Breaking the News: Part 2

Day 6: June 4, 2009

So, Aaron and I don’t exactly have a conventional family. Between us, there are 2 moms and 2 dads, all divorced, 2 stepmoms, a step-boyfriend and a step-girlfriend. Last night, it was time to break the news to my my dad and stepmom, who is currently pregnant with my third little sister, Sarah Lynn, due mid July. And also to my little sister, Samantha, who is 3 1/2. See, I told you we’re not a conventional family

My stepmom, Marisol, has been dying for Melissa, my 25 year old sister, and I to have kids, so I knew she would be excited, but my dad is a different story. I’m definitely a Daddy’s girl, and my dad and Aaron are still kind of feeling each other out. Not that they don’t like each other, it’s just taken awhile for my dad to see that even though Aaron is very different from him, they have a lot in common. It’s taken many hours of dirty jokes and talking about fishing and football, but they’re definitely making progress.

I had to start planting the idea of meeting for dinner early in the week, because it’s pretty hard to get my dad to make plans. Not that he isn’t a planning kind of person by nature. He used to be very punctual and organized, but then he married a Mexican and it all went downhill! We always joke that he’s on Mexican time. Trust me, this is an actual phenomenon – we once when to a wedding for a Mexican couple, and the bride and groom were so late that we all had to leave and go home for a few hours so they could hold the funeral that was scheduled for after the wedding, then come back and have the wedding about 5 hours late. So my dad has been on Mexican time since he met his little mamacita. Add a 3 1/2 year old daughter to the mix, and they are never on time for anything and they never plan things more than a day in advance.

So, as I said, I had to plant the idea of dinner in his head fairly early this week without making him suspicious. I even got Melissa to call him and mention that she’d like for all of us to get together. Today around lunchtime, I called to check in again about the dinner idea, and fortunately I was able to convince him and my stepmom with minimal pleading that they should come have dinner with all of us that evening.

For some reason, Aaron and I were both really nervous about telling my dad. Aaron was worried (half in jest, but half with real fear) that my dad was going to punch him. I think I was nervous because I really wanted him to be happy, and wasn’t sure if that would be the case.

So after we had chatted awhile, and we had finally placed our orders, I said to my dad, “You know what’s really funny? Your youngest child and your oldest grandchild are only going to be seven months apart.” It took him a second, and then he grinned and said, “Really?!” Marisol knew what I was saying (even though she doesn’t speak English, she understands it fairly well) and immediately started telling my dad something in a really excited, frantic pace. Apparently, she said she “just knew” that one of us was pregnant. They had both been thinking it for a month and they were actually really surprised when they saw me drinking at Melissa’s wedding three weeks before (it was before my fertile week, so I was free and clear. My last glass – or five – of champagne for awhile.)

Samantha was even excited, and she understands the baby thing since she’s currently experiencing it herself. I think she even sort of understood that she’s going to be a “tia,” and she kept telling me she was a big girl, not a baby. It was really cute, but in the end she was more interested in playing with the toy monkey I had brought her.

We joked awhile that Marisol is going to be the youngest grandmother ever (she’ll only be 26 when our baby is born, which is actually three years younger than me) and that people will definitely be confused when they see all of us in public. My dad put in a request for a boy immediately. Poor guy has enough women in his life.

When we all left to go home, Aaron went to shake my dad’s hand, the standard parting gesture, and my dad went in for the hug. No punch in the face! The night was a success.

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