Living Happily Ever After
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Unexpected Wife

Date: April 1, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

This is not a joke or a test of the emergency broadcast system. For anyone who logged on today for a word from me, my apologies. I thought I’d switch things up in honor of April 1st, April Fools and to accommodate the requests from readers who have asked for a formal introduction to my husband. I figured after six months of dating, a 10 month engagement, one year of marriage and everything else…it’s about time! This is no April Fool’s joke. Ladies and gentlemen, here he is: Mr. Mike Ramsey. (Formerly known as #5.)

“Do you ever hear a song that immediately transports you back to another time in your life?  Not to just a small memory of the first time you heard it, but it literally takes you to where you would swear you were, in that place and in that time?  It happened to me a few months ago.

I can’t remember the song (and that’s a good thing) but it took me back to the first few months after my separation. When I was living in the basement of my best friend’s home.  The song reminded me of waking up that first morning, on a mattress on the floor, and looking up at the unfinished ceiling thinking, ‘This nightmare was not a dream.’ Once again I felt that sinking feeling in my chest that my whole world had fallen apart and was never going to be the same.  What a horrible feeling!  (Now you know why I don’t want to remember the song.)

Thankfully, these days I’m singing a different tune.

You’ve read how Andrea and I met—the whole Spaghetti Factory thing—after we found each other on the internet. I am so thankful we did! You’ve read of the awful things that she and the kids had gone through: after she told me her father’s unexpected death when she was a teen and about the Ponzi scheme that led to her divorce, I asked her why she wasn’t on medication! (Ha!) What you may not know is how genuine Andrea really is. And that the way she comes across on the blog is the way she really is in life: an amazing, down-to-earth woman who knows who she is. Each day she tries her best to reach her God-given potential. I love her for that, and for many other things. One of my best friends summed it up so succinctly when she said, “Andrea is good for you, Mike!” I agree.

I’m sure in five years, although there may not be one song in particular I remember from our dating time (she kept me too busy dancing to too many tunes to have just one memory!) I know that every time I hear a song from our dating I will be whisked back to those great memories and feelings and remember what a lucky fellow I am.

Yes, when you are Bachelor #5 you definitely need someone “good” for you.  And I got the best there is. My “unexpected wife.”

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)

A Mixture of Pleasure and Pain

Date: May 23, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“This moment in time, on this tour, you know, I’m discovering a lot of new things. And to be 45 and doing that, it’s a mixture of pleasure and pain, I can assure you.” (Eric Clapton)

I’m not 45 years old, but this week marks my three-month wedding anniversary; cause to reflect on my current “tour,” remarriage, and to evaluate my experience thus far–as in where we’ve been and where we’re headed.

I remember back to the “good old days” of being engaged. I don’t know how it all came across in the blog, but the reality of it was not 9 1/2 months of bliss, carefree romance and starry eyes and nights despite the many great moments we shared. In actuality, it was the majority of  one year spent getting to know one another even better, preparing to unite not just ourselves but our families, and of challenges, confronting issues and resolving them–and when you’re talking remarriage, you’re dealing with all of the aforementioned stuff to an even greater degree than a first marriage. In fact, there was so much to work through, #5 used to joke that marriage would be easy compared to being engaged and that there was nothing we wouldn’t know about one another by the time we got married.

I think I thought #5 meant being married would be “easier” and with less to work through than our engagement and that because we knew each other so well, there wouldn’t be any surprises or a period of adjustment to one another after our wedding. (You know, for being this old and somewhat experienced in life and marriage–having been married 20 years to someone else prior to marrying #5–you’d think I’d be a lot brighter than I am!) But boy, was I wrong.

I realized, again, that you never truly know someone until you live with them and in life, and especially the remarriage aspect of the unexpected one, it seems like there is always something to work through or resolve!

I’m a hopeless romantic. (I’ll confess that right here and now in case that has happened to escape the attention of anyone reading this blog.) I went into remarriage with my usual rose-colored optimism and romantic ideals of perfection.  And while my remarriage is wonderful, there have been a few moments of challenge (if I’m being honest.) Moments spent in resolving issues. And the truth, in my experience and based on what I’ve learned from premarital counselors and others who have lived through or are living through the remarriage experience, is that approximately 80% of issues, conflict, and anything else that needs to be worked out can usually be related directly to money, children and/or former spouses. (Which shouldn’t be THAT surprising, since statistics show most first marriage difficulties arise over money and children, too.)

