Living Happily Ever After
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The Speech Continued: ‘Y’ is Your Kids

Date: March 11, 2014  Author: Andrea Merriman

I was overwhelmed with all of the questions I faced that most terrible of days in my life. I had the world–government agents, U.S. attorneys, family, friends, my husband–asking me, “WHAT are you going to do?” And I didn’t have a clue. I had no idea WHAT I was going to do.

In a moment, every single part of my life, my present, my past, and my future, had become a disaster. I was alone, thrust into the most terrifying darkness, and I didn’t know anything. Except that I was going to do what was best for my children. No matter what that meant for me or anyone else.

A counselor friend called that first day to try to help me. He asked me the question of the day (“What are you going to do?”) and I told him my answer: I didn’t know what I was going to do but I did know I was going to do what was best for my children. And he said something like this. “That is brilliant. I wish everyone in crisis would do that and we’d have a lot less messed up kids who grow up to become adults who fail.”

So that’s what I did.

Every decision was made with them in mind. Right or wrong those choices may have been, I really tried to put my children first and to do what I thought was best for them.

The results? All four of my children are living life fully, they’re enjoying successes at their various ages, and are remarkably happy and well adjusted. You would NEVER know the horrors they’ve lived through or the challenges they’ve overcome. One example: During my daughter’s senior year of high school as she was walking down the hall between classes, she happened to overhear the conversation of some girls in front of her. (They didn’t know she was behind them.) The girls were complaining, “Sarah Merriman is SO LUCKY. Everything good always happens to Sarah Merriman. We wish we could be Sarah!” If those girls only knew.

My daughter and I had a good laugh over that one!

“I honestly think it’s the thing I like most, to laugh. It cures a multitude of ills. It’s probably the most important thing in a person.” (Audrey Hepburn)

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)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unexpected Date

Date: March 22, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

When my husband’s daughter moved in, things changed. First on the list of changes was a business trip I had that my husband had planned to accompany me on. However, we ended up having to cancel his participation in it, feeling we couldn’t leave our children at home without a parent there since the living arrangement for everyone was so new.

I went alone to Las Vegas. My husband stayed home with the kids. Little did I know what would result: a date.

Sort of.

My first as a married woman…with a man who wasn’t my husband. And I even have the pictures to prove it!

Lets just say, “One picture is worth 1,000 denials.” (Ronald Reagan)

More Embarrassing Than…

Date: August 1, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Lost a planet Master Obi-Wan has. How embarrassing.” (Yoda)

I took 5 kids to see my husband’s dress rehearsal for “The Sound of Music” at Sundance resort the other night.

It was the first time my youngest has ever seen this daddy on stage. He was thrilled with each and every appearance. (My husband plays the butler, so there were quite a few entrances to catch my son’s attention!) Pretty soon it became apparent that my youngest was only interested in the show when he got to see his daddy on the stage; and eventually, after one small tantrum, and finishing the licorice Nibs he chose at intermission, he fell asleep.

Sadly, he slept through the best part—the part where my husband has abandoned the tuxedo-wearing butler role—and comes out, instead, in embroidered leiderhosen and knee socks, bowing over and over again, as the 3rd place winner in the music festival the Von Trapp family singers perform at and then escape from. (If I’m not mistaken, and based on the audience’s roaring laughter, that moment may have stolen the show!)

The most entertaining part of that moment for me, however, was NOT what was taking place on stage. It was looking at the row of kids beside me and their reaction. They were uproariously laughing and totally enjoying the sight. I’ll never forget my oldest son, laughing and shaking his head, looking at me with tears coming out of his eyes, at his stepdad’s lack of inhibition. (By the way, that is one of the things I love about my husband—he is always willing to do unexpected, crazy things, on or off the stage, in the name of entertainment, and especially to make people laugh. I have some special memories of those attempts, let me tell you, most of which cannot be publicly shared or he might be tempted to quit them altogether to preserve his reputation!)

In that moment, however, everyone was entertained. Everyone except for one. My stepson.

He sat there in shock, his jaw on the ground, disbelief masking his expression, at the sight of his dad. He shook his head in absolute mortification (he is a teenage boy, 13 years old, after all) and looked like he wanted to crawl under the bench! His embarrassment was so palpable, I reached over and gave his should a squeeze of reassurance as if to say, “It’s ok, you’re going to survive this moment.”

Because it’s my experience that the embarrassment eventually dims. The difficult becomes endurable. And then…you’re on to another adventure! That is life. (And the teens, isn’t it?)

