Living Happily Ever After
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Don’t Sit Home

Date: March 18, 2013  Author: Andrea Merriman

My recent job change has reminded me of one key to success in living an unexpected life: don’t sit home and think about it! Do what you have to do. Carry on.

A few weeks ago, the night before my first day at my new job, my daughter asked, “Mom, are you afraid?”

Her question surprised me. No, I wasn’t afraid–I hadn’t even thought to be! (Quite a different experience than the last time I began a new job: 2009. And it made me realize, yet again, how far I (and my children) have come.) The last time I began a new job, I had been thrust into the middle of a giant nightmare of which probably every fear I’d ever had (rational or irrational), or that had been a part of a nightmare as I slept, or that was the worst-case-scenario from fictional Hollywood movies, were my sudden reality. (If I’m going to be honest about that time…I was afraid of practically everything! Including, even, my own name. Every time I said my name, Andrea Merriman, I  feared someone would recognize it and judge me just based on that.)

But I’ve never believed fear is permission to quit or give up, however tempting that may be. (And thankfully I had four children to provide for, to keep alive, which helped me rise above the temptation to hide!) Fear just adds to the challenge of carrying on and of living. But you still have to do it.

So I faced my fears every day. I got out of bed and went to work, no matter how difficult; and many days, it was incredibly difficult–a sick pit in my stomach every Sunday night knowing another work week lay ahead; an inability to sleep at night worrying about the coming work week and wondering how I was going to get through it; crying all the way in to work; managing to get through the work day and then crying all the way home from work; and walking in the door to begin another “full day” of work as a single mother during the evening hours, catching up on everything I’d missed during the day while at work, helping with dinner, dishes, homework, laundry, housework, reading to a child and a few attempts at new family memories as well. I confess there were nights my 3 year old didn’t go to bed until 11 p.m. and I would later fall into bed, exhausted, at 1 a.m. or later to arise a few hours later, at 6 a.m. to begin it all over again!

But I guess the point is…that we did it. We got up, we faced our fears, and eventually we triumphed over them. And at some point, the sick stomach went away, eventually I was able to sleep at night, at some point I was able to get my youngest in bed at a decent hour, and I not only did my job, but had professional success which resulted in a new opportunity. Most of all, however, I somehow “forgot” to be afraid.

“If you want to conquer fear, don’t sit home and think about it. Get out and get busy.” (Dale Carnegie)

It worked for me.

A Signature

Date: March 17, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“The past is behind, learn from it.” (Thomas S. Monson)

As I’ve mentioned before, after we married my husband and his son moved into our home. To ease his son’s “culture shock,” my husband modified my family and house rules for his son. Which meant four children in the home lived one way and one child in the home lived another way. I don’t know what the experts would say about that but lets just say I wasn’t surprised when it didn’t appear to work. Honestly, I think it was frustrating for all parties involved. For my stepson, and despite the modifications, it still wasn’t his family, his former life, his former home and the way he was used to living, so I don’t think he was happy even with the modifications. Some of the children in the home couldn’t help but notice (and comment) about the differences and some of the younger children hounded me to have the same privileges and rules as the stepson instead of the ones our family had always lived by. With each passing month, it seemed to me like the arrangement wasn’t working very well but there was nothing I could do, I was the powerless new step-parent. And my poor husband simply tried to hold it all together for as long as he could!

Six months later my stepson moved in with his mother. He appeared happy to have a peaceful and quiet life again and to have his wishes repected regarding his living situation. I hoped it would turn out to be a good decision for him and that he would finally be happy. My husband missed his son.

A few months after that, my husband’s daughter was struggling in her life and living situation and it became necessary for her to find a new place to live. When the news reached her mother, she showed up on our porch one night, worried, emotional and panicked…and told my husband she couldn’t take her. Due to the challenges involved, my husband had some reservations about our ability to accommodate the needs of his daughter but we decided to give it a try. However, we had learned a few things from the previous experience; lessons taught to us courtesy of our inexperience and I wasn’t about to repeat them again!

I told my husband that for our situation, a contract (outlining rules, expectations and why things were expected, our parenting philosophy, etc…) was necessary. I wanted everyone involved to know and understand why I do what I do and why I emphasize certain things in the lives of the children I raise in our home. (Things like family time, chores/service to the family, good attitudes, faith/church activity, education/homework/good grades, obedience; I don’t think I insist on totally terrible or unrealistic things!) I was happy to do my part, but I wanted everyone to do their part, as well—including backing me up as a parent in my own home. I may have also said (ok, I totally did say) that unless all parties agreed to it and signed the document, we’d have to re-evaluate the situation and our decision. I feel THAT strongly that parents should be able to parent the children living in their home, regardless of who the children are, and I feel that way for so many reasons (to0 many to detail here.)

