missed my dad, who always took my siblings and me trick-or-treating as children. Those thoughts led to nostalgia for the carefree, innocent days of childhood.

Then I missed the Halloweens I’ve celebrated as a mother. Those thoughts made me miss my old life, just a little bit.

And then THOSE thoughts made me realize 2011 was my 18th Halloween as a mother! A milestone of sorts. And I realized: I’m not just a Halloween loser, I’m a middle-aged Halloween loser! Aaaauuggghhh! (Isn’t that what Charlie Brown always said?)

I remembered my first Halloween as a mother, 1993—my cute six-month-old baby, dressed like a clown, crawling to the trick-or-treat candy bowl and helping himself to lollipops. He didn’t know what to do with them at that age, but he loved the crinkly sounds the wrappers made! Skinny little Dum-Dum sticks grasped tightly and awkwardly in chubby baby fingers and tight baby fists. I’ll never forget that.

Halloween, and life, was very different then. In 1993, I had the world by the tail and thought my biggest challenge was going to be my attempt at motherhood, trying to be a good mother to my children; I had NO IDEA all that life would deliver to my door, and that not all of it would be as welcome as the continuous “ding’dong” of a doorbell on Halloween night.

I guess life is like that for all of us, huh?

Well, that baby clown is grown and gone. And there I was, home alone, crying as I passed out candy to trick-or-treaters, thinking about that, how fast the past 18 years have gone and all that my family has lived through.

Rest assured, however, that grown baby clown did nothing of the sort. Nostaliga? Heck no!  He was too busy making the rounds at university Halloween dances this year, dressed as a giant Whoopee Cushion, solo dancing on stages around BYU’s campus, performing some awe-inspiring, “shuffle” dance moves that are currently all the rage. I confess, picturing a giant Whoopee Cushion busting dance moves to which college crowds gathered around to watch wiped away some of my melancholy—as did the realization that I have only myself to blame.

I mean, what do you get when you use, as a disciplinary consequence, dance parties in the kitchen? Worse, what do you get when you make your children dance to the song of your choice if they misbehave…and if you make THEM watch YOU dance if they’ve been really, really bad?

Ironically, a pretty well-behaved mostly grown up Whoopee Cushion. With some pretty excellent dance moves.

“Whoopee Cushion (noun): a type of cusion or pillow used as a practical joke that when sat upon, produces a loud noise resembling flatulence.” (Dictionary.com)

So What Do You Do When…

Date: August 17, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

Not too long ago my youngest was in the tub singing as he bathed. Thanks to the influence of my husband and his performance in Sundance resort’s summer theater production of “The Sound of Music” (I think), eventually the singing turned to yodeling (or shall we say, “attempted” yodeling?)

So what do you do when your son is yodeling? If you’re me, you join him!

There he sat in the tub as I stood at the counter doing my hair, both of us providing QUITE an impression of Julie Andrews and the Von Trapp children’s song about goats! Later in the day, when my husband called to say hello, I let him know what my son and I had been up to in the bathroom before the neighbors did. I’m proud and thankful to report that accidentally shaving an eyebrow off wasn’t in the report this time. My husband listened quietly as I detailed our activity.

I don’t know what I expected him to say, but here’s what happened. Without missing a beat, he started yodeling the song from Disneyland’s “It’s A Small World” ride—demonstrating a suggestion for future material my son and I could yodel to!

Second marriage moment #22.

Because if you had told me, pre-March 18, 2009, that in 2011 I’d be working full-time, residing in any state other than Colorado, married to a different man than the previous 20 years, living a completely different life (aka. yodeling in a Utah bathroom and actually married to a man who sings, yodels, dances, plays musical instruments and wears lederhosen when the occasion requires it)…I NEVER would have believed it!

Still loving the unexpected life.

How’s yours?

“If you ever teach a yodeling class, probably the hardest thing is to keep the students from just trying to yodel right off. You see, we build to that.” (Jack Handy)

Good to know.


P.P.S. To The News

Date: June 17, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“You know, I have guys that are almost stalkers… it is very strange. I had this one guy that e-mailed me off my site, and thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend. He then came to my house in London, I do not know how he found it.” (Caprice Bourret)

After the KSL news story last week, I also heard from a man I’d only danced with at a singles dance one night–never dated. He contacted me to tell me he saw my story on t.v., reminded me we’d danced at a singles dance and detailed our conversation.

