They had the four kids' schedules coordinated every other weekend, and the little ones seemed okay with the transition. G & L shared a room, and Jean’s two children shared a room, which I think helped. The kids had their sibling and one another, thank goodness.

Brendan and Jean thought they had masterminded this schedule coordination, but it was actually something John and I had planned. (John was Jean’s ex husband. Remember him?) Brendan and Jean had no idea that we were friends. And while at first John and I laughed at how we could be totally sadistic bastards by creating a schedule that just wouldn’t coordinate (snarkiness from wine), we knew that it would be smarter for the kids to all be together. We also knew there was safety in numbers, but even more importantly, that if we didn’t give Brendan and Jean every other weekend to themselves, something would crack. This relationship needed all the help it could get.

Unfortunately, early on the cracks started to show. Brendan and Jean were trying incredibly hard to force the “we’re-a-happy-family” scenario. It was fascinating to watch. They would set up play dates with random kids who lived in their neighborhood, buy group coordinated outfits, and would actually tell the kids that they were going to all be a happy family. Jean at one point even told my kids to call her Mom. I’m sure you realize how well that sat with me. And yes, I squelched that one. But truth be told, my kids didn’t even understand why she would ask that of them.

They were hard-selling their promise. Many times they would deliver off-handed comments about how they could offer the kids a real family in their town, as if what I offered my kids or what John offered his kids wasn’t sufficient. They would casually mention their town’s prorgams for kids, failing to recognize that not only did the kids not physcially live in their town, but also that neither were custodial parents. I think they had good intentions, at least I hope so, but they were completely disillusioned.

Most importantly, the kids weren’t buying it. Jean’s kids honestly didn’t like Brendan. He showed his best side when Jean was in the room, but wasn’t really that interested in her kids when she wasn’t there. And they knew it. The kids thought the weekends were okay, but no one was complaining when they ended.

On the other side of things, Brendan still had not found a job. I can only imagine the financial stress Jean was under, having bought a house she really could not afford. And to boot, Brendan was a bear. He was generous in his verbal abuse with me (because who better than your ex-wife?) and would blow up at the smallest of things. I made it clear to him that none of this unwarranted venom should fall on the kids’ ears and that I didn’t need to subscribe to it anymore. I could disregard the majority of it (except the time he threatened to come to my house and “show me what he meant”…no worries—he’s a mouth flapper and I am scrappy ;-), but of one thing I was sure. Jean had her hands FULL.

And a mere six months after they signed the purchase and sale on their new beautiful home, the "For Sale" sign hit the lawn.