However, as a parent who unknowingly and sometimes knowingly, I admit it, frequently embarrasses her children—like every time I dance—it was a priceless moment for so many reasons (not the least of which was the realization that I may have married my soulmate.)

‘I was always embarrassed because my dad wore a suit and my mother wore flat pumps and a cozy jumper while my friends’ parents were punks or hippies.’ (Shirley Manson)

The things parents do.

Apparently, there are things more embarrassing than losing a planet.:)

Second Marriage Moment #18: Family Vacation

Date: July 18, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“It would seem that something which means poverty, disorder and violence every single day should be avoided entirely, but the desire to beget children is a natural urge.” (Phyllis Diller)

Kids.

We have quite a few of them, thanks to our remarriage. Eight, to be exact. (Plus one daughter-in-law.) And we recently took all of them on our first family vacation.

It was quite a feat (not just the traveling as a group of 11 part, but in even pulling it off financially, not to mention coordinating the calendars of 11 different family members and 7 different work and vacation schedules to find dates that worked for everyone!) My husband, the two youngest children and I flew ahead of the rest of the group; the 7 teens/young adults flew to our destination a few days later. We met them at the airport.

I hugged my daughter and asked how her flight was. She reported the adventure of having a conversation with a woman sitting next to her on the airplane. Apparently, the group was seated in three rows of two, with my daughter sitting across the aisle from the group. The woman asked, “Are you traveling alone?”

My daughter replied, “No. I’m traveling with my brothers and sisters.”

The woman commented, “You’re a little young to be traveling alone, aren’t you?” She wanted to know who the brothers and sisters were. My daughter pointed to the three rows of passengers (ages 13-24) across the aisle and the woman was stunned to realize how large the group was. “There are so many of you— and no parents!”

My daughter explained, “Yes, our parents flew out early for our dad’s birthday.”

The woman nodded, knowingly, and said something about the parents getting away alone and leaving the children behind. My daughter clarified, “Oh no, our parents took the two youngest children with them!”

The woman’s face showed her surprise as she mentally calculated the total number of children that had to be connected to just one family, our family, and asked one more question, “Where are you from?”

My daughter replied, “Utah.”

Conversation over! I guess that state explained it all, because the woman didn’t talk to my daughter after that.

As my daughter related her travel experience, the others shared similar stories. The oldest daughter reported she’d also had a lot of strangers comment on the size of her family and said she handled all conversations with a quick explanation: “It’s a ‘Yours, Mine & Ours’ family.”

Not that I doubted their experiences, but I was surprised to have one of my own on the return flight. We boarded as a group and as we stepped on the plane, a flight attendant asked me, “Is this a family reunion?”

I shook my head and answered, “No, it’s just a family vacation.”

The flight attendant looked at me with big eyes, like she wasn’t sure she believed me. I added, “Really, we’re just one dad, one mom, eight kids and one in-law.”

Before I could explain further, the oldest daughter swooped in to rescue me with her well-practiced, “It’s a ‘Yours, Mine & Ours’ family.”

All I can say is that if fellow travelers couldn’t believe the size of our family, there’s something they would have to have seen to believe as well: the packed cars filled with all 11 of us, our suitcases and everything else the kids hauled on vacation.

Apparently, “Those that say you can’t take it with you never saw a car packed for a vacation trip.”

Why Wait?

Date: March 18, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“My kids always perceived the bathroom as a place where you wait it out until all the groceries are unloaded from the car.” (Erma Bombeck)

Or in the case of my younger sister, the bathroom is where you wait it out until all of the dinner dishes are done! (I’m sure I’ll hear from her on this one. But she KNOWS what I’m talking about:)

As an adult, since my engagement to #5, I’ve also been “waiting it out,” but unfortunately, couldn’t hide in a bathroom; I had to keep living my life.

What was I waiting for?

Marriage. To get married, to be exact. Actually, it’s THE reason for my “long” engagement and wait. Yes, the time to thoroughly get to know one another, to help our children prepare for the life change and blending of families has been very helpful. But the main reason for the wait is that I need authorization to marry where I wanted to marry.

As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I believe in marriage (and family) and in beginning all of that by marrying in a L.D.S. temple. A temple is the place we believe covenants, and the ties that bind, are made not for just this life but for eternity.

