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)

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Good Kick In The Pants And A Season Of Growth

Date: February 14, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Each man should frame life so that at some future hour, fact and his dreaming meet.” (Victor Hugo)

Lest anyone think all that has been happening in the unexpected life of our family are boys making less than ideal choices—like ditching kindergarten and scheduling a playground fight with a  school bully via Facebook—we’ve witnessed a few dreams become reality, too!

Several months ago, we saw my oldest achieve a lifelong (since he was 5 years old) dream: to play hockey at the college level. I confess, the first time I saw my son skate onto the ice while the fans roared their support, I think I was probably the only person there with tears rolling down her cheeks! I couldn’t help it. Everyone else may have seen a tall, handsome, athletic man on ice skates, skating like the wind, fighting for the puck and working for a goal…but all I could see was a little preschooler so passionate about skating he never took off the blue Playskool skates he strapped to every pair of shoes he owned; the kindergartener who begged me to let him play hockey; the little boy who hounded his mother all day for what seemed like every day of the year to let him play hockey, until 5th grade, when I finally relented and enrolled him at Big Bear; and the enthusiastic boy who came off the ice after his first game so thrilled with everything about the sport he uttered words I never expected to hear come out of my ultra-competitive son’s mouth: “Mom! Hockey is SO FUN, it doesn’t matter if you win or lose, you’re just so thrilled to play the game!”

He never quit. He seemed to eat, breathe and sleep ice hockey from that moment forward. He was out practicing his shots or skating before school. He played against anyone he could get to put skates on. And long after the sun set, I’d hear him outside whacking the puck with an energy that never left him. His enthusiasm finally led us to install outdoor lighting so he could practice longer each night. And the day he played his first college ice hockey game was quite a moment. For him and for me.

It was a season of growth…for both of us. Last weekend, I watched my son play his last home game of his inaugural college ice hockey season. I was a lot more relaxed, there weren’t any tears, but I was still full of admiration for my son and all that he accomplished in making his college ice hockey dream come true.

It just took one dreamer. ”Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world.” (Harriet Tubman)

That, and a kick in the pants. Remember: ”Dreams will get you nowhere, a good kick in the pants will take you a long way.” (Baltasar Gracian)

True, for all of us. No matter the dream, no matter the unexpected opportunities you’re blessed with, you can go as far as you need to; as far as you dream to. Supplemented, of course, by the occasional, well-administered kick in the pants.

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)

Of Life, Cereal And…Purple Milk

Date: August 2, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“The team has come along slow but fast.” (Casey Stengel)

In 2009, circumstances dictated I form a new team: me and my four children, a new family unit headed by a single mother. We  nicknamed ourselves “The Five Musketeers.” Between us, we had enough for a basketball team–no substitutes.

Two years later, a lot has happened on and off the court of our unexpected life. We have new teammates, as well as many other unexpected blessings and adventures.

The other morning, my middle son was pouring himself some “Life” breakfast cereal. (Right now, it’s one of our favorites. We go through boxes of the stuff. As chief grocery shopper for our household, I find my mission impossible, too often, is trying to find cereal the kids love and want to eat at a price I can afford!) As my son poured the last of the box into his bowl he commented, “Life sure goes fast!”

My husband and I looked at each other and laughed. At the wisdom of eleven-year-olds. Although I’m pretty sure my son wasn’t trying to wax philosophical, he ended up doing it anyway. Because as my oldest prepares to “move out” and into his college dorm, at the same time, my youngest is entering kindergarten; both momentous occasions taking place in just three weeks. But I’m not laughing so hard anymore. Because I’m thinking breakfast cereal isn’t the only thing that doesn’t last.

“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look round once in a while, you could miss it.” (“Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”)

Yes, LIFE sure goes fast! Which makes me even more grateful for some wonderful advice my Nana gave me when she was in her 90s and I was a busy mother of a toddler and a baby. We were visiting in her home, she watched me jump up and down to help my children with various things as we chatted, and she sighed and said, “Treasure these moments. Treasure this time with your children. Of all the days you’ll live, these are your best days–the days you’re surrounded by those you love, the days you get to live with your children in your home. Out of all that I’ve lived and experienced, it’s those days that I treasure the most.”

My Nana grew up lighting candles to see, carrying hot bricks to place at the foot of her bed to keep her feet warm in the winter. As a girl, she traveled by horse and buggy, and later worked as a telephone operator (the kind you talked to to request a connection to a certain person), and saw the advent of automobiles, airplanes, dishwashers, washing machines, microwaves, television, computers and a man on the moon. She experienced some amazing things over the course of her life, yet out of all of it, she most treasured her time with her children when they were young.

How grateful I am that my Nana shared that counsel with me and that I chose to listen to it. Because life sure goes fast, cereal or otherwise!

“I won’t eat any cereal that doesn’t turn the milk purple.” (Bill Watterson) Not such a bad idea!

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.

If Real Life Was Like The Movies

Date: September 29, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Hawaii is a unique state. It is a small state. It is a state that is by itself. It…is different from the other 49 states. Well, all states are different, but it’s got a particularly unique situation.” (Dan Quayle)

Still no ring, but we had survived our first “intense discussion.” And while the wait for the ring continued, Bachelor #5 helped take my mind off the wait. One day I got a very unexpected email, and invitation, from Bachelor #5: “Hey, I just had a crazy idea. What if you and I fly to Hawaii for a long weekend? Let me know what you think.”

Since 1993, in 17 years, I had left my children a total of 17 nights. The pre-unexpected life me would have declined that invitation without a second thought. But I was living an entirely different life, now, and the “new” me decided to at least entertain the idea. I just needed to see how my children felt about it. They were supportive, so I arranged for childcare, and one morning a few weeks later found myself on my way to Hawaii.

