Blending Vomit

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This is a compilation of my thoughts on the subject and his. Yes, my husband can write. His thoughts follow my post.

Blended. When I think of that word, my mind conjures up images of a toddler finger painting and blending colors together. I think of the girl at Smoothie King tossing the ingredients in the blender and blending the perfect smoothie. (Why won’t my blender make them taste the same way)? I think of all sorts of beautiful combinations of things that have been blended together. People even call some families “blended.” The Brady Bunch, they were a blended family. However, we all know the moment that the cameras stopped filming, those Brady kids must have turned into Satan’s spawn and started poking each others’ eyes out and shouting obscenities at their parents. They were a bit too well blended for my reality. Have you see Adam Sandler’s movie Blended? I love that movie. Two completely unlikely families blend into a beautiful family. Once again, they blended just like when you mix Kool-Aid powder and water. You could never separate the two again. Perfection.

Those were the expectations that I headed into my second marriage with. And, let’s face it, I thought the blending of my crew of convicts and Ray would be flawless. He didn’t even have kids that he was bringing to the blender!

Folks, the time has come for me to admit that I was wrong. The reality of blending families is nothing like blending finger paints or fruit in a smoothie. I’m pretty sure that using one of the Ninja blenders wouldn’t even make the outcome any better! Blending a family is like blending two piles of chunky puke. Once the puke is out, there’s evidence of the past (be it a pizza dinner or red juice) and there’s usually no denying which parties delivered the piles-o-puke. It’s messy, and it sure ain’t easy to clean up. Although I wanted to pretend like my past hurts had healed, they hadn’t. Those hurts have shown up in multiple pukey piles at various times over the last year. Ray’s past has shown up in a few piles along the way, too. And, even if you can get to that weird sawdust-like puke picker upper stuff and sprinkle it all over the piles, the evidence of the puke is still there – be it the stank or the on-lookers left staring at you.

Ok. I’m tired of talking about puke. I’m not really sure what inspired that parallel. Gross.

So, let’s just move on to the nuts and bolts. After doing the single mom “thing” for several years, I think I sort of just assumed that marriage to Ray would be remarkably easy. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually, I knew that we would be cared for. The kids loved him. My parents adored him. What else could a girl want? (Insert large lightning bolt and ominous sounds of thunder in the background).

Let me take a step back for a moment and tell you my inspiration for carving out time to write this… Garbage Pail Kids sort of rampage today. Over the last few weeks, I’ve had several single friends who’ve gotten engaged. I’ve heard them make comments alluding to the idea that second marriages are just like first ones – you’re just getting a “do over.” One friend even said that she had expectations of perfection because she knew that her hubby-to-be would never do the things her ex did. Um, yeah. Folks, we are humans. We all do stupid… even asinine things! We are selfish by nature and would prefer to side-step the reality of hardships. Believe me. Second marriages are harder – especially when there are rug rats involved!

Let’s start by talking about those rug rats. Many times, they are like time leeches. They have needs and wants (and demands) that need to be met. It’s not like that first marriage where you came home after a long day at work and you could collapse on the sofa with a bowl of cereal. I guess I could still try that, but I’d have Annie on one side of me asking to have a bite of my cereal, and Dasha would be asking to change the channel. Grant would be in the kitchen slamming cabinet doors as he looked for something to eat more substantial than cereal for dinner. And, in our situation, Ray would be left standing in the kitchen with that wide-eyed look of, “This sure doesn’t fit that Norman Rockwell photo that I had burned into my memory!” It’s just different. Alone time is nearly non-existent. So, as a couple, serious discussions or issues that need to be dealt with are frequently done via email or text. We’ve even started using an app called Wunderlist to organize discussion topics. Doesn’t sound like a great system, does it? Starting a new marriage with kids in tow is nothing for the faint-hearted. We won’t even begin to address meshing discipline styles and expectations for each child. I have the knowledge of what each child has been exposed to and what they “know” to be right. Ray doesn’t. He’s at a disadvantage. Does that mean that he should just stand in the background and let me do all of the parenting? No. That’s not what we want. However, finding a good started point isn’t easy, either!