Before I could respond, he contacted me again, told me he saw my story on t.v., reminded me we’d danced at a singles dance, detailed our conversation and said he never shared personal information like I had…until he’d gotten older.

Hmmm. I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Was he telling me I am old? (I guess I can’t argue with that. After all, my middle son already informed me last year that I “shattered his childhood illusion of having a young mother” when he found out I’m not in my thirties–I’m turning 44 this summer.)

But before I could respond, he contacted me again, told me he saw my story on t.v., said he never shared personal information until he’d gotten older, reminded me we’d danced at a singles dance, detailed our conversation and said the next time he saw me I was with a man and walked by without saying anything. If I remember right, he also contacted me one more time to say he “guessed” I was married now.

Every message had been sent so rapidly (like every half hour), I hadn’t had time to respond to them. However, I knew what to say to that last comment: Yes, I am remarried, SO happy and consider myself so blessed to have found #5!

But what I didn’t reveal is that there is a high probability the man-who-for-a-minute-there-almost-gave-the-appearance-of-a-sort-of-stalker might see me at a single’s dance again–if he’s looking. You see, since our marriage, #5 and I actually have been to one, one night when we were in the mood to dance but didn’t want to go to a rowdy club…and we’ll probably do so again sometime!

I mean, “We’re fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance.” (Japanese proverb) 

Right?


First Date

Date: May 21, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“If you’re a young Mafia gangster out on your first date, I bet it’s real embarrassing if someone tries to kill you.” (Jack Handy)

Who can forget their first date?

My mom fondly recalled her first date many times over the course of my life: she was 5 years old, and went to a movie at a movie theater with a boy and his parents. She was a friendly gal, and dated a lot during her childhood and early teens, and then it was recommended by L.D.S. church leaders that dating be delayed until the age of 16 so she stopped dating–until she turned 16 years old!

I remember my first date: Derek.

It was late August 1983 after I had turned 16 years old. The boy I’d had a crush on since the moment I first laid eyes on him (at 14 years old) had asked me out and my friend, Carrie, had come over to help me get ready. I talked and hung out with her while I did my hair and makeup and decided what to wear–and she gave me a pedicure, which I promptly covered up when I put my Topsiders on! It was the 1980s, so of course my hair was something to behold, and accented by the skinny tie (anyone remember wearing those?) that completed my ensemble. We saw the movie, “Strange Brew,” and had a great time. It was a first date with no regrets, or embarrassing moments, that I can recall.

My daughter’s first date was an entirely different experience: Eric.

She went to a school dance with the boy she sits by in Chemistry class, a fun and casual friend. Watching my daughter get ready, and helping her, was a total flashback to the 1980s as she was headed to a decades-themed dance and she and her date had chosen 1980s exercise wear. I helped her find a Jelly belt, tear her sweatshirt to hang off the shoulder, find neon-colored tank tops to layer, get her hair in THE  high side ponytail, with her green eyeshadow (what can I say, we couldn’t find any blue eyeshadow in the house!) and with her hot pink headband (just like Olivia Newton John’s in “Lets Get Physical.”) It wasn’t in the original plan that my daughter drive on the date, but due to car troubles of other parties involved, she ended up driving her car. And accidentally, while slowly backing up, she backed into a friend’s car.

It was dark. Neither she nor her date saw the other car. Thankfully, she backs up really slowly. Thankfully, no damage occurred to either car or to any living being. In fact, the driver of the other car got out, hugged my daughter and told her it was no big deal. I was very relieved there was no damage to people or automobiles; but my daughter was so mortified about the whole thing she wasn’t even dwelling on that. That event overshadowed every other aspect of her first date. That event was what she talked about when she got home. Even late the NEXT evening she was still worrying about it, alone in her bedroom, so I went to check on her.

She was absolutely humiliated, mortified, and didn’t want to show her face anywhere, ever, again. I tried to help her put it into perspective so I said, “Sarah, you can survive this. Just think of other hugely embarrassing things you’ve overcome.”

“Like what?” she asked.

