We all know that relationships are damn difficult. Successful romantic alliances require mutual commitment, relentless dedication, and a healthy sense of humor. Ideally, when two people take the plunge into partnership, they accept one another unconditionally, for better or worse. This blanket of tolerance covers the obnoxious Monday-night-football friend, the record collection, and the dishwashing disability. The endless niceties your sweetie bestows most likely outweigh the trivial annoyances, but keeping the balance is a difficult task. Maintaining a relationship is a full-time job, and there are no time-outs on the superhighway of love. You work and compromise and work and compromise, and when you finally find a comfortable groove, it's like you're gymnast Kerri Strug and you're seconds away from nailing the perfect landing.

That is, until your partner's parents enter the picture. Now, I'm not trying to paint a negative picture of said parents, but it's smart to recognize their potential for introducing disaster. Depending on their role in your partner's life, you may be in for more than you've ever bargained for. In past relationships, I've had to remind myself that I'm only dating one person, not an entire family. It's easy to lose sight of that when their baggage and idiosyncrasies begin creeping into your world. I'm not claiming complete innocence here -- I'm the first to admit that my family has its fair share of quirks. But they possess a certain level of decorum and discretion from which other families could take a lesson. They stand behind my decisions, whether they like them or not, and they stay at an unobtrusive distance. I like it that way.

My firsthand experiences have ranged from dating the total mama's boy to dating someone with near-perfect parents. I strongly advise against getting involved with any post-collegiate man whose mother still has primary say in any of his decision-making. My two-year stint with a law student proved that although I was the one getting naked and horizontal, he may well have still been breastfeeding. At his parents' urging, Philip miserably went to law school -- within 20 minutes of home. Every single time there was a household problem, from the dog needing a walk to fixtures needing to be fixed, you can guess whose phone rang. Philip was basically his mother's on-call houseboy, sans sex. If his "Yes, mother" response so much as skipped a beat, a well-rehearsed guilt trip ensued. Perhaps if his father had been disabled, or if Philip had been any only child, or if the family hadn't had the money to pay for such services, I wouldn't have questioned the never-ending stream of requests. Although his parents were always polite and pleasant to me, they made it clear they weren't handing over full rein any time soon. Luckily, Philip worked his way out of my system after I realized I could never compete.

Another scenario to avoid is the guy with the divorced alcoholic parent. My whirlwind romance with Evan, a fellow from New York City, was marred by such a parent almost from the start. He'd just given his fiancée a pink slip and was looking for some rebound romance. I was in the same post-break-up position and was more than willing to play. But I should've sensed that something was awry when he invited his mother on our second date. Throughout dinner, she sucked down vodka tonics and babbled about the Harry Winston ring I could have "if I played my cards right." I wasn't playing to win in this situation and should have walked away right then and there; the fly-by-night relationship really wasn't that important to me. Every time she was depressed (a frequent occurrence), Evan's mother would appear on his doorstep with a packed bag and stay for several days at a time. He would defend her actions, pointing to her alcoholism and the death of her most recent husband. I understand alcoholism is an illness, but I couldn't stand that he fully enabled her self-destructive behavior and that she accepted no responsibility for it.

On the flip side, I've broken up with men whose families I've cried over losing. I admit I once considered keeping things going with a guy for the sake of staying in contact with his wonderful parents and sister. Sometimes a positive post-parting familial relationship is possible, but it's rare. Your ex inevitably meets someone new, and the family is forced to accept your replacement.

The most important lesson here is that the old adage "You marry a family" is generally true. I usually scorn old-fashioned wisdom, but the more families I come into dating contact with, the more I realize that it's absolutely necessary to consider the additional baggage upfront. You can't escape it -- everyone's family has issues, and it's a question of picking what you can and cannot live with. Some behaviors can be altered (calling before 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning), but some simply aren't going to budge (racist comments). So, when seriously considering a mate, I now insist on a parental meeting as soon as possible. That way, I can size up the situation and decide whether the relationship is worth going the extra mile.

Charyn Pfeuffer, who has known her current beau's family for 18 years and finds them to be nearly flawless, can be reached at cpfeuffer@yahoo.com..

Issue Date: February 1 - 7, 2002