I never expected that.

We stayed with Bachelor #5′s best friends, a husband and wife he had known since college. (In fact, he introduced them to each other.) It was wonderful to meet them. As Bachelor #5 and I both had ties to Hawaii, it was also a great opportunity for us to see our old favorite places but make new memories with each other. The trip reinforced to me how many “near misses” we’d had; how close we’d been to meeting each other, but never actually met until my unexpected life began.

For example, while attending BYU-Hawaii, Bachelor #5 participated in a performing group. Imagine my surprise when we realized I’d gotten a piano scholarship from the group’s professor and director but I’d turned it down and attended college, instead, at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah.

Another example: My parents co-owned a home on Oahu’s Hukilau Beach when I was a girl. I spent time there boogie boarding every summer. I’d taken my children to that same beach for several years to share part of my childhood with them. And then I found myself sharing that same experience with Bachelor #5. While we were in the water looking toward the houses on shore, Bachelor #5 pointed out the house he’d lived in during his time in Hawaii–four houses down the beach from my parents’ house! I remembered college men had lived there (I’d seen them on the beach occasionally, I just never paid much attention to them because they were “older” than me.) I never realized that Bachelor #5 may have been one of them!

It reminded me of a movie I saw years ago starring Gwyneth Paltrow. Actually two movies in one, it showed one plot and story that took place as she made it onto a subway car before the door closed and a parallel version and story with different events, experiences and developments that took place when she missed the subway and the door closed before she could board. Interestingly, by the end of the movie, both stories took her to the same destination and life situation; both versions had the same ending, just chronicled different events that got her to the same point at the end.

While in Hawaii, I couldn’t help but compare that bit of Hollywood fiction to my reality.

“And if real life was like the movies, I should have lived happily ever after.” (Piper Laurie)

It was healing to realize, again, that sometimes we really do have to pass through indescribably difficult things to get to where we need to be; that all things truly can work together for our good IF we allow them to. And if we don’t quit too soon or give up (even when we’re overwhelmed with the path our journey has taken) we can trust that we’ll end up right where we have needed to be all along. Possibly even at the same “ending.” Our own “happily ever after.”

“Nothing is so awesomely unfamiliar as the familiar that discloses itself at the end of a journey.” (Cynthia Ozick)

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!

Bachelor #5

Date: August 22, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I met him online.

He contacted me, told me a little about himself in his email, asked me questions about myself and I replied with the answers. This went on for several weeks, VERY different from my other online experiences. Some men contacted me for the first time and asked me out for that very night. Not Bachelor #5.

He was a nice man. A good person. My same faith. A father of four. A college graduate. A responsible citizen. Employed. A home owner. Smart. Talented. Musical. Had been married 20 years. A man with interests and hobbies. Accomplished. A man with a life. (He was busy!) He even had ties to Hawaii.

After many emails, I made a joke about us meeting in person. But he didn’t joke back. He told me he found it best to get to know each other really well before meeting.

I couldn’t believe how much we had in common. He’d share something about himself and most times, I would have had a similar experience. Poor man. He probably wondered if I was competing with his accomplishments! But when he told me he’d been on the BYU Folk Dance Team, I had to shake my head and laugh. I’d even done that too!

In the meantime, while he emailed me a couple times each week, he kept busy with his work, with his passion for theater (not just attending shows, singing and performing in them!), spending time with his children, taking care of his youngest child who lived with him, living his very full life–even traveling to Hawaii.

I kept myself occupied too: full-time job, four children, my life, and working my way through the list of bachelors, some of whom I’ve written about.

Searching high and low for “Mr. Awesome.”

Searching for that happy ending I thought I’d had but refused to give up on in spite of a Ponzi scheme, betrayal, divorce and total life change.

And then unexpectedly, one day I got another email from Bachelor #5.

Inviting me to dinner.

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!

A Seriously Small World

Date: August 13, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Aw, man, it’s a small world!” (“Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back,” 2001)

We talked. We laughed. We shared experiences from our lives. It was uncanny how much we had in common. Seriously, a LOT in common. Even some of the same friends!

As an adult I’d made an older friend in Colorado. She had adopted her children and once we got on the subject of adoption; I told her I had been adopted too. She asked me what I knew of my birth mother and I told her everything except my birth mother’s name. Turns out, my friend had gone to the same university in Utah as my birth mother and had been on the same dance team! She wanted to know the name, she was just sure she’d know her.

I was afraid of that, too. Which is why I didn’t feel I could tell anyone the name. (I learned to be a lot more circumspect after that. I was learning how seriously small the world is.) So instead, my friend told me her maiden name and told me to go home and look at the pictures I was in possession of and see if she was in them.

She was.

I didn’t get back with her, hoping my friend would forget all about it, but she followed up with me. I admitted she was in the pictures with my birth mother and told her she probably had known my birth mother. She racked her brain trying to figure out who my birth mother could be. For years. But she never mentioned any names and I never volunteered any information.

In the meantime, we continued to visit together about once a month, and even went out to lunch for my birthday for several years.

The first time I met my birth mother in person, at some point in the evening I said, “Oh! I think I might know someone you know!” I mentioned my friend and our association over several years, revealed the woman’s first name but was struggling to remember her maiden name, when my birth mother named it for me.

She said, “Not only do I know her, she was my best friend all through college. We were roommates. I was the matron of honor at her wedding!”

How is THAT for a small world? A seriously small world!

“It’s a small world. No kidding.” (“Just Friends,” 2005)