Blended families. They are every bit of difficult and they have the potential of being nothing less than beautiful. It’s hard enough to navigate the dating world and when kiddos are added to the mix, it makes it even more tough. How long do you wait to introduce someone to your kids? Do you hug your bf/gf around them? Do you introduce them as your friend? Do they spend the night? I’m so wishing for a manual on how to date with kids. I swear I would read it front to back, back to front, and ten times over. Reality is, there isn’t one and there never will be. So we are left to kind of sort through it on our own and weed through the advice of our family and friends. Might I add, that advice is appreciated, but when it comes from your friends who have never had children of their own or they have been married to their high school sweetheart for the past however many years, it’s kind of hard to swallow. So in my case, I make those decisions accordingly and sometimes they are very wrong, and I learn from them. We’ve all been there.

I am no stranger to blended families. Not only was I brought up in one, but I married into one as well.  My parents divorced when I was pretty young, and my mom remarried, but my dad never did. I’m certainly not going to depict my life growing up as rainbows and butterflies. We had our ups and downs, just like any family, but I find as the older I get, I appreciate my stepfather a thousand times more than I did growing up. He went through personal struggles, but he and my mom remained united and strong for one another. My mom placed him on a pedestal, just as he placed her upon one. Through the years, he has stayed very strong for our family and more importantly, he never left us. There are two sentences that he said the most as we were growing up: 1.  “Go ask your mother.” 2. “Don’t be disrespectful to her, because not only is she your mother, but she is my wife.” We knew from day one that he was not there to replace our father, he was there to be our friend and teach us as much as we were willing to learn from him. Our little family of five turned into a great big extended family. One in which I love with my whole entire heart.

When I was 28, I met my ex husband. My daughter was 3 and his children were 11 and 14. I was so very fortunate that the kids instantly liked one another and although I was pretty young, they respected me from day one. Not as their mother, obviously, but as a parent in the house. I became their friend and mentor, and although that marriage failed, I still adore those kiddos with every ounce of my being. Now with that said, I made so many mistakes in that relationship. I certainly don’t put the blame on myself, because that would be so far from the truth. But this is my blog, and I’m not here to rake anyone over the coals, so I’m just attesting to my own shortcomings. I felt like I needed to be involved in every single decision when it came to his kiddos. We attempted counseling before we made the decision to divorce, and I will never forget the advice from our counselor. She said that when you embark upon a blended family, know that those kids have a mother and father, and they are like head coaches on a football team. You become the assistant coach. Before that play is called, everyone is well aware that the head coach consults with the assistant coach. But the head coach is the one to actually the make the call. I became jealous and bitter towards their mother, when I should have been more respectful and just sort of in the background.  As husband and wife, we were never a united front. Our foundation as a couple was flimsy at best and while I truly believed we loved one another, we never took that time for ourselves. When that foundation is not built with steady hands and forethought and care…it creaks and it splits and eventually you just fall right through it. I fought hard for my marriage and tried to make it work, but I also gave up when it was necessary.

So fast forward to right now. Mid 30’s. Divorced. Dating. It’s all bananas and it’s messy and complicated and difficult. I have this constant guilt looming over my head. I work at least 40 hours a week at my full time job, and then I come home to start on my real job which is parenting. I usually don’t get home until about 6 and I have to do dinner, homework, argue, running around, cleaning, argue, laundry, bath time, argue, bed time, and wake up the next morning and repeat. And that’s ok. I signed up for this gig, so yeah. As much as I love being a mother to my spirited little daughter, I also want to find someone to spend the rest of my life with. I sort of want to grow old with someone. I want that person who sticks. That guy who is strong and willing to take on my baggage. Because I’m also willing to take on his baggage. So how do you find this person when you only have every other weekend to date. Let’s face it my little lovelies…we aren’t getting any younger. Do we find them as we are grocery shopping and just randomly go to pick up the same jar of spaghetti sauce on the shelf and touch hands and look into one each others eyes and fall in love at first sight? Do we meet them at the library? Just kidding. Who goes to the library. Do we meet them at church? Have we known one another for years and have mutual friends and for some reason, fate has finally brought us together? Does this really happen? I’m certain it does, but it’s not exactly the norm. Once you find the one you think you are destined to be with, you make the decision to introduce them to your children and honestly you take a leap of faith. When you have every other weekend without your children, and they have opposite weekends without their children, scheduling alone time is tricky and sometimes it works out and oftentimes it doesn’t. So. It’s all very difficult and challenging but I’m a hopeless romantic and think that our love lives are written in the stars and it just happens when it happens.

I still believe with my whole heart that blended families are so amazing. I think the dynamic of blending two families together can be magical and messy and complicated and sometimes it just works. I think if we just accept the dynamic for what it is then it’s alright. It’s all fundamentally the same. You can be raised by a single mother, a single father, two mothers, two fathers, adopted,  or whatever structure you are familiar with. Families are all tangled and there is hurt and there is joy and there are ups and downs and everything in between. But they are yours. And that makes it beautiful in it of itself.