There are only so many memorable moments in a child’s life, and only so many “firsts:” The first time mastering a two-wheeler, the first fireworks display, the first time on a plane, and so on. The hardest part of being a dual-custody parent is losing some of these moments. The child’s time — and thereby, his firsts — are routinely divided between the two parents.

My ex and I generally break even in that regard, since our custody situation is a 50-50 split. But how many moments have I lost out on? I got the first trip to Disney World and his first pro baseball game; She got his first trip overseas and, last month, his first visit to Niagara Falls, which, while it’s no Disney World, was a huge success with our son. And there are other, smaller moments that I’ve been able to share with him: I took him to his first rock concert and made it to his school talent show, where he played Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man” on guitar. My ex has her share of those moments she was able to share with him.

This whole concept came up on our recent vacation, when my girlfriend stood back and observed as her little boy, clutched to her own mother, watched the July 4th fireworks display overhead down in the Carolinas. At 4, it wasn’t his first view of fireworks, but it was certainly a memorable moment. He covered his ears and looked up with a mixture of wonderment and fear. She later told me that she was hit with the notion in that instance that she was missing that moment, so she walked over to her mom and asked to hold her boy. She both soothed him and shared the display with him for the remainder of the show. It was a shared moment she’ll certainly remember, as will he. And it made us think of the firsts and the moments we’ll inevitably miss with both our boys.

Ultimately, the boys benefit from having the experience at all, whether it’s with their mom or their dad. That’s comforting. But it carries a tinge of sadness, that there are times when we won’t be the ones to share the memory. It makes me hope that those parents out there who share all those moment appreciate the value of it.

For me, there’s no doubt how much it’s worth.

Here’s a milestone: Pumpkin just discovered the suffix. Now, instead of saying something is “big, big,” to add emphasis, she can now say that it’s bigg-er. Other things are long-er. She feels happi-er. It’s a neat feat to witness. And a bit of a “told you so” to a pediatrician who scoffed that a couple of months wouldn’t make a difference in Pumpkin’s speech abilities. All around, we’re hearing a lot more full sentences and combinations with vocabulary I didn’t even know she possessed.

I bring all this up because I think parents shouldn’t devalue their own knowledge of their child just because an authority figure, like a doctor, has a conflicting point of view. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I saw a similar speech blossoming last year after Pumpkin passed her second due-date “birthday.” Now, as my growing preemie approaches her third due-date “birthday,” she is having another burst of speech development.

I would invite you to share your own tales of times where mom or dad were right — counter to the prevailing wisdom. (I’m thinking this could apply to anything from advice to hold back or move a child up a grade to whether to continue or discontinue lessons.)

The stereotype suggests that dads are great for playing ball with the kids, but are reluctant to change diapers. It suggests that the more “manly” parenting duties are left to dads, while the more “nurturing” tasks fall on moms. Well, a single dad has to assume both roles, just as single moms find themselves having a catch with the kids on the front lawn. But how reluctant are some single dads to assume the more traditional mothering tasks?

I came across an excerpt on this issue on the home page of the Dr. Spock Company, a group of parenting and child care experts who subscribe to the philosophies of the late uber-pediatrician Dr. Benjamin Spock. Here’s what they wrote on this:

“Everything I’ve said about a mother raising a child alone applies to a father raising a child alone. But often there’s an additional problem. Few fathers in our society feel completely comfortable in a nurturing role. Many men have been brought up believing that being a nurturing person is “soft” and therefore feminine. So, many fathers will find it hard, at least at first, to provide the gentle comforting and cuddling that children need, especially young children. But, with time and experience, they can certainly rise to the task.”

Personally, I’ve never worried about societal stereotypes as a father, and changed plenty of diapers while I was still married. I’ve also always been very warm with my son, and we exchange “I love yous” on a regular basis — something I never got enough of from my own dad. But I have to wonder if I’d feel limited in what I could offer as a parent if I had a daughter. And, generally, I feel there’s more acceptance of a mom playing catch with her son than there is for a dad braiding his daughter’s hair.

The issue is somewhat moot for me now, since I am building a blended family and we have both a father and a mother figure in the house. But I know my girlfriend worried early on that her little boy lacked male role models, as his time with his father was limited. And as a divorced dad, it was something I dealt with when I was single. For instance, when boys reach a certain age their dads seem reluctant to hold their hands while they’re out: Moms do it as a matter of habit.

The wisdom of Dr. Spock suggests that, with time, dads can learn to provide the additional nurturing children need. But is there a line that even the most nurturing dads won’t cross, whether it’s holding hands with an older son or shopping for an American Doll with a daughter? And as for societal stereotypes, what is your reaction if you see a dad holding a 12-year-old son’s hand at the mall?

 I don’t know if this is good news or bad news, but it’s certainly reality.

The point is that the rise in blended-family homes and situations is increasingly obvious. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that this means more children are growing up having to make the adjustment, and dealing with a  whole host of emotional issues that come from juggling step-parent and biological parent, step-sibling and biological sibling relationships, etc. Lord knows my girlfriend and I spend a good deal of our time working on that transition for our two boys and discussing better ways to make that smoother. It’s an imperfect—and ongoing—process, and one that more and more other parents are evidently going through.