To qualify for the privilege of going to a temple to worship, marry or participate in other ordinances you must have a temple recommend (a paper permit.) This is required not because what takes place in a temple is secret (it’s not secret), but because the ordinances performed therein are so sacred. To receive a temple recommend, you must live certain standards and then obtain the recommend/permit from your local clergy.

In a first marriage, you only need a temple recommend to be married and sealed to your chosen spouse. In the case of divorce, additional authorization beyond a temple recommend is required to remarry in a temple. Men and women sealed to previous spouses in a L.D.S. temple must obtain special permission to be sealed to a new husband or wife in a temple. The additional authorization is known as a cancellation or clearance of your previous sealing and it is in letter form. As both #5 and I had been married and sealed in a temple to our previous spouses, both of us needed additional authorization to remarry in a temple. And that letter of authorization to do so comes directly from The First Presidency of The Church. They are the only men who grant that permission.

It is a process that takes time. In fact, you never know how long it all can take to gather the required information, complete the interviews necessary and do everything else that is part of obtaining a cancellation or clearance to remarry in a temple. I think for that reason, most L.D.S. couples who remarry choose to marry civilly (not in a L.D.S. temple) initially, and then go to a temple approximately one year after their civil wedding to be sealed to one another.

But that’s not me.

For a variety of reasons, I guess.

My parents raised me to live a life that would allow me to marry in a temple, and I had always chosen to live that way. I hadn’t changed, I didn’t change the way I lived or what I believed in, just because my former spouse made the choices he did. Or because I was divorced or living an unexpected life. A temple marriage was still my ideal. For me, it was the place to marry–my only choice.

I was also raising my children to marry in a temple. I needed to remarry in the temple not just for me, but also as an example to them (especially given the “example” the other Merriman parent had set.)

We began the application process that would allow us to marry in a L.D.S. temple within weeks after we got engaged. We just never realized how long it would take.

“If you are not too long, I will wait here for you all my life.” (Oscar Wilde)

Waiting.

No Dynamite

Date: March 11, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“In the 1950s in Columbia, South Carolina, it was considered OK for kids to play with weird things. We could go to the hardware store and buy 100 feet of dynamite fuse.” (Kary Mullis)

Thank goodness it’s not the 1950s, huh? That seems like a little too much unexpected potential–even for the queen of The Unexpected Life, Andrea Merriman.

But here is something unexpectedly refreshing. I’ve learned, during November 2009-February 2011 as I’ve dated and been engaged to #5, that he is all he has professed to be. Although when we got engaged we never expected to be engaged 9 1/2 months, it has been a great opportunity to REALLY get to know one another; to resolve any issues prior to marriage and especially (for me) to see if #5 is as genuine, real and honest as he seems. (Why would that even be a concern in my world? But it was, especially in the beginning of our relationship–something about 15 years of deception, lies, betrayal and a big Ponzi scheme that can do that to a gal, I guess.)

A highlight of our engagement, for me, that really demonstrated this was a road trip #5 and I took our children on last summer–and the flat tire in the middle of the desert one of the cars got. (You see, we have so many children we don’t own a car we can all fit in (yet.) Everywhere we go, we have to drive at least two cars!) So we’re driving in the middle of nowhere last July and we get a flat tire. The cars were packed with two adults, 7 children, suitcases, sleeping bags, bikes, and all kinds of other stuff. We unloaded the trunk to get the spare tire and jack out; couldn’t get the flat tire off; unloaded the entire cargo area of the OTHER car, too, to find a jack that worked better; and after working on the tire for awhile, we still couldn’t get the flat tire off. So we had to call a tow truck for help.

While waiting for the tow truck, I apologized to #5 several times for the inconvenience. It was my car and the tire was an older one I’d planned to save money on by not replacing until the fall. But #5 just looked at me, smiled, and calmly said, “It’s ok, Andrea. These things happen. They’re minor inconveniences. This, too, shall pass.”

An hour or so later and $100 poorer, we had the old flat tire off, the spare tire on, had repacked everything back into two cars, had loaded the 7 children back in, and were driving down the road again. And #5 was still as patient and calm as he always had been–despite the fact we were trying to get back in town by a certain time because #5 had a meeting he was in charge of.

This, and many other situations and experiences the past 16 months, continued to demonstrate to me that #5 is the real deal. Honest, true, genuine, not perfect (but has never represented himself to be so)–what you see is what you get. Couple that with humility, patience, kindness, thoughtfulness, spirituality, caring and love for his fellow man, brains, talent, work ethic, a sense of humor, good looks and a host of other things (including dance moves!) and you can see why I’m with him!

