"In Harmony"
Making a Blended Family Work
I WASN 'T SURE I WOULD EVER get married again after my divorce in 1985. I had two daughters to raise, and I figured that would take up most of my life and love. Then I met John, a divorced father of three. Before long I was saying yes to his marriage proposal and moving to a lovely suburb of Minneapolis to live with my new husband.
But what about my girls, Karli, 10, and Emily, 7? They had so much to adjust to. The divorce had been hard enough. This could be even tougher. John's three kids—Summer, 9, Krissy, 7, and John Ryan, 6—stayed over twice a week. I knew I should trust God. He'd brought me John. It had to be for a reason. But I couldn't stop worrying about the children. It was such a huge change for all five of them.
Things were made worse by the fact that the basement refinishing project John's brother was doing for us would take months. Until then, twice a week there were even people crammed into a two-bedroom house. The kids all slept in the same bed-room. Two in the double bed and, when they visited, three on the floor in sleeping bags. In my prayers I wondered, Can we ever become a family like this, Lord?
Karli and Emily didn't mind sharing a room. They'd done that in our old place. But there they'd had matching twin beds, toy bins in the walk-in closet, shelves for their dolls and stuffed animals. Their room was perfect. Now everything that made their room special sat in the garage, waiting till the basement was finished to be unpacked.
One day I opened the door to the kids' bedroom. Three empty sleeping bags, buried under toys, books, games and clothes! I almost screamed for the five of them to come put everything away. No, quicker to do it myself.
"You should've seen that room," I said to John later. "What a mess!"
"I bet they had fun making it," he chuckled. "Anyway, kids don't care about that kind of stuff."
"But I do," I told him. "Kids need order. I'm afraid one of them will break another's favorite toy or lose something. Then the fighting will start. It'll be chaos."
"What are you so worried for?" John said, wrapping me in his arms. "They've gotten along fine since day one."
I thought back to the first time all seven of us were together in the house. The kids put on a play, complete with costumes and handmade programs for John and me. Afterward, John suggested we toast marshmallows in the fireplace. My girls went nuts. "We've never lived some-where with a fireplace!"
But that had been three months ago. I knew it was only a matter of time till our living situation would get to them
Sure enough, one afternoon Karli came home from school and asked, "Mom, can my friend Jackie come over Friday?"
I hesitated. "Everyone's going to be here, Karli"
"That's okay, Mom. Summer and Krissy said they want to meet her."
"I'm sorry. There just isn't room. Once the basement is finished ...
"You keep saying that," Karli muttered and stalked out.
Lord, can't you make John's brother hurry up the basement? I prayed. I just want everyone to feel settled, like they're part of a family instead of some crazy free for all.
Friday night after dinner the kids commandeered the living room to play video games. There were only two controls, so they'd have to take turns. John and I relaxed in the kitchen over coffee. Well, he relaxed. I kept one ear tuned to the other room. I could hear the kids squabbling. I was poised to jump in if it got any worse.
"What's the matter?" John asked.
"I can't take this anymore!" I blurted. "Karli wanted to have a friend over, but I had to say no. Your brother's got to finish that basement."
"I think sharing a bedroom is bringing the kids closer," John insisted. He took my hand. "Listen. They've worked it out."
I didn't say anything. John was right, though. The kids were playing quietly. "How 'bout next weekend we go to a hotel?" he continued. "You'll get a break from this mess and my brother can probably get more done without us around."
Great idea. The following Saturday John and I lounged by the hotel pool watching the kids play Marco Polo. "Marco!" John Ryan called. "Polo!" four voices answered. Emily and Krissy erupted into giggles. "Shhh," our older girls said, splashing them. I tensed. More laughter. They really are happy together, all five of them—aren't they? I thought. Maybe John was right. Maybe we could be a family.
"Just think," I told the kids at lunch,
"soon you'll have plenty of room to play at home. And your own bedrooms too."
"Once the basement is done.... " Karli teased.
"Can we toast marshmallows then?" asked John Ryan. "Like we did that first night we were all together?"
"Sounds like the perfect way to celebrate," I said. Now we just had to wait.
And wait. And wait. Nine months after we moved in, John's brother finished the basement. That Friday evening our five-kid moving crew went to work, carrying boxes, toys and clothes downstairs to the new bedrooms and family room. Then it was time for toasted marshmallows and hot cocoa. "Okay, I hate to break up the party," I said finally. "Say your good-nights, then everyone to their bedrooms."
When I walked down the hall to say good-night, the bedroom light was already off. "Hope you feel at home," I said into the darkness. No answer. I squinted. The room was empty.
I headed down to the basement. Giggles. Where were they coming from? I followed the sound. There they were—all five kids in the same room, two in the bed and three in sleeping bags. Chaos.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Can't we all sleep in here?" they begged. "We want to be together. We like it this way!"
Just what John had been trying to tell me all along. Who needs extra room in the house when you're given plenty in your heart? Enough for a new marriage and for a five-kid free-for-all to become a family. A big happy family brought together for a reason.