At least that’s what I found on The Blended Family website, which cites the following stats, for which they credit the U.S. Census Bureau. At some point I’ll have to track down some research on the adaptability of children in blended family situations compared to traditional homes. I suspect it’s like anything parental: If the adults do the right thing, the kids benefit. The shocking thing to me is how often you hear of parents who don’t seem aware of the dynamics inherent in a step-family.

Either way, here are the stats:

• About 50,000 persons per month become members of stepfamilies


• 1 out of 4 children will live in a stepfamily before the age of 18


• About 1,350,000 children will become members of a stepfamily this year:
  55% ~ because of remarriage after a divorce
  15% ~ because of remarriage after a spouse’s death
  30% ~ when a never-married mother weds


• 80% of all divorced Americans remarry and 60% of these will have children from a former marriage

Remember the prom date? In this earlier blog, I spoke about a mom who put her foot down when her 15-year-old son was asked to go to the prom by a senior girl in his high school. Her thinking was that he was too young, etc., etc. That sparked some lively debate.

Well, the prom came and went, and the 15-year-old did, indeed, attend with the older girl. It turns out that the boy’s mom ultimately had discussions with the girl’s mom, discussed it with her son, and they agreed to the ground rules. So she relented.

How’d he do? Things went smoothly. He was a gentleman, there were no after-parties, and he was home at the agreed-to time. By all accounts, the two had a wonderful—and safe—time together.

So, does this make the concern some of you had moot? Or did the mom dodge a bullet?

What if you can’t stand your child’s pediatrician?

I remember the moment my long-simmering (but still mild) dislike of my daughter’s pediatrician boiled over into actual antipathy. We were discussing Pumpkin’s milestones at her third birthday checkup when the doctor asked if she moved into a bed yet. I said no, and added that Pumpkin loves her crib and hasn’t even tried to climb out. (And this is a child who loves to climb everything else.)

The doctor’s reaction: “Most children have moved into a bed by age 2.”

My response, with an attempt at humor: “I can’t even imagine what her room would look like in the morning if she could get up whenever she wanted. Clothes and diapers would be everywhere, and she’d probably sleep on the floor or in her glider.” Said with a smile and chuckle.

The doctor’s response: “Well, she’s going to have to go into a bed eventually.” With zero (0) humor. No smile. She wasn’t trying to be funny. She was being sarcastic.

I should have replied with something like: “Oh, really? We were hoping to keep her in the crib until college to save money on a new bed and sheets.”

But that would have been the end of our doctor-parent relationship, and I am not 100 percent certain if it should be over. Now, let me say, if this was the first instance of us disagreeing, I probably would let it go, but it’s not. Just for instance, here’s another priceless exchange from the same visit:

Doctor: How much milk does she drink?

Me: About 9 ounces in the morning. She won’t drink milk later in the day, except chocolate milk, and even then, she’ll drink perhaps a half-cup. She really doesn’t like milk or even yogurt.

Doctor: She should be drinking three to four cups a day! (With a look that suggest she thinks I’m either stupid or negligent.)

Me (silently to myself): What do you want me to do? Have you ever tried to make a toddler eat or drink something they don’t want to consume? (For the record, we have this milk conversation every time we have a checkup.) Out loud, I offered that she eats cheese. To that, the doctor replied: “Doesn’t all that cheese make her constipated?” (I never said it was a lot of cheese!)

But even these disagreements — and even her sanctimonious attitude — wouldn’t get under my skin so much if there weren’t a bigger problem: She doesn’t seem to “get” that Pumpkin is a preemie.

Our first pediatrician, who was recommended by the doctors at the White Plains Hospital NICU, was terrific. He seemed to really understand the unique needs of micro-preemies like Pumpkin, who weighed just 1 pound, 13.4 ounces at birth. He was extremely cautious when it came to Pumpkin’s health. He ordered her to avoid public spaces and to stay away from all children, even her cousins, until she weighed 15 pounds. (A milestone she didn’t reach until shortly before her first birthday.) She had monthly shots of vaccine for RSV during her first winter. For you non-preemie parents, RSV (respiratory syncytial virus) is unpleasant but not an emergency. For preemies, it’s a big deal. I appreciated his personal attention. I liked the way he plotted Pumpkin’s growth on a preemie growth chart targeted to her week of gestation at birth. I was very sorry when we had to switch doctors because we switched insurance.

Our new doctor dismisses every attempt I make to talk about Pumpkin in the context of being a preemie. Last year on Pumpkin’s second birthday, she was unhappy with her speech development and suggested an evaluation, adding that we have to judge her by her birth date rather than her due date. The speech therapist disagreed and gauged Pumpkin’s development using her due date, which is a full three months later than her birth date. She turned out to be ineligible for services because although her expressive abilities lagged, her receptive speech was actually ahead of the curve. Perhaps not so amazingly, come August of last year, just after her due date birthday of July 27, Pumpkin’s speech blossomed.

