Living Happily Ever After
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Fairies And Wings And…Teeth

Date: April 28, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Listen to the wisdom of the toothless ones.” (Fijian Proverb)

A few weeks into our marriage, my middle son lost a tooth. He excitedly placed it in the special tooth fairy box (after several kids’ lost teeth, I found there was something easier than digging around underneath a pillow in the dark!) on the nightstand beside his bed and anxiously waited to see what the tooth fairy would deliver by morning.

The only problem?

He forgot to tell me what he had done. And I, his mother, had a few things on my mind: four children, new stepchildren, condensing houses, adjusting to everyone living together, full-time job, getting everyone where they needed to be at the times they needed to be there, my new marriage, and the usual worries and cares regarding bills and finances. Amidst all the other stuff, I forgot that most important item, nestled in its box, in the basement.

After a day or two of forgetfulness, my son said, “Sure do wish the tooth fairy could make a visit and hopefully leave me some money!” Oops.

A day or two after that my son reminded, “Can you believe it’s taking the tooth fairy so long to find me and my tooth?” Nope.

A few days later my son warned, “My tooth is ROTTING in the box!” Yuck. I’m not sure I want to discover what that means.

Of course, #5 wasn’t much help. He never remembered, himself, and never even remembered to remind me! Instead, he asked my son if he realized silver teeth were worth more than regular ones. Before my son got too excited at the prospect of that, I had to clarify that this daughter-of-a-former-dentist did NOT believe the tooth fairy valued a tooth so cavity-filled it had needed a silver cap on it as more valuable than a normal, healthy, cavity-free tooth! Another time #5 asked my son if he realized the longer you had to wait for the tooth fairy to take your tooth, the more money she generally left. I had to quash that one, too. (The adjustments you have to make in a second marriage–you’re both coming from two totally different worlds, with different ideas and expectations…even regarding the tooth fairy! Lol, but true.) We endured several nights of forgetfulness and then the one night before bed, when I actually did remember there was a duty to be done, I couldn’t find any cash in the entire house!

One evening, when I checked on my son before I went to bed, I saw a note he had written to remind the tooth fairy of the duty she had neglected–almost begging her to take his tooth! I dashed back upstairs, found some money, and quietly snuck through the dark of his bedroom, opened the lid of the tooth fairy box, dropped the cash in, and ran back upstairs before I was caught in the act of aiding and abetting the fairy of all things dental.

I couldn’t wait for the next morning, when my son discovered his reward and realized he hadn’t been forgotten after all! And it couldn’t have happened at a better time. Just when I was starting to feel like a loser mother, I had remembered what I needed to. Great job, Andrea! (I couldn’t help but congratulate myself on an important job, finally, well-done.)

The next morning my son appeared in the kitchen. I was brimming with expectation and excitement and he only slightly let me down when he said, “The tooth fairy came! She even gave me $1! But can you believe…she forgot to take my tooth?”

Sometimes you just can’t get it right.

Even if you’re trying to help the tooth fairy out.

Especially if you’re a newlywed.

Second marriage moment #8.

“All I know is that I’ve ruled out wearing fairy wings. When I was nine I wanted to get married in fairy wings, and now I realize that’s not cool anymore.” (Isla Fisher)

The Hardest Thing

Date: January 8, 2011  Author: Andrea Merriman

I went to my first kick boxing class recently. I left feeling pretty inept at boxing. Sort of the way I felt the last time I came even close to boxing. In the 1980s. In high school. It was SO “not me.”

I blame it on basketball–one game in particular, and it didn’t even count, it was P.E.! A friend and I played a game of 2 on 5, against a group of five, short Hispanic girls…and it wasn’t pretty…because my friend and I actually played basketball outside of P.E. and we were beating them soundly. The other girls were frustrated, but it didn’t dawn on me (like it would now) to let them win or at least score a few points. It was my experience that “you win some, you lose some,” that’s part of playing the game, and I preferred to win as much as I could.

The next thing I knew, I was on my back, just outside the key. My friend was leaning over me, worried, questioning, “Are you ok?” The other team was standing around with satisfied smirks on their faces as my friend filled me in: while I’d been airborne for a rebound, one of the short girls had gone for my pony tail, grabbed it, forcefully yanked me down from behind, flat on my back onto the court, which knocked me out when I landed!

