People say that relationships require compromise. Well, punch line and drum roll please. How's this for ironic: Being divorced requires compromise as well.

That was one of the most challenging adjustments I had to make.

Divorce means that everyone has to make some sort of sacrifice: There won't be enough money, room, or time. When there are children involved, it's hard not to go a little nuts every day.

There's a constant reminder of adjustments that don't seem to rack up points in your favor. In fact, everybody feels pissed.

The kids are back from Fire Island. I've meditated and therapized myself throughout the summer. I'm calm, at peace, and ready to cultivate an attitude of gratitude.

Can you hear the tinkle of ancient Tibetan bells?

Amazing how easy it is to feel calm on a retreat, or at a health spa, or in the simple act of meditation. But taking this thoughtful way of life back to the real world, when everyone's trying to get out the door for school, is another thing.

And when it gets to compromise, it's very hard to cultivate a sense of peace. Why can't we blame someone else, or feel sorry for ourselves?

But chasing thoughts in that direction is bound to lead to an attitude explosion that does more damage than good.

So, after every mountaintop experience, I prepare myself for the inevitable adjustment back into the real world. My goal is to breathe myself into a state of acceptance.

I am truly as happy as a clam in my kitchen, where the air is thick with smoke as I whip up my favorite recipes. Feeding the kids is one of my simplest and most direct acts of love.

Except what happens when one of the kids is a no-show? When the cell phone plan doesn't work, and a child chooses to bunk down at Dad's house?

Should moms just accept the fact that teens roam around, and be thankful when they turn up at the dinner table three nights a week?

Do I count my blessings because at least everyone in the family lives in the same town?

A compromise is called for: freedom versus family time, Mom's time versus Dad's time. Is that a battle really worth the fight?

I know plenty of people who just give up. The dealings with the ex-spouse are too painful. They relinquish their time with the kids and slip into the shadows.

That's not a compromise. Everybody loses when that's the case.

And then I know people who are addicted to struggling with the spouse. What kept them in toxic nonstop struggles has become a way of life.

Five, six, ten years down the road, they're still battling.

The dogs are barking at my door and one of my four teens is here for:

1) food

2) a hug

3) or a bed for the night.

Truth be told, I can't ask for seven nights a week, 52 weeks a year of their time. But I can be grateful and appreciative for the time we do have.
Hard as it is, that has to be good enough for me. And that's comprise.