When I first separated from my ex, I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to get married again.

When I first started dating, I loved loved loved the separation of the me that was a Mom and the me that dated. Did I want my kids meeting people I was casually dating? Absolutely not. Did I want to keep one eye on my kids and one eye on the guy? That was just a bit too much multitasking for me, especially when I already felt stupid and insecure, with one foot back in high school again.
 
When I entered into my first serious relationship, I maintained that separation, for the most part. Kid-free weekends were spent at his place. He’d come over for kid-free Wednesday dinners. We didn’t do ‘family’ holidays together; didn’t celebrate important dates or birthdays with the whole gang; didn’t attend the school recital as a couple. Sure, he met the kids (and attended the occasional school event or dinner) - and they knew that he had an important place in my heart. They all liked each other. But we didn’t spend much time together - the four of us, that is.

Why? We were both skittish, I guess. He’d just finished raising his kids & wasn’t eager to make a commitment to another family; while I hoped we’d be together ’someday’, I wasn’t eager for that to happen any time soon. And I have a kneejerk sensitivity about forcing my kids into Brady Bunch situations much too prematurely (my own divorced mother routinely and indiscriminately crammed her dates and their kids down our throats in a ‘let’s all be One Happy Family’ way.)

So we glossed our way through, skimming across the surface - until a heavy weight crashed through the ice, leaving us to flounder and break apart in the chilly aftermath. The next relationship was different. While I still wasn’t sure I wanted to completely entwine my life with someone else, he was a much more visible and enthusiastic presence in my kids’ lives, and I know he thoroughly enjoyed them as people (instead of just ‘my kids’ or a package deal.)

When I told my daughter we’d decided to just ‘be friends’, she got really angry at me, and insisted on writing him an e-mail that said, in part, “I didn’t want you to leave but Betsy is the grownup and the boss and I’m only the kid so I didn’t have any choice here.” And I resolved to go back to my ’separate and nowhere near equal’ relationship mantra.
 
It floored me when he told me during one of our ‘ending the relationship post-mortems’ that he’d assumed we’d be together for life; had thought about proposing. I went to a wedding this past weekend. The bride and I ended our marriages about the same time. We both have two kids - in the same grades, no less. She was stunned and amazed when I started dating again. Where did I find the time? Where could you find grownup men to date? So we compared notes in email; I encouraged her to give it a whirl. Eventually, she started dating - but it seemed as if I was always a step or two ahead. First post-divorce relationship. First post-divorce relationship crash and burn. Back up in the saddle again. Etc. Until I met her fiance, that is. Watched in awe as she planned her wedding, sold her house, bought a new one, and fearlessly moved ahead to blend a new family - his kids, her kids; his parents, her parents. I went to her wedding last Sunday - with my nine year old daughter as my ‘date.’ Raised my glass to her happiness, joined with a whole host of relatives and friends and well-wishers to witness their commitment to each other, and to their kids. And you know? I didn’t once think ‘that should be me’. Instead, I finally started to think that maybe, one day, it might be me. Could be me.