Told you they were frustrated.

I got back up and continued to play. But every time one of the other team got near me they talked trash and threatened to beat me up outside of class. I ignored them; I thought they had to be kidding. I mean, fight? In my world, that behavior never dawned on me. No one I knew fought or even thought about beating anyone up. I thought they were kidding–until they followed me around everywhere and warned me I’d better pray they never caught me alone or better yet, alone in a bathroom.

I didn’t respond to their threats, I ignored their taunts, I pretended I didn’t see them trailing me (but I confess I was always relieved when I walked into a bathroom and saw other girls in there, just in case) and after what seems like a few weeks (but was probably more like a few days) P.E. ended and I don’t remember ever seeing those angry girls again.

That’s my near-boxing experience.

“I’ll bet the hardest thing about prize fightin’ is pickin’ up yer teeth with a boxin’ glove on.” (Kin Hubbard)

Add pickin’ up yer teeth with boxin’ gloves on to the list of hard things in, and about, life.

Challenges.

Things like sickness, death, disease, poverty, crime, betrayal, divorce, unemployment, emotional trauma, abuse, too much, too little, and every other unexpected challenge that comes your way. Life is full of hard stuff. In fact, life, itself, is hard. As Katherine Hepburn said, “Life is hard. After all, it kills you.”

But before it does, at least TRY to pick up yer teeth. Don’t quit until you succeed in clearing the floor of your molars and cuspids, or whatever your adversity may be. I’ve found, sometimes, that what I’m going through isn’t quite as hard as picking up teeth with boxing gloves on would be (while other times, one year in particular, I admit to wondering if dying wouldn’t have been easier than the challenges I was facing. Thank goodness I never, personally, discovered the answer to that myself.)

Because when you’ve collected your teeth and pulled yourself together, when the bell has rung and you’re back in the match giving it all you’ve got, there’s nothing quite as exhilarating as a knock out. The knock out that comes at the end when you win because you endured. Victory.

The more I think about it, boxing is a lot like the unexpected life. Here’s why:

“As much as I love boxing, I hate it. And as much as I hate it, I love it.” (Budd Schulberg) At some point, we probably all have a love-hate relationship with our new and unexpected life. As much as we love it, we wouldn’t have chosen it. And as much as we may dislike certain aspects of it or the way certain things are, we wouldn’t trade it for the alternative. Life is glorious, regardless of your circumstances.

“Boxing gave me the opportunities to grow into the person that I am today.” (Alexis Arguello) Where would we be, who would we have become, what would we have learned, how would we have grown…without our unexpected life?

“Boxing is the ultimate challenge. There’s nothing that can compare to testing yourself the way you do every time you step in the ring.” (Sugar Ray Leonard) Life, especially the unexpected one, is a test every single day. So it’s vital we get through it. With a passing grade, or better yet, an A+. Our score lies in how we choose to solve the problems and answer the questions put before us.

“Boxing was not something I truly enjoyed. Like a lot of things in life, when you put the gloves on, it’s better to give than to receive.” (Sugar Ray Leonard) Don’t underestimate the importance of giving, giving back, and making the way easier for others as you travel through life. I can’t imagine where my children and I would be today if we hadn’t had a little help from our friends, if others hadn’t reached out to us and helped make our way easier. Truly, it IS better to give than to receive.

So don’t quit. Hang in there until the bell rings and you get a breather. Don’t expect to understand everything all at once, or even in this lifetime. Just trust, as I do, that someday we will be able to see the grand design of a beautiful plan put in place just for us and our necessary growth. Someday, every mystery will be solved.

“When archaeologists discover the missing arms of Venus de Milo, they will find she was wearing boxing gloves.” (John Barrymore)

The unexpected life.

Ding-ding!

A Hairy Proposition: Life

Date: November 11, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“Life is an endless struggle full of frustrations and challenges, but eventually you find a hair stylist you like.” (Author Unknown)

As I write, “Hairspray” is on t.v. and it has gotten me thinking of Tracy Turnblat. Now there was a girl with hopes and dreams and challenges. She didn’t necessarily have everything going for her, but she didn’t quit. She managed to make her dreams come true despite her unexpected challenges in life–and never stopped singing about it, or dancing!

