Living Happily Ever After
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Blog Articles

The Greatest Bit of Wisdom

Date: May 25, 2012  Author: Andrea Merriman

“To help my muscles rebuild after I work out, I have a small serving of cottage cheese.” (Brooke Burns)

Cottage cheese. Great for rebuilding muscles after strenuous physical activity, but what do you utilize when your task is to rebuild a life after the one you’ve always lived (and quite enjoyed) is destroyed?

Some choose to utilize the “Q” word—quit. But I say: have the courage to take stock of what you’re left with. No matter your loss, you’re still going to be left with SOMETHING. So choose to be grateful for what you’re left with, no matter how insignificant it looks at the time, and use it, whatever it is, to rebuild a new life. One you can find happiness and absolute joy through…if you choose to.

Remember, “Luck exists in the leftovers.” (Japanese proverb) And thanks to Mr. Hannah, my amazing 4th grade teacher, I know what luck is: preparation meets opportunity. You can make your own “luck” out of the “leftovers” you’re left with. With preparation (the life you’ve lived, everything you’ve learned and know, the talents you’ve been blessed with, a LOT of hard work and endurance) and opportunity (the unexpected life you’ve been handed) you CAN create a happily ever after. One you never EVER would have imagined for yourself, one you may not have chosen if given the chance, for sure one you never saw coming, but if you’re “lucky,” you’ll realize you’ve one day arrived at.

The unexpected life.

And my guess is…at that point…you wouldn’t choose to have it any other way.

“What we call the secret of happiness is no more a secret than our willingness to choose life.” (Leo Buscaglia)

Hamsters Do It All The Time

Date: January 10, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

Q: “Is there any living species of animals that feed on their young?
A: A lot of them. Many invertebrates (like insects and spiders) will eat their young…most fish will eat the young as they do not distinguish their young from others. Some mammals will kill and eat the young if stressed.  Hamsters do it all the time. As a kid I raised mink and we had problems. In a thunderstorm the female may devour the young. Much of the cannibalism among mammals is caused by stress and not hunger.” (AllExperts.com)

I’m pretty sure there’s a Proverb about “One bad apple spoils the whole bunch.” And since I’ve never taken the time to thank that one bad apple, I thought I’d do it now.
I was snuggling with my youngest before bed recently, which led to an interesting conversation. His arms were wrapped tightly around my neck, squeezing almost to the point of choking me (anyone who has hugged a toddler/small child knows the kind of hug I’m talking about!) He had just finished whisper-singing a few songs in my ear and we lay face to face, chatting about anything and everything and soon, our talk turned to love.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mommy.”
“I love you more.”
“How much?”
“I love you SO MUCH…I could eat you up!” And I kissed his cheek, his neck, the top of his head, and tickled him a little bit for good measure. (Ok, and I admit it, I may have pretended to gobble him up, but only a little bit.)
He stopped, released his hold on me, pulled back, looked me right in the eye with a bit of suspicion, trepidation and uncertainty and clarified, “But you wouldn’t ACTUALLY eat one of your children…would you, Mom?”
No, I would not. I promise I will not. In fact, I can guarantee it. But how remiss of me to never have thanked the spiders, insects and other creatures who apparently do and who have given the rest of us mothers a bad rap. Thank you. And despite the fact that apparently hamsters do it all the time, I promise I don’t. And won’t.
“I love running cross country…On a track, I feel like a hamster.” (Robin Williams)


Focus

Date: December 8, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“My theory on housework is, if the item doesn’t multiply, smell, catch fire, or block the refrigerator door, let it be. No one else cares. Why should you?” (Erma Bombeck)

Shortly after I began my unexpected life, a friend, who had been a single mother herself, emailed and gave me some advice about that aspect of my new life. She told me when I came home from work, to fight the urge to clean the house, do the laundry and other household tasks that would take my attention away from my children and instead, focus on my kids.

I hope that’s what I would have done anyway, but her advice helped me keep my priorities where they needed to be, on my children—and helping them adjust and heal—rather than spending all of my time folding clean clothes or cleaning the house (which would have been messy by the time I got home from work anyway.)

I’m so thankful she shared her perspective with me, and that I had the good sense to listen to her counsel. Of course, I’m not advocating no one ever clean their house again, I’m just saying that I think it has been a blessing to my sanity and a good thing for my kids that as a single, working mother, I gave myself permission to let some of the housework go so I didn’t miss the important moments with my children—they’re doing well, and despite the fact they’re growing up in a less than spotless home, they are healing, happy and most importantly, smiling!

I chose to follow my friend’s good  advice, and I’m so glad I did. ”You have a lifetime to work, but children are only young once.”  (Polish Proverb)

Swimming Lesson for Life

Date: November 7, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“It’s been told that swimming is a wimp sport, but I don’t see it.  We don’t get timeouts, in the middle of a race we can’t stop and catch our breath, we can’t roll on our stomachs and lie there, and we can’t ask for a substitution.” (Dusty Hicks)

I spent the first five years of my life in Arizona. We lived in a community surrounding a golf course. Almost every home, but ours, had a swimming pool. And there were no fences. Needless to say, parents taught their children to swim at a very early age.

