Momsmas

Gnat graduated from college in 2012, the summer after the second year her dad and I split up. All her parents were there: Bee and EJ, her dad, and I. (Note comma placement, quite deliberate.) I wouldn't say it was terribly awkward that we were all there in the same place. Of course we were all there for Gnat's college graduation! But we hadn't yet reached full blended-family equilibrium.

Sidebar: If you’re not sure who these characters are, read Bee Is Your…What? and then come back. I ought to make one of those daunting family diagrams that you might find on the inside cover of a multi-generation epic novel. Those diagrams often scare me off the novel completely. You're a monster of complexity! I'd cry loudly in my head, as I'd gently shove the book back on its shelf.

But this is real life, folks. Read on! You can handle it. I believe in you. End of sidebar.

That little edge, a soft undercurrent of not-quite-comfortable pooled around our ankles while our heads partook of sparkling beverages, chatted amicably and chowed down on the potluck yummies that Gnat and her housemates had prepared.

By the way, Gnat ended up marrying one of those housemates, several years later. My wonderful, crazy, funny son-in-law, Mack.

Midway through the party, Bee and I found ourselves conversing in quiet corner, and remembered how much we like each other. One of us said, what if? The other said, yes! I like it! Together we sketched the outline of Moms’ holidays.

A pivotal invention for our family was born and the ankle-high mist of mild discomfort pretty much drifted out to sea. We were in Santa Cruz, so the Pacific Ocean was nearby. It's so big it doesn't mind absorbing woes. That's why it shifts to on-shore breeze after the sun goes down, and also why you feel better in the morning.

Gnat, Ed and Max agreed on the spot. EJ was enthusiastic. Not a dissenter in the crowd, not even their father.

By the way, Beau would have agreed, too, but he was still part of our future. In our family we have a term for that: Beau was not-born-yet.

Gnat and Ed were already used to having to split their holidays between their mom’s house and their dad’s house. They’d done that since they were little, according to a carefully specified algorithm. Now with their dad and (former) stepmom divorced, were they going to have to split their brief holiday time three ways? And what about Max, still tender from the fresh divorce—was he going to split his time two ways, sometimes as a sort-of-only child of a single parent and other times reunited with his brother and sister? Sheesh.

And that’s how Moms’ Holidays were conceived. We parents were all interested in keeping the three siblings together and not making their lives even more complicated. With the Moms’ Holiday System the kids were either with their dad and his branch of the family (uncles, aunts, grandmother, cousins) or with their moms—Bee and me—and our branches of the family. Momsgiving and Momsmas have names. The rest are just the way we do holidays these days.

When Beau married Bee's ex-husband's next ex-wife (me), Beau contributed his sons, Dallas and Athens, to our raucous bunch. It’s a lot of family, to be sure. But just two parental celebrations: Dad’s and Moms’. (Note apostrophe placement.)

With Beau's birth into our family, Moms' Holidays became a bit of a misnomer, since Dallas and Athens are technically celebrating a Dad's holiday. Oh well. It's a historical term, and the next generation can re-evaluate it as needed, tearing down the old statues and putting up new ones if they want to.

These days the kids have spouses and in-laws, or partners and out-laws of their own. Some even have guest rooms, so that Max can stay with them instead of parents when he’s home from grad school. By now, all algorithms have gone out the window. We're all adults now and we elders have relinquished control. Mostly.

Christmas Day next week, Bee and I and our two husbands will host Momsmas. Beau’s sons will be with us after spending Christmas Eve with their mom and stepdad, more people to add to the character map on the inside cover of the book. My sister Renie and her new husband are joining us, along with Beau’s brother and his girlfriend—by which I mean Beau’s brother’s girlfriend. If Beau has a girlfriend, she’s not invited.

We are a glorious chaotic loving tangle of a family. I love us.

Ed once gave me a Mother’s Day card that reads, I heart our weird family. I keep it on my desk. The fact that it’s a commercially available greeting card means that there are other weird families out there. It’s not just us.

In a nod to Bee’s side of the family, who are crazy about games, here’s one of those logic puzzles you got for homework in eighth grade:

Who belongs to whom?

• Becky is mother of one, stepmother of two, and former stepmother of two

• Beau is father of two and stepfather of one

• Bee is mother of two

• EJ is stepfather of two

• F is father of three

• Gnat, Ed and Max each have a mother, a father and a stepfather

• Dallas and Athens claim the same mother, father, stepmother and stepfather

• Gnat and Ed each have one half-sibling and one sibling

• Max has two half-siblings and two step-siblings

• Dallas and Athens each have one sibling and one step-sibling.

It’s just missing a grizzly bear, a canoe and a river.

Ach, don’t bother trying to puzzle it out. It doesn’t really matter. The truth is, we all belong together.

[Photo creds: Me. Card creds: Ed.]