One day, in the middle of an “issue resolution” I joked that despite all the premarital counselor had tried to prepare me for, remarriage was a lot more difficult than I’d anticipated. That stopped #5 in his tracks. He looked at me in all seriousness and said, “Really? I thought it was going to be a LOT worse than this! I thought it was going to be much harder than this! I’m actually amazed at how well everything is going and how few problems we have compared to what I expected.”

That stopped ME in MY tracks. I was stunned. “Wait, you thought it was going to be WORSE than this…and you married me anyway?” I asked.

“Absolutely, and I’d do it again,” he clarified.

THAT sums up the remarriage experience for me, as well as the unexpected life.

It can be a stretch to feel like an old dog learning new tricks in your 40s. A mixture of pain, growing pains, as you learn and grow through the new opportunities you’re blessed with as well as plenty of pleasure, like when your new husband tells you, despite the challenges, issues and the work required to resolve them, that it’s even better than he expected, that he loves you and that he’d do it all over again. For you.

Second marriage moment #12.

“Forever can never be long enough for me, To feel like I’ve had long enough with you…Marry Me, Today and Every day, Marry Me…say you will.” (Train, “Marry Me”)

I love it when #5 hums, sings, says that or plays it for me on XM Radio “The Coffee House” channel.

The Unexpected Life.

You’d Think I’d Be Getting Used To It By Now

Date: April 25, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“It is best not to swap horses while crossing the river.” (ABRAHAM LINCOLN, reply to National Union League, June 9, 1864)

Given that wise counsel, I didn’t rush to change my name as soon as I remarried. Instead, I remarried and gave myself some time (several weeks!) to adjust to the big change of marrying again before making lots of other changes that typically accompany a life-altering event.

After a long engagement that felt like “living in limbo” in many ways, life was finally moving on–sometimes at the pace of warp speed–or at least that’s what it felt like, to me. Combining households, lives and everything else required official documents in many cases, and some of those changes required the use of my official name. So finally, as a matter of convenience, it was time for that too. Time to change my name.

To be honest, it was a little traumatic. I’ve chronicled some the thoughts and events leading up to that decision; I (still) wondered about its impact on my children; and it wasn’t something I was doing entirely (or even mostly) for me.  In the end, like facing anything uncomfortable or hard or difficult (although compared to that list, it wasn’t TERRIBLY uncomfortable, hard or difficult), it came down to the fact that sometimes you just have to do it: face it, do what must be done, and continue pressing forward. So I left work a little early one day and headed to the Social Security Administration.

I had all the necessary paperwork and required documents. I arrived to find a parking lot full of cars, walked in, the guard took one look at me and announced, “We’re closed.”

I thought he was kidding. It was 4 p.m. on a Thursday! You can’t believe what it had taken for me to get there, to that location, at that time, with everything I needed to make that huge change. It HAD to be a joke. “You’re joking, right?” I asked.

The guard told me he wasn’t kidding, they were closed. When I asked what time they had closed, he told me four o’clock. I said, “Well that’s what time it is now.” He replied, “Nope, it’s now 4:01 p.m. Come back another day!”

I could have screamed. (Not literally.) But I walked away, I confess, just a little bit frustrated. However, that moment, second marriage moment #5, was not lost on me. I’d been through remarriage counseling and had been remarried long enough to see that my first attempt to change my name was simply representative of the entire remarriage experience: it’s not simple or easy. It’s different than marrying the first time. It’s more complicated than you think it’s going to be. Why was I surprised that even changing my name went right along with the rest of the experience?

