Three and a half years ago my ex husband started dating the woman who would become the first girlfriend my children were introduced to. Within a year of introduction my kids were moved into a new home with this girlfriend and her two kids. The two adults in the relationship moved at supersonic speed. The one adult on the sideline was not happy.
I didn't know my ex's new girlfriend prior to the moment she went from stranger to ever present presence in my kids lives. I didn't have a problem with her. I had a problem with the depth and speed with which she and my ex involved my children in their relationship. It was too much too soon and handled poorly with half-truths from the start.
It was the first time I had to publicly deal with my ex and another woman and the first time I had to privately accept my kids spending time with another woman that wasn't me. I had to bear them snuggling with and walking into her kitchen when I dropped them off. I sat across the school gym as my ex's ex held my daughter on her lap for what felt like longer than necessary. I watched as she became the bench woman for my son's basketball team. I held back tears in the music room when she came to watch my son at his piano recital. I listened, soothed and help my kids cope as they navigated moving into a new home and sharing their lives and bedrooms with kids they went to school with, but just a year before had never met. It was not easy for any of us. Tears were shed by all of us. My incredibly adaptable kids adapted and tears became resentful grumbles some days and adulation on others. It took me a bit longer, but I did acclimate to the situation I could not control.
I offered a new Buddha as a housewarming gift and in time I encouraged my kids to make her cards for holidays, helped my daughter make crafts for her birthday and I bought flowers for my kids to give her on Mother's Day.
As much as I didn't like the beginning (and what I was hearing about the middle), there was no denying this woman was mothering my children. She made them breakfast and packed lunches. She had dance parties with my girl and helped my son with his Spanish homework. She drove them to Hebrew school and baked cookies on Sundays. She offered them love. It wasn't always accepted graciously (what is with tweens?), but they had a real bond. It was during the middle and getting close to the end that we called a silent truce. She was kinder and more appreciative; I was kinder and more appreciative. I could call her if I couldn't reach my kids, we easily exchanged items left at one house and needed at another. She wasn't my friend but she was an "at times" ally.
Speedily the relationship started and speedily it ended. It was another tough transition for my kids in a brief time span. They were assured all was amicable and plans would be made so the bonds they formed with their short lived "new family" would not be lost.
Around this time I got a call from my ex's ex. She apologized for everything and gave me an opportunity to speak my mind. I told her my initial resistance was not about her but about their process. And then I told her it was also about her. I finally spoke out loud what I had held in for three years. Words like "insensitive" and "selfish" were used but it was less an attack and more a clearing of the dense air that had lingered. Hanging up the phone over an hour later I was at peace. I didn't like anything about their beginning, their middle or what their end did to my kids. But at their end, my ex's ex offered what I knew was sincere regret and contrition. And when presented with a moment I had imagined would give me great pleasure, surprisingly, I grieved. Gloating has no place when the very situation is the bearer of great pain.
Break ups do as break ups do and as it turns out, plans were not on the horizon. Not between the two new ex's.
After a few weeks my ex's ex girlfriend reached out and asked if we could make a plan. I invited them over for pizza and my daughter squealed with delight. Three nights before our dinner date my daughter planned what she wanted to do with each guest. The night before our dinner date my daughter thanked me in case she forgot the next night. The night of our dinner date she counted down the minutes. It was awkward at first, for everyone but the sweet 8-year-old girl. She was bouncing and skipping between the boys she loves like brothers and the woman that loves her like a mother. I looked at two tween boys, one teen almost man and a woman I once loathed (and then didn't) and told them:
"I don't know what we are but you're not guests so help yourselves to anything. Turn on the TV if you want, play Xbox, just make yourselves at home. My home is your home."
A bottle of wine and several pizzas found us telling stories and laughing. Even the most skeptical of the bunch, my own tween, was very much enjoying his almost brothers/former roommates. Dishes done, my boyfriend and I decided to see what everyone else was doing. The boys were in one room playing basketball. My daughter and my ex's ex were in my daughters bed reading books, cuddling and laughing. Three years prior that imagined image was enough to overflow my eyes with tears. Presently, that reality elicited warmth. My daughter was happy and sharing love with someone she loved.
I don't know what we all are to each other, no label I've tried fits well. But as long as it suits my kids, my ex's ex and her kids are welcome anytime.