“Time is going by so much faster than I, and I’m starting to regret not spending all of it with you. Now I’m wondering why I’ve kept this bottled inside. So I’m starting to regret not telling of it to you.” — Nickelback

I suppose I ought to introduce myself. Some of you may remember me from a few years ago when I contributed a weekly column to the Journal, chronicling life as I knew it. You see, I had decided a while back that my life was way too humorous and/or entertaining to keep just for the circle of family and friends who are witness to my gamut of blunders, mistakes and upheavals, and what better way to share with more of my neighbors than to publish them in a newspaper? Though circumstances determined I should take a break from writing for a while, I’ve returned and will again be submitting articles every week. Feel free to point and laugh at will.

When I first began writing this column I was freshly divorced, a single mom of a little girl and trying to find where I fit in this crazy hometown of mine. I had also recently returned to work for my father at Reilly’s Bakery and I had just started getting my head around the idea of dating again.

Wow, it seems like that was a lifetime ago.

As time progressed I did manage to survive dating for a while. As a practice it seemed like one mishap after another. I had forgotten just brutal single life could be on one’s ego. Like learning how to live a married life, returning to being single was a world unto itself. In the years I had been married all the rules had changed. Honestly I had no clue how to act, I had forgotten what flirting meant and my radar for bad seeds was malfunctioning. Badly. Thankfully, I had a friend who was experiencing the same changes in her life and we were able to learn the ropes together.

I was also faced with raising a little one on my own and the weight of that responsibility was astounding. No more excuses, I only had me to rely on at the end of the day. The one and only thing I knew for certain was how much I wanted to be the kind of person I saw reflected in her eyes.

Thankfully, I survived single life relatively unscathed and luckily found someone I undoubtedly wanted to spend a life with. The punch line was between the two of us we have four children. Blending our families seemed as though it would be an easy transition at the time as all of us were putting our best faces forward. His kids, all older than mine, were amazing to my little one and we all couldn’t wait to become today’s version of the Brady Bunch.

So we bought a house, moved the kids, animals, stuff and junk in and hoped for the best.

Nearly three years have gone by since then. I’d like to say our original optimism was spot-on and we lived happily ever after. I’d also like to say the transition was smooth-sailing.

Weeeeeelll, not quite.

I’ve crammed a lifetime of lessons into those few years. For all the challenges of raising a child who’s biologically tied to you, being a part of raising a blended family presents ten times more obstacles.

It turns out the writers for the Brady Bunch were grossly misinformed. I mean, how do you throw six children together in one house like they did (three to a room, no less) and the worst of the arguments involved Jan half-heartedly whining about Marsha? That’s it? The biggest catastrophe I caught wind of in my years of watching that show as a kid was Marsha getting clocked with a football to the face and broke her nose.

And how is it, even after years of perfect step-parenting, that Carol still sported a size 2 and looked like she just had her hair done? No gray hair on Michael either?! Where was the misplaced anger against the non-biological parent? The bottle of Tums? Heart pills?

I guess it helped enormously that they had Alice doing all their dirty work and getting free meat products from Sam the butcher.

My bunch, it seems, is based much more on modern-day reality. We are a family but we’ve worked really hard, with many ups and just as many downs, to call ourselves one.

These days my life resembles my old single time in fewer and fewer ways. Now, instead of searching for ways to occupy my time, my days are full to the brim with kids, mortgage payments and giant mountains of laundry. There’s never a lack of dishes to wash but there’s always someone close by to talk to while I scrub away.

I would also like to say I could look back over the past few years and know without a doubt I did everything the way I should. I would like to, but that wouldn’t be parenting by trade, regardless of bloodlines.

So I invite you to join me in this crazy ride that is my life. Its ever-changing, always entertaining and absolutely never dull.

— Elizabeth Reilly Hussey can be reached at elizabethreilly1@yahoo.com.