WHAT a relief.

There is no unexpected dynamite or surprise revelation from the man in my life that I love that is going to gut my world anymore.

“A good way to threaten somebody is to light a stick of dynamite. Then you call the guy and hold the burning fuse up to the phone. ‘Hear that?’ you say. ‘That’s dynamite, baby.’” (Jack Handy)

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!

My Children’s News Story

Date: October 30, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I realized, last night, why I had kids.

“I brought children into this dark world because it needed the light that only a child can bring.” (Liz Armbruster)

Of course that isn’t the only reason, but last night’s news story featuring my teens showed me that isn’t a bad one! They sat and talked with Cheryl Preheim, of the NBC affiliate Channel 9 in Denver, CO, and shared their experiences and things they’ve learned as a result of their unexpected life–and I couldn’t be more grateful for what they’ve gleaned.

Click here to see their news story.

“From out of the mouth of babes.” They’re not babies anymore, but I’m so glad they’re mine.

And although I’m not going to be here, forever, sharing the life lessons I’ve learned about living, what is truly important, and what you do with the unexpected things that happen…thank goodness they might be.

“Children are the living messages we send to a time we will not see.” (Neil Postman, The Disappearance of Childhood(introduction), 1982)

“Fed” By A Daughter

Date: September 3, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

I’ve said it before: I absolutely did not feel any pressure. Bachelor #5 told me not to, so I didn’t. I simply wasn’t ready to think much about anything, especially something of THAT magnitude. However, I couldn’t help but notice some things.

Bachelor #5 took the time to chat with my kids every time he came to pick me up. They really liked him. Even my teenagers would stop what they were doing to talk to him and hang out with him and they didn’t do that with anyone! In those moments, I felt like our family was complete again. And then a thought would jolt me and I’d realize, “No, this is just a man I’m dating who is talking to my kids.” However, it sure felt like something else. But I pushed those thoughts out of my mind.

He went to Hawaii with his sons for one week. And I, the independent single mother of four who had weathered some pretty difficult storms of an unexpected life, felt a void like I can’t describe while he was gone. I attempted to occupy myself with other things (and other men) in his absence, but nothing helped. It was one of the longest weeks of my life. THAT was unexpected. But I didn’t let myself think about that, either.

Then he had my children and I over to his home for a “family night,” stories, games and dessert, one evening. He had separate activities for my younger children and my older teens, and spent one-on-one time with each. He was fun, a great host, and I smiled inside as I intentionally sat there and watched him do it all: keep a busy four-year-old occupied and happy, make a 10-year-old smile and feel important, delight a teenage girl and relate to her (I think he even sang a song for her), and make a teenage boy laugh and stay entertained… while at the same time managing to cook dessert for all of us as he composed a poem about toenail clippings and sausages using 8 words from 8 different foreign languages in minutes. (It was part of a game we were playing. I about fell off my chair when I saw that not only did he instantly and easily know as many words as he needed for the poem, he wrote an amazing and hilarious poem that made us all laugh.)

As I observed him doing all of the above that night, I couldn’t stop my thoughts. I even remember where I was sitting when they came. “Andrea, this feels like you are ‘home.’ It is more than comfortable. It doesn’t feel like you are with a man you’re dating, it feels the way marriage felt; like you are with your family and your family is whole and complete again. You like this man most when you’re alone with him, or when you’re in his home or your home, with the children.”

But I still didn’t get it. (Or let myself get it.) I thought I had to be imagining those feelings. They couldn’t be real, could they? But as I looked around at my children, smiling and laughing, no trace of devastation, sorrow or sadness in their eyes, I wasn’t so sure.

As we left to go home, walking toward the car, my daughter and I were alone and she looked at me and said, “You love him.”

WHAT?

Of course I didn’t!

I immediately launched into what had become my standard explanation and description, “No, he is just a nice older man…blah, blah, blah,” and she shook her head at me in total disbelief. Probably wondering, “Is my mom REALLY that dense?” She gave me a list of evidences and I denied them all, but she moved ahead and walked away, absolutely not believing me, or probably, how blind her mother was!

“Men can starve from a lack of self-realization as much as they can from a lack of bread.” (Richard Wright)

Thank goodness for a beautiful, capable, amazing, selfless, mature, wise and perceptive daughter who was possibly more self-aware of her mother than her mother was!

And as I followed her to the car I was stunned to realize, in that moment, that she might be right.