craftygal stump - A Twisted Family Tree

A Case Study in Modern Family Research

I ran into an unusual situation the other day, which made me realize–again–what a unique family I have. I discovered upon trying to use the Family Tree Maker Deluxe that I’ll be hard-pressed to find genealogical software complex enough to display my whole family at one time. I attempted to configure it in such a way as to diagram all my various siblings and parents at a glance, but my attempt proved unsuccessful; I shall have to continue resorting to hand-drawn sketches. You see, there are days when I tell myself that more complicated families exist; however, I am constantly told, after explaining our evolution, "Well, you’ve got me beat!" Honestly, telling people who unwittingly ask if I have siblings has become like a joke to me–the kind where the nuances entertain the teller as much as they do the listener.

It starts simply enough: "I am number ten of twelve," I say in response to the innocent question. Their eyes widen and I smile a broad smile, knowing that already, they’re trapped. There are only two choices–they can: A.) back out now while it’s safe, or B.) verbalize the question being begged: "Do they all have the same parents?" When I’ve confirmed that they are both interested and have adequate time for the explanation, I begin–focusing on chronology to make it seem simpler. "Well, my father, Richard, was married the first time, right out of the Navy. He and his first wife, Sharon, ended up having three children: Richelle, Randi, and Richie." Seems simple enough, they think–three half-siblings. Then I explain that my mother, Sonja, who was twelve years younger than my father, lived across the street from them and frequently baby-sat the kids. "Okay…" the face of the listener seems to say, and I can see they’re preparing themselves for a curious twist. It’s here that I decide how in-depth this particular version of the story should go. The short form says abruptly, "Then my mom got pregnant with my brother, Charles…" (here I must check for puzzled looks to see if they’ve filled in the gaps) "…and then my dad got divorced. Four years later, they had me." Then I pause to wrap up the first sections: "So I have three half-siblings, and one full-blood brother."

As they brace themselves for the next part of the saga, I continue. "Eleven years later, he left my mom for a woman twenty years younger than himself–but she eventually faded out of the picture…" Without further ado, I continue in back-at-the-ranch style: "Meanwhile, my mother remarried a man who already had five children, three of whom were still living at home. Arthur’s kids, from oldest to youngest, are Todd, David, Melissa, Michelle, and Michael–and the last two are twins…" Then, back to summarizing: "…So, in addition, I have five step-siblings."

While they’re getting used to that notion, I spill the rest in one fell swoop, "And then my father married Tara, who is 32 years his junior (making her two years older than me and younger than my other siblings) who also happened to be a childhood friend of mine, and together they have twin boys, named Zander and Devyn, who were born just before my 24^th birthday." By this time, my listener looks obviously overwhelmed, and becomes somewhat unsure of their counting skills, since they’ve run out of fingers. As their heads slowly clear, I have to field a barrage of questions. These frequently include: "How weird is it that you grew up with your stepmom?"; "Do you call her ‘Mom’?"; "Isn’t that like in Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure when Ted says, ‘Hey Bill, remember when I asked your stepmom to the prom?’ ‘Shut up, Ted!’"; and "Doesn’t your dad remind you of Kevin Spacey’s character in American Beauty–the one who’s obsessed with his daughter’s friend?"; and so forth.

Yes, my life does have film-like qualities–it is a bit surreal to think about at times. However, there are even more scary coincidences that a movie couldn’t get away with; for example, the man my mother married is my stepmother’s uncle–his first wife, now deceased, was sisters with Tara’s mother. So I can call her mom "grandma" or "aunt," and my stepmom can call my stepsiblings "cousins." (You may have heard of the old song, "I’m My Own Grandpa"–it’s kind of like that.) To top even that on the bizarre-twist scale, my dad’s first wife once had an affair with the grandfather of my brother’s future wife, making our town seem far smaller than it actually is. However, I reserve these tidbits for icing, and use them only on people who prove amusingly shell-shocked…

Now some might think I’m being irreverent in talking about my family the way I do, but I only joke because that’s the easiest way to get through explaining it. Humor is, of course, the most popular coping mechanism known to dysfunctional families. I am aware, though, of the serious side to all this. At one point, I realized that the divorce ratio in my family is astounding–it reads like a scorecard: 11 to 4, divorces winning by a landslide. Put a little more plainly: Dad has two divorces himself, and of the seven siblings who have braved marriage, their divorces add up to nine. Only four that I know of are currently with a partner, and three of those have chosen to live together, rather than actually tie the knot.

Needless to say, I’m sure you’ll not be surprised to hear that I am somewhat shy of the whole commitment thing. Having such an extended family does cause one to question what it is to be a modern family. Perhaps the family-tree software developers should take note and add a patch of some kind for folks like me. I mean, I’m sure there are folks like me–aren’t there? Anyone?

A Case Study in Modern Family Research

Would you believe me if I told you my stepmom can call my stepsiblings "cousins"?