Who wouldn't be proud of this?

You can even see their halos! Right?

Sleeping arrangements are another laughable thing. First time around, you want beautiful linens and candles to decorate your bedroom in hopes of encouraging “the mood.” Second time around, there aren’t any linens on the bed because someone puked on them and they are in the washer. And, if you do make it into bed, you’re likely to be shish-kabobbed with a Barbie shoe or a rogue toenail from someone’s shoddy clip job while sitting on your bed! And the candles, forget it. If you light those puppies with three kiddos running around, you’re surely going to be making a homeowner’s claim for a charred bedroom. (Ray did invest in LCD candles. However, I believe they’re in Dasha’s room now). And, combining the sleeping styles of two folks who’ve had their own beds for quite a while becomes even more laughable. Our headboard has slats along the top. Ray has counted them off and knows that the exact middle of the bed can be calculated at the “nine line.” This would be where the ninth slat is located on the headboard. More than once, he has muttered, “Get on your side of the nine line!” Let’s not even get into the arrangements that happen when a storm rolls through and our bed becomes the hang out. Is this something that folks think about heading into a second marriage? Well, they need to. This is reality unless you want to be like June and Ward and invest in two twin beds. Will you new hubby be open to having the little convicts crash your bed each night?

And finances? Well, I’m not even sure that I can adequately address that. We are still working on that. He was used to controlling his money. I’d grown accustomed to controlling mine (or my lack of). Using an envelope system seems sensible, but actually making it work has been another challenge. But, my point is that I don’t think families who are blending really think through the nitty-gritty of finances. I believe many of them look at the bottom line of what gets deposited in the bank each month, and they simply agree that the income will exceed the outflow. At that point, they assume that it’ll all be ok. Have you ever really even thought about your spending habits? I’m not talking about what the numbers show. I’m talking about the WHYs behind how you spend the money. Ugh. That’s a big ugly boogie monster waiting to grab your ankles and pull you under the bed! It’s gets even uglier when your spouse’s habits are drastically different. Just think about it.

Believe me, there are lots of other things that I was unprepared for. But above all, I wasn’t prepared for how my past was driving my future. I just didn’t realize how many bruises I still had from my first marriage. In order to protect those bruises, I had created quite a system of coping mechanisms to insure that I never felt that sort of pain again. The biggest coping mechanism I nurtured was making sure that I was always in control. Yes. I know you’re surprised. Me? A control freak. Yeah, whatever. I just didn’t realize how much of a freak I’d become. Ray knew from the start that I was… oh, what was the nice word he used?... independent. And, somehow, he managed to put up with my need to continually be in control. I needed control for the safety of my kids. I needed control to keep my finances in check. I needed control to make sure that things were done the right way (that ‘s MY way in case you needed the 4-1-1). Once again, this is an area that I was absolutely oblivious of until trying to “blend.” Believe me. My pile-o-puke was full of massive chunks of control. I still deal with this on a daily basis. Do you know that I can’t even ride in the car with someone without getting carsick now? If I’m driving, I’m fine. If I’m riding, I get sick. It doesn’t have anything to do with motion sickness. It’s control sickness. I could go on forever with how bad this has gotten. While Ray is patient with my insanity, I know that he grows weary of it at times.

My past still tempers how I parent, how I cope, and how I live. I think this is called life. And, I’ve come to the point of believing that if I can take my past and use it for my good, I might be able to call it wisdom. But, that doesn’t always happen. Sometimes I’m like Elsa. I use my control to build ice castles around myself. Do you want to build a snowman? Oh wait. That was sort of random.