Interestingly, my husband consulted a counselor who suggested the very thing I had. The counselor had worked with teenage girls and their mothers just like my husband’s and advised, “Get it in writing and have all of the adults sign it.” I was assigned the task of writing the document, probably because I was the parent who felt very strongly about some things based on our previous experience (aka. I was the parent with the issues and concerns!) I wrote it, gave it to my husband, he reviewed it and added his input, and then I looked at him and said, “Now it’s your job to get it signed.”

Poor guy.

I know Hollywood makes divorce look easy, like it’s blissful and easy to separate, rebuild new lives, create new families and everyone can be one big happy family–the husband, the wife, ex-wives, ex-husbands, stepchildren, half-siblings, in-laws, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and everyone else involved. I know some families who have done that and it works for them. I’m sure the aforementioned situation is true in every situation…but ours. And while we’re only one year into it and I know things change and ease into place over time, at this point, I believe in being polite and kind to everyone but my opinion (and take it with a grain of salt because I’m not a fan of divorce and never have been; my husband says my views of divorce and my ideas about it are “archaic”—right out of the 1970s!) is that there’s usually a reason men and women choose to divorce, preferring to destroy their family unit and put their children and their finances through all that that entails rather than remain married to one another. I believe if you can get along well enough to be one big happy family, spend your holidays together, and be good friends post-divorce, you should probably just work out your issues and remain married in the first place!

My husband had to get the document signed and by that time, I think he had a lot of hope. He had the chance to live with one of his children again and  he desperately wanted to live one of his children again. He had a lot riding on that document. He needed his ex-wife’s signature to make it all possible and he was worried about that last tiny detail of the deal.

A signature.

“A signature always reveals a man’s character – and sometimes even his name.” (Evan Esar)

Second Marriage Moment #29

Date: January 31, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“I never made a mistake in grammar but one in my life and as soon as I done it I seen it.” (Carl Sandburg)

Lest I give the impression karaoke was the sole highlight of our cruise, there are a few other moments, in the interest of remarriage, worth mentioning.

The first took place in a candy store. My husband and our group were shopping and he called to me to look at something. Or at least he meant to. What actually came out of his mouth was…his ex-wife’s name!

I don’t know how every remarriage is, but I confess, it’s something I’d wondered about happening or worried might happen at some point, on either side, given we’d both been married for 20 years. Poor guy! Although he occasionally calls his children by the wrong names, he had made it through all 6 months of our dating, the almost 10 months of our engagement and the entire 7 1/2 months of our marriage without a slip.

And then he did it.

And to be honest, I was just glad it was him and not me that made a slip like that.

As soon as he said it, I saw him freeze, as did the rest of our group around him. I didn’t let him off the hook completely, though. I made a joke about it and then I continued on with what I was doing. My husband came right over to me and apologized, “I am SO sorry! I did not mean to do that, I can’t believe I just did that…” I told him not to worry about it, and I meant it.

As we left the store, he apologized for the mistake again. (He REALLY felt bad!) I told him, again, not to worry about it. I really wasn’t mad. I figure that although I don’t want it become a habit, I’m the woman who got him so that makes me pretty lucky. So lucky, in fact, I can overlook a one-time slip of the tongue. Especially when I’ve had my own moment of “brain freeze,” as well. (But that’s another blog post for another day.)

After all,  ”It ain’t what they call you, it’s what you answer to.” (W.C. Fields)

These days, it’s Mrs. Ramsey. And I couldn’t be happier.

Living Legend

Date: April 27, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Deangelo: ‘Why do you use your name when you answer the phone?’ Erin: ‘Oh, that’s how Pam does it. I just copy her. She’s sort of a living legend.’” (The Office)

I had my new name, not too long thanks to the Social Security Administration, and now all I had to do was remember it. And answer to it. Easier said than done, as it turns out.

One Sunday, sitting in the women’s meeting at church, I suddenly noticed everyone in the room looking at me and laughing. They joked, “She doesn’t even know her name!” I assumed they must have called me “Andrea Ramsey” and I had failed to respond to it.

After the meeting a friend joked with me about it and I promised I’d get my name right the next time. That was when I found out they were laughing because they had called me “Andrea Ramsey” not just once, but THREE times! And it hadn’t registered with me, I hadn’t realized they meant me and had failed to respond to it every single time!

“Respond intelligently…” (Lao Tzu)

If you can. I’m going to work on that.

Second marriage moment #7.


