Blending the Blended Family

It's been five years since Valerie and I moved in together. Five years since I met Lillian and Sebastian, who were then not yet three and two years old.

At that point, I was nothing more than a stranger to them, and I had no idea how to interact with these two little kids. There was rarely a comfortable moment for me, as I always felt I was doing something wrong with them. These weren't my kids and even though I had moved into their house, I really had no clue how to raise them, or even how to talk to them. To say this was a foreign experience would be the understatement of the century. I may as well been dropped into a strange household in China.

I'd like to tell you what a great time this was for me and for all of us, but that's just not the case. I couldn't be happier in my marriage and with my family today, but things were more than a little difficult at the beginning. For all of us.

In the beginning, bio-dad was still very much a fixture in our lives, so much so that he would come to our house to watch the kids each morning while Valerie went to work instead of her having to wake the kids and take them to him. That part stopped when I moved in, of course, but it may have been the last time he was really a dedicated father. I guess when I showed up, he no longer felt he had to be. I don't know.

Over the years, he's been less and less reliable. There is always an excuse as to why he doesn't show up, but those excuses are generally saved for the days or weeks after he disappears. On the odd occasion he actually does pick up the kids for his weekend, he coops them up in his apartment while he takes naps all day, only to return them to our house shortly after he wakes up. Most of the time, if he has them for five hours in his 48 hour weekend, he's done a lot.

More than once Valerie and I have openly wished he would just go away for good. Not having him at all would surely be better for the kids than constantly being lied to and having their hearts broken.

Last week, bio-dad announced via an unprovoked text message to Valerie that he was ready to sign the papers. He didn't want to keep being their dad. Lillian read the text before Valerie did.

Well, apparently signing over your rights as a dad isn't really a thing, at least not without an adoption. Of course, I was always going to adopt them if it ever came to it. I just didn't expect it ever would. And while I'm thrilled to be able to give these two my last name, my heart also breaks for them. I couldn't imagine ever having to try to figure out why my dad didn't want to be a part of my life. It's sickening to do that to another human being, let alone to your own flesh and blood.

He says it's the right thing to do. No, you selfish piece of crap, it's not. The right thing to do would be to put your children ahead of yourself. The right thing to do would be to spend as much time as possible, not as much time as convenient, being a real dad to your kids. And I'll give you a hint, you don't have to take 'em to the zoo or to get ice cream every day; all you have to do is show up and spend time with them. Hang out with them. Talk to them. Be a part of their lives. That's the right thing to do.

This isn't going to be easy for either of them. Of course, Valerie sat them down and explained what was going on. There were plenty of tears and both are dealing with a lot of emotion right now. Lillian stays strong on the outside, but I don't think you can just turn off a rejection like this. Sebastian has been a staunch supporter of bio-dad forever, always sticking up for him and making excuses for his behavior. Now he too has to face reality and he's always already been so emotional that adding what can only be the most difficult thing in his life will be even harder.

The process, from what I hear is expensive. It's not unlike adopting a child from outside the home, I guess. We have to go see a lawyer, Valerie and I both have to be fingerprinted and have background checks done, which is odd because she's their mom no matter what, but I guess that's the way the law is written. We also have to have an in-home study done by a social worker and there is a stipulation that the kids must live with me for six months from when we start the process. I guess they ignore the past five years. That means this process will take at least six months, but we've been told it could be up to a year. At the end of it, the kids will get brand new birth certificates that list me as their father. It will be as if bio-dad never existed, legally anyway.

The likely cost is somewhere in the neighborhood of $4000. And that doesn't even factor in the loss of child support. All in all, this is an expensive undertaking. We had earmarked our tax return to put siding on the house. Looks like that will wait another year. That's more than okay by me. The kids are a far better investment, anyway.

The other day we took the whole crew to Ft. Wayne to Build-a-Bear. Everyone had a blast of course. When it came time to fill out the birth certificates, however, we encountered a problem. They wanted the kids' first and last names. And here we were in the middle of a store swarming with happy, loud kids and suddenly we were faced with our oldest son and daughter having to choose whether to list their current last name, or the one they would be getting. They both handled it smoothly, but the moment struck me, probably more than it did them. That's not a decision any person should be forced to make, especially not at six or seven years old.

Last night they went out to play in the front yard. Shortly thereafter, they summoned Valerie to see what they had created. In sidewalk chalk, Lillian and Sebastian covered the front porch, the walkway and the sidewalk with "the Parents" over and over again.

We've come a long way in the last five years and since I got to know them, I have always considered those kids to be my own. I'm excited to be able to make it official. And I'm even more excited that both of them seem to want the same thing, even as hard as I'm sure this process is for them, and will continue to be.

A Different Kind of Writer's Block

I miss writing.

For those of you who don't know, as a hobby I spend my free time scouting and recruiting writers to join the FanSided sports network. Before a few months ago, my primary function at said network was as a writer. In order to devote more time to the non-writing stuff they need me to do, I gave up the writing.

Sure, I still have this humble forum, but I fear it has become something I never intended it to be. It's now a place where I can't write freely without worrying and over analyzing each word to see if it can be misconstrued in some way or another. People have been getting angry with me over what I write here, regardless of my intentions. This site was only supposed to be a way for my kids to look back on me one day after I'm gone, to get to know their dad and who he was; his inner-most workings.

Unfortunately, too often I've felt I need to apologize to the others in my life who also read these pages, though rarely has there been malicious intent. I guess I'm not allowed to be honest here, and if I can't do that, then there is no point. I don't want my kids getting a false impression of me.

So, I don't write at FanSided and I don't feel free to write here. But I do miss the writing.

I may have to start covering baseball again  or perhaps I can start a new site and just keep the link to only myself. Of course, then if I were to drop dead or get hit by a bus, my kids wouldn't find it, so I guess I should tell someone where it is. Maybe just my wife.

Of course, if she were to be hit by the same bus that would do no good either. But if I tell more people than were back to the problems I have here.

I guess I just wish that people who know me would realize that I am, and have always been, direct enough to address any issues I have with them. I don't often talk in code (though I am doing so right now) and I don't mince my words. I certainly wouldn't openly write a piece calling someone out without actually doing so. I mean, look at the pieces I've written about Bio-dad. Sure, I don't mention his given name, but I'm not exactly hiding who I'm talking about. And those pieces have been hyper-critical.

This is all very frustrating to me, because I don't feel I've done or said or written anything that should have been taken the wrong way; nothing I should need to apologize for. Yet I don't think I can keep writing here without causing more drama.

I don't know. I'll think on it and see what happens I guess.