I was stunned. Had the events of 2009 faded that fast in her teenage mind? I clarified, “Like discovering a family member stole millions of dollars, was heading to prison, it was all over the national media, we lost everything and had to watch the government come into our home and take our possessions, some people were mean to us, other people were kind to us yet we had to rely on the charity of others…ALL of those embarrassing moments we endured. If you can survive that humiliation, you can get through anything! This is nothing compared to that.”

Adding that last sentence reminded me that embarrassment and humiliation is all in your perspective. It was also a mistake; add it to the many that continually stream from my mouth, far too often, as I say what I think pretty much as soon as I think it. Call it one of my many weaknesses.

My daughter countered that her experience was far more embarrassing than the one I referenced. I was stunned! I couldn’t believe she really thought that, but she did. She drove her point home (no pun intended, lol!) when she added, “And Mom, if you think criminals, Ponzi schemes, publicity, divorce, prison, crime, government seizure and everything else is more embarrassing than backing into another car on a date…you don’t know ANYTHING about teenage girls!”

Wow. How could I have gotten so old and so far removed from being a teenage girl? And how could I have failed my daughter like that?

You see, one of the great things about being my mother’s daughter is that no matter my embarrassing moment, when I returned home mortified about something that had happened to me, my mom could totally commiserate and share an embarrassing moment from her life that absolutely outdid mine, made me laugh and made me feel so much better about my humiliation! In fact, she survived such mortification that as an adult, friends would call after something embarrassing and ask, “Tell me a story about your mom to make me feel better so I can get through this most recent humiliation.” I thought that’s what mothers are for–and I wasn’t able to do that for mine! (Although I must be blinded by my past, because I could swear 2009 is the ultimate in humiliation. I can’t see myself ever being embarrassed about anything again, after that one!)

So I quit trying to reason with my daughter, stopped attempting to help her put embarrassment into perspective and just empathized with her. I promised that someday, we will look back on her first date…and laugh; we’ll even be the better for it, and we’ll be strong.

“But I learned that there’s a certain character that can be built from embarrassing yourself endlessly. If you can sit happy with embarrassment, there’s not much else that can really get to ya.” (Christian Bale)

Now if we can only be totally hot when we have as much character, strength and wisdom as Batman, we’ll be absolutely set for…The Unexpected Life.

Easy To Speak

Date: January 30, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman
When I was a girl, my dad had the irritating habit of bursting into song when we weren’t being kind.  ”Let us oft’ speak kind words to each other, at home or where’ere we may be…” he sang–in his best opera voice. 

It did the trick. I absolutely hated that song and how he sang it. I changed my behavior ASAP just to get him to stop singing. His message was clear: my parents expected us to choose kindness, no matter what.

I had no idea what was in store for me, in my life, when I was a girl. I’ve lived through horrific shock; unimaginable loss; personal devastation; grief. I’ve been falsely accused and wrongly judged by people who know me (and thus should have known better) and by random strangers (who don’t know me at all) a few times. Sometimes it seemed like my situation couldn’t have gotten much worse. But I’m thankful I was taught to be kind, because I firmly believe and I’ve seen for myself that the only thing that can make a bad situation worse is anger, contention, venom, hatred, rudeness, hostility, vilification, an unwillingness to forgive…in other words, a lack of kindness and charity.

Regardless of what happens to us, I strongly believe our reaction to every situation, unexpected or otherwise, continues to be a choice and, “Kindness is in our power, even when fondness is not.” (Samuel Johnson) I’ve seen for myself that, “Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless.” (Mother Teresa) I’m reminded of that each day when someone chooses to act or speak with kindness toward me. I was reminded of that even today when a stranger named Mark offered a kind comment on my blog. And when my former spouse was sentenced and a Ponzi scheme victim I don’t know offered a kind word on my blog. I have been uplifted by the kindness of strangers countless times in my life, especially in my unexpected one.

Now I sing that song, my dad’s song, to my own kids. In an opera voice, too. And I’m pleased to report it’s working just as well for the next generation of my family. We’re not perfect, but we’re trying to be kind. Always. And we’re singing about it.

Just a little something in addition to the dance moves we’ve developed…in our unexpected life.

“While I dance I cannot judge, I cannot hate, I cannot separate myself from life. I can only be joyful and whole. That is why I dance.” (Hans Bos)

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!