My Ellis Island

Date: April 26, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Choose your new name carefully. Practice signing with it. Have a few people close to you call you by that name, and see how you like it. You can change your first name, middle name, last name, or all of the above. Just make sure your new name doesn’t imply “fraudulent intent” or is not in the public interest.” (wikiHow)

I took more time off work and returned to the Social Security Office the very next morning. I thought, since they closed at 4 p.m., that they’d open at 8 a.m. but I was wrong. I waited an hour for the doors to open, took a number (I was first in line and got the first number of the day), and stepped forward to wait my turn.

As I stood there waiting for my number to be called, the only clerk helped someone. Then another person. Then another. I finally stepped forward and asked, “Excuse me, are you calling numbers?”

The clerk looked at me with a blank expression. I explained, “The guard told us to take a number as we walked through the door, you have several signs posted that direct us to take numbers, but I haven’t heard you call any numbers…”

Despite the full waiting room, they hadn’t been calling numbers. But they decided to help me next anyway. I stepped forward, thoroughly prepared for the name change (after all, it was my second attempt to change my name at the Social Security Office; I’d had an additional wait I hadn’t planned on which gave me time to make sure I’d filled everything out correctly) and handed the clerk my paperwork. The paperwork to add “Ramsey” to my name, to make it my new and official last name.

Unfortunately, the clerk had a problem with it. “It’s too long,” she said.

“What?”

She showed me that her computer screen had three boxes: first name, middle name, and last name; with a limited number of characters per box. My proposed name was too long for the Social Security Administration computers! She told me I could have three names. I asked, “Wait a second–what about the famous people and movie stars who name their children 5-6 names? How do they do that, if my 34 letter name is too long?”

She said she didn’t know, but I had these options: my maiden name with the addition of “Ramsey,” “Andrea Merriman Ramsey” (without any part of my middle or maiden names),  ”Andrea Merriman-Ramsey” (but I’d have to sign that long last name every time I signed my name, not to mention it would give me a last name different than my children AND my husband!), Andrea L.C. Merriman Ramsey,” “Andrea L.C.M. Ramsey,” and a few other options. I stood at the counter, suddenly unprepared, facing a huge decision that was going to follow me every day of my life, and feeling pressure to hurry because I had to get to work and I knew other people in the room were waiting!

It was my own, personal Ellis Island.

But there wasn’t time to choose my name carefully because I had already carefully chosen my name and it had been rejected by the government, I had to get to work and people were waiting for me to make a decision and complete my business. I never thought to practice signing it. And at that point in my life, I was being called by pretty much anything and everything–no one was sure what I was going to go by. In fact, one Sunday the program at church one listed me by one name in one spot and a different name in a different spot!

Basically, it came down to the fact that I could use my maiden name (the name my church records used and the name of my parents, my ancestors and my heritage) or Merriman (the name of the man I wasn’t married to anymore.) In that moment, that spur of the moment, I chose my heritage. Merriman was gone.

Second marriage moment #6.

“I know who I WAS when I got up this morning, but I think I must have changed several times since then.” (Lewis Carroll, Alice In Wonderland)

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)


Name Change

Date: April 1, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“There was my name up in lights. I said, ‘Somebody’s made a mistake.’ But there it was, in lights. And I sat there and said, ‘Remember, you’re not a star.’ Yet there it was up in lights.” (Marilyn Monroe)

When I married the first time, it was the 1980s and I liked my name; I didn’t plan to change it. That turned out to be possibly the only “fight” I had with Shawn Merriman before I married him. I ended up changing my name. I became Andrea Merriman.

Twenty years of marriage and four children later, when I divorced, I kept the name Andrea Merriman. I laughed to think that as much as I hadn’t wanted to become “Merriman” when I married, it was the one thing I kept when I divorced! My decision to keep my name surprised Shawn Merriman, but I did it for my children: their dad was going to prison; their paternal grandparents hadn’t contacted them or their father through the whole Ponzi scheme nightmare (other than to send my two oldest birthday cards in which they didn’t mention our troubles or even offer a word of encouragement beyond what had been generically, pre-printed on the birthday card and then to send the judge sentencing their son a letter encouraging her to “give him the maximum, make him pay for what he did.”) I felt like my kids needed family; family that shared their name, at that difficult time. I didn’t want my children to feel they were alone; the only four Merrimans in the world. At least with me, their mother, there were five of us! The Five Musketeers, in our own way.

However, my children, initially, didn’t appreciate my decision. (Believe me when I say that back in 2009, I couldn’t seem to please anyone! It wasn’t just angry neighbors or victims that weren’t happy with my choices to put my children first! Even my own children didn’t always appreciate my reasoning or the decisions I made.) Several times they asked why I didn’t change my name to Christensen and why I didn’t change their names to that, too! It’s hard to describe or understand, but lets just say it was a difficult and humiliating time; we cringed every time the name Merriman was spoken, wondering who would realize we were related to Shawn Merriman if they heard it, what others might think of us, and how we would be judged, or treated, once the connection was made. In fact, my older children were pushing so hard for a name change I wrote it into my divorce: that I was free to change my children’s names, any time I wanted, without permission or consent from their father.