That’s not to say it’s not worth it. I believe that it is, it’s just not simple or easy all of the time. Pretty much like life. Especially the unexpected one. You’d think I’d be getting used to that by now…

“Issues are never simple. One thing I’m proud of is that very rarely will you hear me simplify the issues.” (Barack Obama)


Today’s Crisis Is Tomorrow’s Joke, I Hope

Date: February 2, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I don’t know how to drive a car.” (Javier Bardem)

However, my daughter is learning to. She’ll be 16 in two months, so despite the fact she’s had her learner’s permit for almost a year, we’re feeling the pressure to get her as much experience behind the wheel before her birthday as we can. Easier said than done, though. Especially when I work full-time in another city.

So tonight we combined a driving lesson with a quick errand. Note to self: it would probably be wise to never attempt teenage daughter driving lessons after working all day and commuting both directions in traffic!

She drove. When I instructed her to turn right, she turned left–like she didn’t know her left from her right. (She really does, and she’s a smart girl, but I think she gets a little flustered behind the wheel.) One time when I instructed her to turn left, she hesitated so long the car behind her got in the turn lane, pulled up beside her and she nearly hit them when trying to get in the lane to turn.  After taking the LONG way to our destination, and experiencing her struggle to both use the turn signal and to change lanes, I admit it wasn’t my finest 20 minutes as a mother.

So by the time she ran a stop sign, cut off the car who actually had the right of way, forced them to slam on their brakes to avoid an accident, which apparently angered them because they tail-gated our car all the way down the street until they could whip around us, cut in front of us and slam on their brakes (to reinforce their anger at the way our driver was driving, I guess) I was completely out of patience.

I lectured her thoroughly (and loudly.)

Upon arriving home, my daughter went straight to her room, crying, committed to never getting behind the wheel of a car again. I make an impressive driving instructor, don’t you think? Or at the very least, an impressive mother. (Not.)

Ironically, tonight a friend told me that I have a very nice daughter and that I’m a good mother. Of all the days to tell me that! I had to confess how not true that is today. I can only hope that, “The crisis of today is the joke of tomorrow.” (H.G. Wells)

Or that she’s at least speaking to me by then, so we can laugh about it!

I apologized to her several times tonight, but I’m thankful “tomorrow is another day,” a new opportunity to stand up and do things better as a mother and as a driving instructor–if my daughter will consent to drive again.

“If you fell down yesterday, stand up today.” (H.G. Wells)

Just don’t run any stop signs.

Pirates

Date: January 26, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“The divorced person is like a man with a black patch over one eye. He looks rather dashing but the fact is that he has been through a maiming experience.”  (Jo Coudert)

And then, ”Suddenly you’re like a pirate–you’re 65 years old and you’ve got an earring.” (Fred Willard)

Or in my case, not quite 42.

But here’s what I’ve learned courtesy of my unexpected life and the divorce that came along with it; after living through one myself and meeting many, many people who have been similarly maimed. I’d say it’s an apt description. It’s much more traumatic and scarring than I’d ever imagined; in many ways, it IS like death–only harder in some ways because the other person isn’t gone for good, they continue to resurface and impact you and your family, including times that it’s not always convenient, special occasions and holidays. Divorce definitely leaves a hole.

When I got divorced, I had only known a handful of people to endure the tragic demise of their marriages. I felt very alone, but now realize I wasn’t as alone as I felt. There were MANY other people, right there with me, enduring their own divorces. Maybe it’s because of the circles I’m forced to socialize in as a single woman, but divorce is a lot more common than I’d realized before it happened to me. (Sort of how you don’t notice a car until you drive one yourself, and then you see your car everywhere!)

Let’s just say the singles scene is a Star Trek Convention of maimed (aka. divorced) pirates, black patches and peg legs!

But I’ve seen for myself that you can heal from even from the worst things, the ultimate betrayals and the hardest experiences, including crime, if you choose to. The hole left by your unexpected horror begins to fill in and scar over. (And you have to let it heal, don’t keep picking at it.) Then, eventually, life is pretty good again.

Life can be good, even post-divorce.

Life WILL be good again.

There’s something to be said for pirates!

“Life’s pretty good, and why wouldn’t it be? I’m a pirate, after all.” (Johnny Depp)

Just pick yourself up after each sword fight and every cannon ball shot your direction and get back in the hunt for the booty. Trust that eventually you’ll find your treasure. And when you do, you’ll know the hunt and everything that led you to the “X,” was worth it. That’s how I feel. Every aspect of my experience, every detour my treasure map took, every battle, and every scar is absolutely worth it because it got me to where I am today.

