<a href="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/maeve2.jpg"><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-321" title="maeve2" src="http://www.halfwaytonormal.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/maeve2.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="375" /></a>

<strong>Meet Maeve, everyone!</strong> We've had her for a week now, and the transition has gone remarkably well.

Of course, getting a dog causes a significant shift in the daily routines of a household. And, when things shift, we're able to see everyday aspects of our lives in new ways. Here are some of the ways I can feel myself shifting since Maeve came into our lives.
<h4>True down time replaces pseudo down time.</h4>
I used to <em>think</em> I knew how to relax. I would recline on the sofa and count it as relaxing, even if I had my laptop on my stomach. Or I would be doing something that technically counts as relaxing—like reading a book or watching an episode of "The Wire" with Jason—but in some ways, those books and shows were still items on my to-do list. It was just my "Have Fun" to-do list, rather than my "Do Work" list.

But nothing teaches you how to fully, utterly relax like a dog or cat. And of all the down-time expert canines around, I think Maeve is the crown princess. The sofa is her very favorite place—after the bed, of course. She finds patches of sun, wherever they happen to fall, arranges her velvety self in the most comfortable of possible ways, and then she just <em>is</em>. She breathes and, well, that's all.

<strong>I really needed more inspiration and practice just <em>being</em>—doing absolutely nothing.</strong> When I take a break from whatever I'm up to, to just sit on the sofa in the sun with Maeve, I'm able to complete vacate, without leaving my home.
<h4>Practicing the affectionate side of love.</h4>
As my girls have gotten older, the expression of my love for them has become more complex. With babies, you love them by feeding them and cuddling them. But with older kids, a lot of that love becomes problem solving, and explanations. You help them navigate the world, you build their confidence, and you teach them skills they'll need to know in life.

All of this is important and good, but it's also good to be reminded how powerful pure, affectionate, silent time together can be. Often, I'm tempted to explain to Maeve why I'm so busy, or why I had to leave her in her crate for three hours, or why Jason went out of town for four days. But I can't, of course. <strong>My only option is to show her love, calming her worries and building her confidence through undivided attention and affection.</strong> We all need that, sometimes, even more than the explanations and words.
<h4>Morning walks mean more contemplation and prayer.</h4>
I tend to do my best, most focused thinking out loud, in conversation with others. But when I'm alone, which I am for most of every work day, I think most deeply and completely while I'm walking.

I sort through problems, complete all the thoughts that have trailed off and gotten lost in my busy days, and write entire blog posts in my head. I also talk to God, which I've always found really difficult to do at length while sitting still.

<strong>Taking a walk and doing this sort of thinking and praying in the morning is the best possible way to start my day.</strong> Before Maeve, though, I rarely took the time to do it, because the day's to-do list was always urging me straight to my computer. Maeve provides the perfect excuse to tell my to-do list it can wait.
<h4>A dog is good, sticky glue for a blended family.</h4>
This is something Jason and I didn't really anticipate, but Maeve has been a really wonderful way to bind our family together. Blended families, as second marriage families are called, can be tricky. We don't have biological ties to bind us. The girls have other families, as well as relatives and friends and homes that go with those other families. Jason and I have different histories and traditions that we're trying to share and blend as a new family, along with building new stories and traditions.

But Maeve belongs to all five of us. <strong>We share equal affection for her, and our common doting and cuddling fests are true family activities.</strong> We carry on about how cute she is when she yawns or cocks her head to listen (and we realize no one from outside of our family will want to join in our ridiculousness—it's an activity solely for the five of us). The girls pile on our bed in the mornings, so we can all be near the very lovey-dovey pup. And we marvel together at how we ended up with the Very Best Dog in the world.