It was on a very cold and rainy Monday evening that I moved in with my boyfriend. Everything I owned of value, crammed into my car. I couldn’t quite believe that I had actually done it. I left the only home I had known since I was 16 years old. This was a huge step for me. Monday night we were still in a bit of shock, but happy to be together. Tuesday night we were still very much in the “I still can’t believe I am here” phase, but also very much in our little love bubble. Wednesday night he thought (being the considerate person that he is) he had better let his ex know that his girlfriend was now living with him. Not just out of courtesy, but also because they share the parenting of their three children. Also it would be an appropriate time for her to voice any concerns she may have about the person who was going to be spending time with her children. This went well and she had no objections. Thursday evening (while still in the love bubble phase) he remembered that it was HIS weekend with the kids and the fret of how they were going to react set in. Friday evening, the kids arrived!
He set about calling them aside to explain to them that I was now living with him. I remember their reaction and the way he so lovingly set about his grand explanation.
“Now guys, you remember my friend Karen” he began, “yes dad” they said in unison.“Well Karen and I like each other so much that she is now going to be living here with me”. “uhuh” they said, looking slightly confused, but not upset. (So far so good).
“Well you see, because when we don’t see each other then we miss each other and if she is living here then we can see each other all the time and we don’t have to miss each other anymore”. Then he looked at their faces to try and gauge their response. “Is that okay with you guys?” he asked.The two older children said it was fine with them and went off to do their own thing. Jonah (who was only recently 4 years old at the time) looked at me and said “why you living here?” and “where is your house?”
It was about four months later that he finally stopped asking me, “can we go to your house?” and “where is your house?”. It was quite sweet when James (the eldest who was 11 then) would answer him and say “this is her house Jonah, she lives here now”.
I think they took it very well in the end, and the way my boyfriend was so concerned about what his children would think about the whole situation just made me love him even more. He is such a caring and considerate daddy and I respect him as a parent. I think Hannah (the only girl ) really enjoys having another girl around when she comes to Dad’s house, she often likes to go through my jewelry and make-up. All in all a good fit: when the kids are here we all get along and when they are not we have ‘our’ time together.
It’s been a year and a bit since I made that giant leap and I have never been happier.