Tracy was more than a cute, perky bouffant. She was on to something. In fact,  I think we don’t have to look past the strands of our own hair for the keys to living a happy life.  (And not to tout my credentials or anything, but having had the 60s pixie cut, the 70s “Dorothy Hamill”, the Farrah Fawcett do, Olivia Newton John’s “Xanadu”–ribbons streaming down the side twists of my hair, the 80s bob, the 90s “Rachel,” and my share of perms and highlights, I like to think I know what I’m talking about.) Here’s what I’ve gleaned from…hair.

How can I control my life when I can’t control my hair?” (Author Unknown)

Lesson #1. You can’t control life or the unexpected things that happen. Don’t even expect to. Just know sometimes things beyond your control are going to bless your life, and you’ve just got to “relax” until your hairstyle becomes you again.

“It is foolish to tear one’s hair in grief, as though sorrow would be made less by baldness.” (Cicero)

Lesson #2. Tearing your hair out, won’t improve the situation. Baldness doesn’t always make sorrow sweet, and I don’t think it’s conducive to dating (if you’re a woman.) Scream into a pillow, punch a pillow if you must, but then plaster on that smile (fake as it may be in the beginning sometimes) and press forward. Things WILL get better. And until they do, take it easy on your locks.

“Hair is the first thing. And teeth the second. Hair and teeth. A man got those two things he’s got it all.” (James Brown)

Lesson #3: Count your blessings, especially in the midst of adversity. (I’ve had my bad attitude days of counting only two blessings: that I was still breathing and that I was a mother, but I still found two!) We’re all richer than we realize. And James is right: hair and teeth? Check. You’ve got it all!

“Gorgeous hair is the best revenge.” (Ivana Trump)

Lesson #4: Remember that eventually, you’ll have good hair days, even happiness, again. I think that is the best revenge on the unexpected life–hair-flipping-happiness once more! So when the lice of things unexpected infest you, when through no choice of your own your beautiful, flowing tresses are shaved away by challenges, circumstances, adversity, the actions of others and every other part of the unexpected life, don’t give up. Grow your hair back–better, longer and more beautiful than ever!

“Once you’ve had chemotherapy, there’s no such thing as a bad-hair day.” (Elizabeth Tilberis)

Lesson #5: Keep it all in perspective. I mean, when you’ve lost your entire life, you learn to appreciate whatever life you’re left with or that you can salvage out of the destruction. As my mom used to say, something is better than nothing! And in my experience, the something is even better, in many ways, than what used to be.

After all, “It’s not the hair on your head that matters. It’s the kind of hair you have inside.” (Garry Shandling)

Now if I could only learn to French braid…


Dinner With Santa

Date: August 24, 2010  Author: Andrea Merriman

“He’d grown a beard since I last saw him. I asked, ‘what’s with that?’ He said it was the caveman look.” (Jane Marshall)

My only advance request for our date was that he not act like he was meeting me for the first time. (I didn’t want to look like a loser single woman so desperate for a date that she had to meet men she didn’t know at restaurants!)

He did a pretty good job honoring that request, but he was so polite he probably did say, a little too loudly, how nice it was to meet me. But thank goodness he recognized me when I walked through the door because his gray beard made him look completely different than his online profile picture! I don’t know if I’d have known it was him (except for the warning about the gray beard.)

He was tan, taller than me, had hair (dark but graying at the sides), was nice looking with white teeth, a nice smile, and very warm brown eyes. Not a bad start to a date with Santa! However, unlike that jolly old elf, Bachelor #5 did not have a big belly. He was fit and trim.

We talked all through dinner and when he asked my divorce story, I told him everything. The whole thing. (Remember, this was before I changed that approach.) He was very kind about it and seemed to take it all in stride. He was a VERY nice man, just totally out of my league age-wise. Translation: too old!

After we finished dinner, he was friendly and talkative as he walked me to my car. I made a mental note that I’d just completed my first date with a grandpa AND a man sporting a gray beard, and that although he was too old for me, he was nice.

I had no idea if I’d ever hear from him again, I had no idea what his thoughts were or what his plan was; life is unexpected that way. After all, as the great philosopher Mike Tyson once said, “Everyone has a plan ’til they get kicked in the mouth.” Divorced people have been through their fair share of kicks, regardless of their story, I’ve learned.

Another unexpected lesson of the unexpected life that has become mine.