However, I refused to let my children make the decision to change their entire identity in the heat of a hard moment. They had lost their entire world as they knew it, and if they lost their name, their identity, in addition to everything else, they truly would have lost absolutely everything and I didn’t know what the ramifications of that might be in the future. So we held on to Merriman for the time being.

And then we healed. And then I got engaged. And we all continued to heal.

Shortly after our engagement, the first time #5 mentioned–assumed–I would change my name when we married I was surprised. I was almost 43 years old and had been who I am for a LONG time. Even through the trauma of my unexpected life. I had become ok with being Andrea Merriman again. I wasn’t ashamed or humiliated by the actions of another any more. I remarked, “Oh, I didn’t think I would change my name, I wasn’t planning on it.” From the look of surprise on #5′s face, I realized he had an expectation contrary to mine so I added, “Unless it’s important to you. Is it important to you? If it is, we can talk about it.”

He graciously said no, whatever I wanted to do was fine with him. I thought that settled it, except every few months of our engagement #5 would occasionally question, “So what about your name? Have you thought about what you’re going to do when we get married, if you’re changing your name or not?” My answer was always the same: no, I hadn’t thought about it. I actually thought our initial discussion had settled it, but after 2-3 such conversations I realized despite what he said, it was important to #5 that I change my name or he wouldn’t keep bringing it up. However, I appreciated the fact that he was very willing to accommodate my unwillingness to change my name. He didn’t pressure me, didn’t tell me he wanted me to change my name outright, he just “subtly” mentioned it occasionally!

Then one night we went to Costco. That evening sealed it for me.

We both had memberships that were expiring. Since we were marrying, we wanted only one account. I was digging through my purse looking for something while #5 took care of the membership. By the time he finished with the clerk, I’d found what I’d been looking for, he handed me my card without a word, and I put it away as we walked out. It was just an ordinary Costco card. But something about it caught my eye as I slipped it into my wallet. Could it have been the name “Andrea Ramsey” printed on it? I didn’t comment, but shook my head and laughed. The name change issue was resolved without another word. It CLEARLY was important to him. So I decided I needed to do it.

I just had to prepare my children.

At first I don’t think they were thrilled. I’d given them a very good P.R. pitch about Merriman and why I was keeping that name when I divorced. They even suggested I hyphenate: Merriman-Ramsey. But that is a mouthful, not to mention a lot to write, and it didn’t give me the same name as anyone–#5 or my children. When I explained I was doing it because I would be married to #5 and I sensed it was important to him, they didn’t say another word. (They have been incredibly supportive of every change that has come as a result of joining our lives together.) They only had one concern after that: did they have to change their names too?

Nope.

From the relief in their eyes and on their faces I saw just how much they had healed in the two years since our unexpected life began. Their humiliation is gone! They are Merriman and want to remain that. I bet they don’t even remember the days they begged me to change their names. Their passion for their name showed me just how thoroughly and completely they are healing, and I am grateful.

So while I never ever expected my children would ever have a different name than mine, we’re learning it’s just one more unexpected aspect of…the unexpected life. So we’re rolling with it.

But just in case you’re considering a name change for YOUR children, for whatever reason, here’s a handy tip from Bill Cosby I thought I’d pass along: “Always end the name of your child with a vowel, so that when you yell, the name will carry.”

Lol.

A Brief Wave of Nausea

Date: March 31, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Bob Marley isn’t my name. I don’t even know my name yet.” (Bob Marley)

The screeching halt of shock. Then silence. A brief wave of nausea (but at least I didn’t throw up!) and then I was excited again. I guess that question just caught me off-guard for a moment and I couldn’t help but notice #5′s face change from his initial joy, manifest in a huge smile, to worry and concern (in the brief time it took me to work through my shock and nausea) then back to a smile as I looked up at him and answered his question with a resounding, “YES.”

And honestly, I mostly meant it.

I was simply having a moment of deer-caught-in-headlights. A lot of changes were coming. FAST. In less than one week. And suddenly, I didn’t feel quite as ready or prepared.

I wish I didn’t unintentionally worry about things like that, occasionally, but I’m realizing it’s what I’ve always done when big changes come.

The remedy? All I had to do was think back to the night #5 dumped me and remember how I felt and that I wondered how I was going to live with out him, and I was calm and peaceful about the whole thing again. (Once again, the hard things can be a great help to us in ways we don’t expect!)

“All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.” (Anatole France)