Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Children and lovers ...

They don't mix. No matter what anyone says about blended families and diversity. It doesn't matter if your kids are 3 or 33. They won't ever completely approve.

At least that's how it feels to me.

Can we really help who we fall in love with? Life would be easier if we could be sure to fall for the stable, dependable, sober, and faithful guy (or girl), rather than the one who didn't grow up until sometime after hitting 40. But then, is life supposed to be easy? Okay, that's another whole essay. But, would loving someone be really worth it, would it mean as much and fill you up as much if it were easy? I don't know. I've never taken the easy route.

I'm caught between a rock and a hard place ... well, that's not completely true. There's tension, and I think there always will be tension. It's the acceptance that's hard. I know my kids won't ever completely trust him to not hurt me again. And I can understand their position ... after all, they watched me fall apart over him. They were witness to the way I was treated. They don't completely understand why I'm willing to give him another chance. However, they do accept it.

Two of the three will socialize and talk and treat him like part of the family. (He's been around in one way or another for almost 15 years.) One refuses. He wants to talk with her ... clear the air, so to speak. She won't. And I won't try to force it. You can't force that. You can't. He needs to accept that.

And I'm in the middle, the buffer between these two people I love so much.

But ... in the end, one of them is my child.

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