Staying Married in Tough Times

April came and chaos was the norm in our family's routine:

The school our 15-year-old daughter was attending was unable to keep her in class and she was being sent to detention every day. We scheduled a 7th planning session with her teachers and the school district.

Meanwhile, our 19-year-old god-son who had been living with us for one year refused to look for a job and he had stopped attending classes at the community education center.

Our other 18-year-old god-son who had moved in with us four years earlier was quiet but daring us to check up on his homework. He later ended the school year with all Ds and one C.

Our 20-year-old daughter who moved back home with her 3-month old daughter glared at us each time we asked her to help with chores, and our 21-year-old son was staying awake all night chatting on the computer and sleeping until 11am or noon the next day.

We did have an 18-year-old who was studying hard to graduate from honors from high school and we were waiting to see what scholarships he had been awarded.
I felt cheated because of my lack of time with him.

My income as a commission-only roofing salesman in Southern California was dwindling away since the region only had 3 inches of rain that winter. I was making 60% less than I was the year before during the same period.

Since all our children except one (all adopted) and guardian-children were considered serious level "special needs" we did have state funding available to cover some expenses.

Our house was so noisy I had trouble sitting quietly in my study to determine my options.

I looked on the calendar in the kitchen and each day was filled with doctor's appointments, teacher meetings, and counseling sessions.

A Simple Hug

But my wife and I had made one simple strategic improvement in our marriage that continued to pay off. We often paused to give each other a 6-second hug. The contact didn't reduce the intensity of our circumstances, but it did let us know we appreciated each other. That simple act gave me an emotional anchor during a time of severe crisis and gave us a foundation to communicate with each other.

But another positive step was feeling safe with my wife and letting her know when I wanted a time with her. We didn't get away from the house and kids as often as we should. It was tough since we had to make babysitting arrangements for our 15-year-old who looks like a teenager but has the mental development of a kindergartener; plus her diagnosis as oppositional defiant and the laziness and mischievousness of the older boys made for a volatile mix when we stepped out.

I Realized My Responsibility

My wife used to complain she felt stress when I wanted a time away because it meant she had to do all the planning. So I helped with the task and no longer placed the expectation on her.

My times with her, though, gave me relief from the stress we were facing. We went for walks each night which was her preference while mine was going someplace to sit down for a cup of coffee.

Our budget only allowed for simple get-aways. But she never blamed me for a lack of income, and I didn't blame her for not being able to give me attention. We tried to support each other as best we could.

I also found a get-away place, a clean but low-budget motel where we could go for a few hours. Intimacy was next to impossible in our 24-hour home operation. I like to call it a "working house" like a "working ranch."

The year before, during a time of similar crisis and upheaval, I felt she wasn't paying attention to me and I had no control at home. Our meetings with our family counselor were always focused on strategies for the kids and I felt out of the discussion. I began to envision escape through an affair. The stress bore down on me and I saw no hope at home.

But now, a year later, we had developed quiet strategies like our 6-second hug.

A Creative Idea

One day, after a Saturday filled with driving through Los Angeles traffic to 3 roofing appointments, and 3 no sales, I decided I needed to have a time with her. The motel idea thrilled me, but would she say 'no' because of our budget? No one likes rejection but I felt I could calmly tell her the investment would be worthwhile. Plus, I was making the decision so the burden was off of her.

I drove home and she was braiding our 15-year-old's hair. The thanks she got was our daughter yelling at her and screaming each braid hurt. Fortunately, we had a family friend who was acting as a buffer. I looked at the clock - 4 pm. I wanted to be out of the house by 5:30 pm.

I pulled her aside and told her what I had been thinking - it felt like asking someone for a date and knowing I might not be accepted. She sighed and said, "yeah, let's get out of here." But first, she had to finish the braids and then the family friend wanted to talk.

I decided to take charge and pack what I wanted for our "special time."

We made it out the door by 5:30pm and were back home by 10pm. It cost us $40 for a few hours but I figured it was instead of paying for dinner and a movie.

We had enough time to unwind before beginning to enjoy each other. It was our very own "affair" with each other.

It allowed us to appreciate each other and I found myself not even considering an "affair" as an option to escape the stress. I felt slightly guilty for whisking her away, but then I knew we also earned the quiet time we had - and we both needed.

We both agreed to another "motel time" two months later and then we also enjoyed a drive to the nearby mountains in our motor home. I have also agreed to help find a helper for our 15-year-old, a task I would otherwise have let my wife tackle.

While the noise level stayed high at home, our times together help me deal more calmly with the kids when returning home.

Keeping our marriage intact is eventually going to be a healing example for our kids who each faced trauma before they came to our home. But getting away for brief times, and my understanding to take leadership in those moments rather than be embarrassed in talking to my wife, is one strategic step in staying married with tough kids.