I'm Lindsay Ferrier, a Nashville writer with a passion for family travel, exploring Tennessee, and raising kids without losing my mind in the process. This is where I share my discoveries, along with occasional deep thoughts, pop culture tangents and a sprinkling of snark. Want to get in touch? Use the CONTACT form at the top of the page.
November 16, 2007
>
Before Punky was born, I had drawn up elaborate blueprints in my mind on how our blended family would, well, blend. The older girls could call me Mimi, which is what I called my mom when I was a little girl. Punky would end up calling me Mimi too. It would be perfect, I reasoned. The girls wouldn’t have to call me ‘Mom,’ but Punky wouldn’t hear them calling me by my first name, either, and wonder why she couldn’t do that. Gee, was I ever smart.
Of course, that plan bombed. The girls gave it a valiant effort, but after three years of calling me ‘Lindsay,’ Mimi just didn’t stick. Today, they call me by my name and Punky calls me ‘Mommy,’ and you know what? It’s no big deal.
I get lots of e-mails from stepmoms asking questions about this kind of thing; we all spend endless hours worrying about the whole half-sibling thing and how on earth we’ll handle that with our poor little tiny children, who will surely be devastated when they learn that Sissy is, well, only half a sissy. But in every case that I’ve encountered so far, my worries about blending my family were far worse than what actually happened. And in every case, absolutely nothing went according to my carefully-laid plans.
The moral here? Just go with it. Improvise. That’s what you’ll end up doing anyway. To Punky, it’s only natural that the girls call me ‘Lindsay,’ because in her center-of-the-universe focused mind, I’m her mommy, and I can tell that the name she gets to call me makes her feel special. I am sure that questions will come up soon about where the girls go when they visit their mom and why they have a different mother, and I’m sure that certain brats at school will make comments about Punky’s “half” siblings. But I don’t think it’s going to be that big of a deal. We’ll discuss it. And that will be that.
The important thing is that everyone in my house is getting plenty of attention and love. Focus on that, and everything else, regardless of title, moniker, “half” or “whole,” should fall into place, in all its imperfect glory.
This post originally appeared on Parents.com.
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.