Slumber Party Adoption-Style

Date: November 18, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Brandon Walsh: “You’re having a slumber party? I thought you gave those up in junior high.”
Brenda Walsh: “It is not a slumber party. It’s an evening of female bonding, right Mom?”

What do you do when you meet your birth mother at the ripe old age of 42? You get to know one another. And if your mother is a woman who is nice, friendly, loving, and social…you have the occasional slumber party. At least, that’s what we do.

We met in early 2010. By summertime, it was time to take things to a new level. She called me one day and invited me to stay with her for a weekend. So I made the trip to her home, carried my suitcase into her bedroom and made myself at home. We went to dinner. We sat in her hot tub, talking about anything and everything, until the wee hours. And then we fell asleep in her king-size bed. We fell asleep talking and woke up talking some more! She took me out in her boat for a perfect morning on the lake before I went home to my family.

A few months have passed since our first slumber party. It was time for another sleepover. This time, she came to my house. She arrived, with pizzas for my children, along with homemade, frosted, sugar cookies she had decorated. I’d never even told her how much I love them, so it’s interesting that her cookie specialty also just happens to be my favorite! (I almost missed a plane, once, for frosted sugar cookies–but that is a story for another day, although it sure makes me wonder if some of our “loves” are in our genes!)

We went shopping. We discovered we love the same stores: Nordstrom and J. Crew. While looking around, we both fell in love with the same cardigan, in the same color, so she bought them for us. Afterward, we went to dinner at P.F. Changs, and both of us ordered the exact same thing for our meal. But you’ll never guess where the evening’s entertainment culminated.

Think about it. What would two single ladies do? Where would they go…if they loved to dance?

I can see the eye rolling now. Yep, you guessed it! After all I’ve written about them, you’re probably wondering how it could possibly be. But it’s true.

I took her to a single’s dance!

Raise your hand if you’ve ever taken your mom to a single’s dance.

“Those who dance are thought mad by those who hear not the music.” (Unknown)

Another unexpected adventure in what has become a very unexpected life.

Stay tuned.

That’s How We Learn

Date: November 16, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I grew up with six brothers. That’s how I learned to dance – waiting for the bathroom.” (Bob Hope)

I can relate, although I learned to dance in the kitchen watching my parents cha-cha before breakfast and taking a spin when my mom needed to stir something.

But that is the grand adventure of life, isn’t it?

Learning the most unexpected lessons at the most unexpected times and from the most unexpected places.

I learned honesty as a child, but learned, again, how committed I was to it when government agents were coming to my home to seize everything of value and I knew the contents of my jewelry box. It would have been so easy to take something I could sell to feed, clothe or shelter my children and none would be the wiser. Except me. And that was the problem.

So I didn’t do it, although I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. It absolutely did. When you’re left alone, financially devastated, and have four children to provide for, it’s amazing how desperate that situation can make you feel. However, I’ve never been one to sell my soul for “things” and even when the stakes were so high in my eyes, I learned I still wasn’t going to. I learned for myself I wasn’t going to break down and be dishonest after living a life of complete honesty just because my spouse had. I learned I’d rather starve or be forced to rely upon the charity of others than to choose to steal or sell my soul for any “thing.”

In that moment I also learned that as much as we know what is right, and regardless of how much a virtue (like honesty) we possess, we are never absolutely above temptation. At least, I’m imperfect enough not to be.

Life is an endless opportunity to prove ourselves and reprove ourselves and prove ourselves again, even when we think we have something mastered–we get to learn and prove ourselves in an entirely new, and unexpected, way!

Like dance. I graduated from high school and dancing in the kitchen to college, social dance class, and returning home for New Year’s Eve 1985 to cha-cha with my dad, one last time, but in public, at a dance. Later I added clogging, BYU Folk Dancers and Irish dance to the resume of my experience. And eventually, a dance class with Bachelor #5. He keeps inviting me to country/western dance, so that may be next on our list. But wherever our lesson, and our life lessons take us, this I know:

That’s how we learn. And we’re learning all the time. The tombstone will be our diploma, said Eartha Kitt.

“Be a student so long as you still have something to learn, and this will mean all your life.” (Henry L. Doherty)

Especially in the unexpected one.