Swimming lessons are some of my earliest memories. And the one I remember best took place when I was about 3 years old. That was the day my instructor, Mr. Shipley, went beyond teaching me how to save myself if I fell into the water near the edge of a pool. He wanted me to know how to save myself any time, anywhere, and in any water. That must have been why they paid him the big bucks. He was a life saver, literally. But I was too young to appreciate it at the time. I didn’t love Mr. Shipley or swimming lessons. But you don’t always immediately appreciate those things that teach you the most important life lessons.

The day came when he told me to jump off the diving board and save myself.

I felt like Bob Marley must have felt when he said, “Well, me don’t swim too tough so me don’t go in the water too deep.” (Bob Marley)

No way.

My respect for authority was overpowered by my absolute fear of death and drowning.

Mr. Shipley wasn’t up for a debate. He picked me up, walked to the edge of the diving board, and threw me in.

I went in the water; bubbles and blue everywhere I looked. I was terrified of sinking to the bottom and becoming lost forever, so I looked up, at the lighter blue surface of the water, and kicked and paddled for all I was worth. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live. And somehow I had the impression Mr. Shipley wasn’t going to do anything to help me; it was up to me.

I kept focused on the water’s surface. I didn’t quit clawing. And somehow before I ran out of breath and drowned, I broke the surface of the water. I could hear clapping and cheering from the edges of the pool, but no one jumped in to rescue me; it was still up to me to get myself from the center of the deep end of the pool to the safety of an edge. So I continued paddling.

I got there.

I felt the strong arms of Mr. Shipley grab me, pull me out of the water, and heard him tell me he knew along I could do it.

My swimming lessons with him were over.

I had learned what to do and how to save myself from an unexpected water adventure.

He put me on the community swim team, instead. Where each week I had to voluntarily jump in the water and not only make it to the other side, but get there in good time. By the time I was 4, I was winning races.

The unexpected life is kind of like that. One moment, you’re safely on the deck or diving board. The next, you’re flailing and floundering in the water. But I learned at a young age you’re only sunk when you quit trying to save yourself; when you quit, give up and let yourself sink to the bottom. However, if you keep clawing your way to break the surface of the water (so you can breathe again) you will make it. Hopefully, you’ll even learn to enjoy swimming. But if not, I guarantee you’ll always be grateful for what you got through and for what you learned in the process.

“No man drowns if he perseveres in praying to God, and can swim.”  (Russian Proverb)

Lives

Date: October 7, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“A woman hath nine lives like a cat.” (Proverb)

Someone joked with me that I’ve lived many lives. As soon as I thought about it, I realized they were right:

I lived my childhood life, prior to 1986, when my dad died unexpectedly in a plane crash.

I lived my young adult years, another life, as the daughter of a widowed, single mother.

I got engaged, married, and lived my adult life as the wife of Shawn Merriman, married without children.

I also lived my life as the wife of Shawn Merriman, married with children; a stay-at-home mother.

It seemed like another lifetime, but was really only four months, when I lived a life as the legal wife of Shawn Merriman; filing divorce paperwork and waiting as the request to dissolve my marriage was finalized, wrapping up the details of my old life, and trying to prepare for my new and unexpected one as a result of the crimes and Ponzi scheme my husband, unbeknownst to me, had perpetrated.

I lived another life as a divorced, single mother of four children, working full-time.

And then I got engaged to Bachelor #5. He suggested we marry in September. It seemed so sudden.

I wrote a list of everything I needed to accomplish before a wedding. There were 32 items on my list. Nearly three months later I looked at my list. I had completed just two of 32 tasks (neither of which was a dress to wear when I married or any other wedding detail) and the September deadline was looming. Add to that some delays we couldn’t negotiate and work around, and Bachelor #5 and I realized September wasn’t going to be a month we heard wedding bells pealing in our behalf.

Lets just say marrying in your 40s, blending eight children and two families, combining two adult lives, and everything else that is part of a remarriage is slightly more complicated (and takes a lot more time) than getting married when you’re young, carefree…and in your 20s!

The good news? As Bachelor #5 pointed out, “There won’t be ANYTHING we don’t know about each other by the time we finally marry. There won’t be ANY surprises!” (I love that he was looking for the good in the situation, by the way.) But he was right.

We’ve had some interesting engagement adventures for sure. Stay tuned. You see, September has come and gone. And although I hate to ruin the story I must confess: I’m not married yet. My engagement to Bachelor #5 seems to be lasting its own lifetime! Add it, as another life, to my list. Seven lives so far and I’m only 43 years old.

At this point, I’m hoping women actually have MORE than the nine lives cats are reputed to enjoy.

Because thanks to my unexpected life, I think I’m going to need them.

Aren’t we all?