My point is that if you are a single mama and you believe that the answer to all of your problems is to find a man and blend, then you need a reality check. Blending is a messy job. Until you’re ok cleaning up your own pile-o-puke, don’t expect someone else to want to step in and do it. I will admit that we when we got married just over a year ago, I was partially ok cleaning my own puke. I wasn’t like the iron-stomached custodian who swoops into an elementary classroom and sprinkles puke dust everywhere and then sweeps it up without hesitation. I was still gagging and choking as I cleaned. Wait. How did we get back to puke? What is wrong with me?

Ray and I have talked repeatedly through the last year. The books that we read on blending families just didn’t do it. He read books about how to be a dad since he had never operated in that role. I read books about supporting your husband through prayer and helping blend the “beautiful colors” of a new family. I just kept hearing Dr. Phil’s resounding words, “How’s that working for you?” Maybe we did glean a few truths from those books, but the majority of what we learned came from bumping our heads on the door (and floor and ceiling and against each other). I can’t even begin to address this whole blending activity if both parents have kiddos. I would need a full-time live in counselor (and pharmacist) to implement that deal! That has to be nearly impossible!

Single ladies, take my advice. If you are looking for someone to complete you (or your family) Jerry Maguire style, stop. You are wholly perfect and complete through His grace. Blending is a messy thing. While the Bradys and Adam Sandler were able to do it on the big screen, reality looks and feels very different. Be honest with yourself and remember Andy Stanley’s words. “Are you who the person you are looking for is looking for?”

I didn’t really mean for that to be a fountain of puke covered wisdom. However, my heart is breaking for a few women who are near and dear to me. They are looking for someone else to complete them. Until they discover that they are complete in Him, another marriage will never meet their needs or expectations and will most likely cause more devastation.

In case you were wondering, Ray and I are thriving. We have accepted that “normal” in this house is absolutely abnormal. We continue to learn from each other as if we are from completely different planets (most likely Mars and Venus). He works daily to coax me out of my comfort zones and gently push (toss) me into situations where my control is minimized. My prayer daily is that God allow me to learn to trust fully again through Ray’s integrity and patience. It’s quite a story that’s being written around here. Some chapters are full of bloopers and blunders. Other chapters are full of heartbreak and frustration. But, the majority of the plot revolves around this odd little family learning to love and work together through God’s unending grace. I never know what the next chapter will bring. But I do know that we are traveling through this journey together and that Ray was worth the wait.

Ray’s thoughts:  

 Life has definitely been a roller-coaster for the past 14 months.  Puking from the ride is not unexpected.  When Susan sits with a bowl of cereal, I am not standing in the kitchen.  I am working on dinner for the kids. (We are on this ride together).  

The past year did not go as I expected, either.  I prayed for God to bring the woman into my life that I would work with, in family and in ministry, for the rest of my life.  God brought Susan into my life, with three bonuses: Annie, Grant, and Dasha.  I’ve never been a father before.  Being an uncle was easy.  I could stop over and visit.  I could even babysit.  Then I could return to the peace and quiet of home.  Everything had a place (more or less), and everything was in its place (more or less). 

Going from the quietness of bachelor life to having a wife and three kids not only turned my life upside down, but inside out and backwards, too.  Things that I’d grown accustomed to in 39 years being single, such as quiet time, a semblance of order, control over my schedule… were gone.  Yes, there have been times that I look back and think that those were the ‘good old days’.  Then I look around at my wife, son, and two daughters and realize that the ‘good days’ are happening now, with my family.

We are still working a few things out.  Sharing the bed (with a wife who crowds and steals the covers, and refuses to keep her pillows on her side of the nine line).  Finances are definitely different with five people, two cats, and a dog.  We’re working through it, though, together. 

Any men out there who are thinking about marriage, do it!  Pray, and when you are sure that it is God’s will, don’t look back.  Yes, it’s different!  Yes, there are changes that you’ll have to make!  Yes, your life will never be the same!  Yes, it is wonderful! 

God blessed me not only with a wife, but with three kids, too.  More than I had asked for.  I will continue to do my best to be the husband and father that God called me to be.

Amen