“I’ve been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king; I’ve been up and down and over and out, and I know one thing: Each time I find myself flat on my face, I pick myself up and get back in the race.”

Because that’s what pirates do. Especially those unexpected ones. Like me. Like all of us.

Ahoy, Matie!

Oh. And just in case #5 ever decides to read this blog (he abandoned it when it headed into the Bachelors), this one’s for him:

Q: What is a pirate’s favorite fast food restaurant?

A: Arrrrby’s!

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!

Speaking of Counseling

Date: September 22, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

Speaking of counseling, here’s a joke:

A husband and wife were at a party chatting with some friends when the object of marriage counseling came up.

“Oh, we’ll never need that,” the wife explained. “My husband and I have a great relationship. He was a communications major in college and I majored in theater arts. He communicates real well and I just act like I’m listening.”

The funniest part? I majored in communications in college…and Bachelor #5 is into theater.

Hmmm.

And now, on to the report of our counseling session experience. It was…unexpected. But not for the reasons you might think!

REALLY Fast

Date: September 8, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I’m so fast that last night I turned off the light switch in my hotel room and was in bed before the room was dark.” (Muhammad Ali)

I’m thinking Bachelor #5 could have given Muhammad Ali a run for his money. I didn’t have an answer to the marriage question, much less the idea of September, all I could say was, “THAT is REALLY fast!”

And as Bachelor #5 acknowledged it was fast, he didn’t let me off the hook by saying, “no pressure,” and I sure felt the difference! I finally felt some pressure to begin thinking about things in earnest. However, I wasn’t sure I could decide such an important thing at that stage of my life, much less on a “deadline.”

“Oh! do not attack me with your watch. A watch is always too fast or too slow. I cannot be dictated to by a watch.” (Jane Austen)

Bachelor #5 added, “And when you decide, if you decide the way I hope you do, you only have to say two words, ‘It’s time,’ and I’ll take care of the rest. That’s all I want to hear, ‘It’s time’.”

I didn’t know what I was going to decide. But I owed it to myself, my children and Bachelor #5 to make a decision. It was time to get serious with my thoughts.

Very serious.

“I hope life isn’t a big joke, because I don’t get it.” (Jack Handey, SNL)

A Phone Call

Date: August 14, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

She thought it would be a fun joke for us to call our mutual friend together.

In some ways it would have been, but due to the Ponzi scheme perpetrated by my former spouse, I was scared to call. Although he hadn’t been a victim, my friend’s husband was one person my ex-husband had specifically mentioned to me as being unfriendly toward him after his crimes were revealed. I wasn’t sure how a phone call from Andrea Merriman would be received. But I didn’t want to get into all of that my first meeting with my birth mother!

So I made the call. I figured if the husband hung up on me, THEN would be the time to explain. And wouldn’t you know it? Just my luck. The husband answered the phone when I called.

He isn’t a mean man, just gruff, and I am sure a phone call from me was the last thing he imagined for himself that night. He asked me my name a couple of times. When he finally realized it was Andrea Merriman, he said simply, “What do you want?” I asked if I could speak to his wife.

She got on the phone and asked me if everything was all right. We hadn’t communicated for awhile. I told her I didn’t need anything, I was just calling to let her know I’d met an old friend of hers and gave the phone to my birth mother.

They had QUITE a chat. Old friends catching up on their lives in the most unexpected of ways!

The rest of the evening consisted of things you’d expect when reuniting with the mother who gave you life. I showed her pictures of my childhood and life, she showed me pictures of her children. I met one of her five children (and I really liked him.) She told me everything she could remember about my birth father, I told her about my children and divorce and new life; we enjoyed a very comfortable visit.

But at the top of my list of interesting things about our first meeting was the fact that my Colorado friend, a friend of mine since approximately 1994, had not only known my birth mother but had been her best friend and college roommate!

Have I ever said it’s a SMALL world? Because I really believe it is!