THE STRUGGLE TO BLEND

THE SRUGGLE TO BLEND
What is it about having a relationship at an older age that makes us feel like we’re 16 again? The excitement of discovering you’re in love? The nervous feeling you get when you introduce your boyfriend (is that what we call him at our age) to your friends? For me it was introducing Steve to my daughter. (It felt strangely reminiscent of the movie Meet the Parents.) Would my daughter accept him or think I was nuts? As a single mom each milestone was a challenge but one was harder then all the others…

THE OVERNIGHT.
Even though we had been dating for over 2 years, Steve had never spent the night when my daughter was home. A little over protective you’re probably thinking. Probably, but in our house it was just my daughter and myself for many years. Although she was very fond of Steve, I wasn’t ready to introduce this intimate side of my relationship into our lives.

Not knowing how to handle this next step I decided to poll my divorced friends and see what they did. Like the true “Virgin Moms” their kids think they are, the most popular method seemed to be avoiding the situation all together…. One after another, my friends described late nights when they’d sneak their mates into their bedrooms after the kids were safely asleep. Then at the crack of dawn they would sneak back out again (And if that doesn’t remind you of being a teenager again, nothing will)

I decided, on the other hand, to handle things in a more direct way. I discussed my intentions openly with daughter (after all she was 17). This is how the conversation went. Me: “I was thinking it’s time for Steve to spend the night. What do you think?” My daughter, going on the offense “ Oh, does that mean when I’m dating, I can have my boyfriend sleep over too”? Me, feeling a little defensive, “ Listen, I’m the adult here. I have been married and divorced. I‘ve had enough experience to make these kinds of mature decisions about my relationship and you certainly are not!” and so it went. (I handled that well didn’t I)? After a few slamming doors (hers, not mine) my daughters’ only request was not to “DO IT” while she was in the house. I knew that she shouldn’t be calling the shots, but I reluctantly agreed. After all it was unlikely she would know what went on behind closed doors and as they say in Vegas “What goes on in moms’ room, stays in moms’ room.”

THE WEEKEND FINALLY ARRIVED.
In my head I had a planned how the night would go, but as “bed-time” approached, I was the one feeling awkward. I wasn’t sure if I should say goodnight to my daughter and walk casually with Steve into my bedroom, or wait for her to go to bed first. And I hadn’t thought at all about what it would be like in the morning? Would we all hang around in our pajamas acting like this was an everyday occurrence? I decided the easiest way for me to deal with the churning in my stomach, was very similar to my girlfriend’s method. Simply wait until my daughter went to bed and then Steve and I would escape to my room for the night. Waiting for a cue from me, Steve pretended to watch TV with zombie-like concentration until I made the first move. And so, began a sort of Mexican standoff as we all sat around pretending that we stayed up this late every night. Waiting to see who would get tired first, I was the one who gave in, got up and made my move.

It’s been months now and my fiancé stays over almost every night. In the morning we barely acknowledge each other, as we get ready for work and school. Looking back, it seems silly to have put so much pressure on this one small event. We made it through another milestone, and the next level of blending our families was accomplished…and yes, in case you were wondering, what goes on in mom’s room stays in moms’ room!