poundridgeplume

Summer draws to a close, and our family turns to the start of a new academic year.  Ever since the kids came to live with us,  I tend to view this time as our “new year.”  January 1st is now “mid-year.”

In the tradition of new year resolutions, I began thinking about change.  Then a dear friend shared these words with me:  read, mark, and learn.

I realize these words come from the Book of Common Prayer.  Whereas I don’t consider myself particularly religious nor a reader of Scriptures, the prompting to “inwardly digest” that which inspires and directs us resonates within me regardless of faith or lack thereof.

This dear friend recently attended the funeral for the father of one of our writing workshop classmates.  Listening to the loving tributes shared with the attendees, she thought about this man – a man whom she had never met – who he had been, what he had accomplished, and what he meant to his family and friends.

The experience made an impression upon her.  Ideas in the tributes urged her to add in who he was to who she would work to be going forward in her own life.   This would serve as a guide to her actions, in deeds and words, starting NOW.  Indeed, she’s embarked on a graduate writing program, a long-held dream.  “Get cracking,” she told herself.

And that, in turn, made an impression upon me.  I missed the opportunity to hear the tributes which so moved my friend, but from her recounting of the event, I got the message nonetheless.  “Get cracking,” I told myself as well.

At this time of annual transition, I’m getting going by getting up earlier to make more use of my day.  Although not on the scale of my friend’s, it is a start because it alters my mindset.  You productive early-risers out there may snicker, but this takes commitment on my part.  I am naturally a late-to-bed, late-to-get up type of person, but that simply does not work with our current lifestyle and daily obligations at work and home. Believe me, I’ve tried.  If I want to fit in those activities that challenge, invigorate, restore, and direct me, then getting up earlier to get a jump on the day is where I start life differently this year.

Not a big splash per se.  But one change leads to another and, in ripple-effect manner, to larger ones.  I’m working toward those.

I’ve felt like this dog looks.

Children demand a lot of time and energy. (Duh.)  I know this is true for all parents, but if you don’t have children of your own, and never planned to have children of your own, and suddenly, unplanned, you find yourself raising someone else’s children full time, that time and energy feels like it’s been snatched from you without your consent.  On top of that, countless books and well-meaning people tell you that you have to accept this graciously.  The children’s needs come first (so I’ve been told innumerable times).

What people didn’t tell me was how challenging it would be when – *Poof!* – one-on-one time with my husband disappeared.

We were newlyweds when my stepchildren came to live with us a few years ago.  When I met my husband, the kids were living with their mother in another state. She had fought hard to keep them after the divorce and my husband had finally acquiesced.  Since you know that the youngest two children live with us now, you can figure out that things didn’t go well with their mother.  (I think I said that rather respectfully, don’t you?).  Several anxiety-inducing child custody battles in family court (truly a black hole if ever I found one), and plenty of “you’re not my mother”- type comments and behavior at home drained us as dry as raisins.

All this sturm und drang meant finding some alone time with Dearest Beloved to remember why we got married in the first place was critical.  But trying to fit that time in without interruption by the kids was like trying, and failing, to pull the winning lottery ticket for one of those Powerball lotteries.

Now, just so that we’re clear on this:  yes, I recognized that the kids needed time with their father.  They were desperate for his attention in first couple of years of their transition to our household.  I accepted that, somewhat begrudgingly at first I’ll admit since it meant I had to sacrifice my time with him,  and I made room in my heart for it.

It isn’t like I didn’t expect that the situation would be difficult.  Going through it, living it daily, though,  can wear on you.  Constant dropping water wears away a stone.

We set up a date night once a week.  When you’re used to adult time all the time, anywhere, it is an adjustment to schedule dinner out together just to capture adult time for a couple of hours.  We stuck to our schedule even if we felt too tired to go out; as we all know, you’ve got to have your own time together,  out of the house and away from the kids.  It wasn’t as much time as I wanted, but it was better than nothing, I figured.

I learned to make do with less time together for now.

For now.  Two magic words with a big payoff.  I say this because I also learned that life is in the present moments.  All that ruminating about the past, or dreaming about the future keeps us out of the present, and when you are out of the present, you don’t see what you are missing.  As John Lennon sung, life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.  

Sure enough, the present is changing, and the changes are remarkable. Less drama, more routine.  My stepson will be joining my stepdaughter in high school this year. They often  seek Facebook and Tumblr and their friends rather than us, or specifically, Dearest Beloved.  We find ourselves alone more, even in the house.  Once they start driving, my husband says the kids won’t stay home much, and I believe him.  Lately they’ve become glued to their laptops – their portal for socializing – for hours.  Dinner at home is still, and will remain, a family affair, but once dinner is done, the kids are antsy to leave the table, especially when we begin discussing “boring” topics like politics or the economy.  In fact, mentioning Obama or Romney is just about guaranteed to send them skedaddling to their rooms.  Talk about the consumer price index leaves skid marks on the floor.

The dog’s face in the picture above can be interpreted many ways, as can my familial experiences these past few years.  For the time being, I’ll keep an eye on the here and now.

(And, yes, DB has a new epitaph).

Sitting outside with a glass of iced tea.  Nice, no?