So, this year again, the doctor was unhappy with Pumpkin’s speech, adding, “Most 3-year-old girls are chatterboxes, and she hasn’t talked to me at all.” Well, Pumpkin takes a while to warm up to strange people, and what kind of pediatrician judges people this way? She’s never met a shy child before? I shared the story of what happened with the evaluation last year, including the details of the speech boom in August. Her reply, given with obvious irritation: “Well, you can wait until July, but that’s only two months, and I doubt it will make a difference.”

Plus, she only charts Pumpkin’s growth on the regular chart, where her weight is in just the 10th percentile. I’d like to know how she measures up to other preemies born in her week of gestation, but I can’t find out at that pediatrician’s office. (Parents of preemies: Do you have this problem, too?)

So, what do you all think I should do. I started writing this post as a sort of “Can this doctor-parent relationship be saved?” Maybe it’s really a “Dear Joan” letter.

The hard part: How do you pick a new doctor?

Parenting books often have advice about choosing a pediatrician, suggesting that expecting parents interview potential doctors much like you are a boss hiring someone for a job. Has anyone actually done this? Are you expected to pay for the doctor’s time in these cases? Insurance sure isn’t going to cover it, and I’d be surprised if doctors are so eager for patients (especially the potentially cranky kind that demand pre-visit interviews) that they are giving their time away.

How did you choose your pediatrician? Do you like him/her? Has s/he ever said anything that made you want to wring his/her neck?

(Also: Out of curiosity: How old was your child when you moved him/her into a bed? And was it because of a new sibling? I find it hard to believe that “most children” are in their own beds by age 2!)

Bring it on. My kid’s 10 and I figure it’s high time he got his first rock concert under his belt. After all he’s a little metal head like his dad, and is pretty crazy about Green Day and My Chemical Romance. I’ve even gotten him into Black Sabbath and Radiohead.

But, aside from his recording-artist uncle, he hasn’t really been to a live show yet. We’re changing that.

How to start? My first criteria was that he fare better than I did for my first concert. I was in seventh grade and they gave out promotional tickets for the old Westchester Premier Theater. The performer was country-crooner-turned-casino-act Mac Davis, with comedian Gabe Kaplan — in his pre-Welcome Back Kotter days — as the opening act.

It got better after that. Linda Ronstadt was next, and before you knew it it was Santana, the Allman Brothers, Kiss, etc. By my last year of high school, we were at the old Palladium on 14th Street almost every weekend, watching everyone from Van Halen to Twisted Sister, and whoever else showed up to play that day.

Now it’s my son’s turn. And it’s just going to be our own thing, as the other half of our blending family — my girlfriend and her little boy — will hold down the homefront for the night. For the two of us, I think it’s good bonding time in a “coming-of-age” kind of way, although I suspect other divorced and single parents do these kinds of things as some sort of compensation for time lost or something. To me, it’s really just a great thing to share with my son.

So, the first thing I sought in planning it was advice. The Family Education website offered a list of suggestions on what to keep in mind in such a situation. Some of it was common sense, some of it was silly. But it was advice nonetheless.

The next step was, where to go? I actually considered the Van Halen show at Madison Square Garden tonight. But the Garden was never great on acoustics, is kinda big, and it’s hard to get close to the stage. Besides, decent tickets for this show would’ve run me about $300 a pop. So, that was out. As it is, I had just missed a golden opportunity to take my boy to the Garden: My Chemical Romance wrapped up their tour there on May 9, about one week before I got the rock concert bug in my head. Smaller venues were okay, but they’re mostly just glorified bars which are fine for me, but not for a 10-year-old.

Ultimately, I narrowed it to three sites, including the Beacon Theater and the Jones Beach Theater. The third was Radio City Music Hall, and that’s where we’re headed. That’s not to say that we may not pick up additional shows at Jones Beach or the Beacon later this summer.

Finally, what show to catch? Here’s what we picked: Ringo Starr’s All-Starr Band at the end of next month. I mean, the guy’s a former Beatle, has fun on stage, and puts together a fun group of musicians every time he comes around. This year he’s playing with, among others, Edgar Winter, Billy Squier and Colin Hays from Men at Work. My son loves Winter’s classic, “Frankenstein,” and the rest of it will be kind of a trip for me, since I listened to some of those guys in my teens and 20s.

There are still all these tiny worries dancing around my head, from the show running too late, to someone blowing smoke in his face all night, to drunken behavior around us — all relatively minor issues to me in the larger scope of things. Mostly, I’m kind of excited myself to see any kind of show after several years without one.

So, how’d I do? I gotta think it’s gonna be a thrill for him to just be at a show, let alone for someone legendary like Ringo. I still have it in me to take him to something more hard-edged down the line, and particular would love one guitar hero or another, as my son is learning to play. But, for now, we’ll see how it goes with the Beatle.

Friday was the big night out for my son — his school dance.

This was my son’s second dance, coming on the heels of last year’s fourth grade gala. The fifth-grade version wasn’t much different, except that I have learned to be less intrusive. That is to say, the first time around my ex and I were both there, and she kept prodding him to go and pick a girl to dance with. Not sure what we were thinking, because I wasn’t exactly love-struck at his age.

This time around I was on my own, so I backed off and let him do his thing. I noticed that I was one of the few solo parents there, and actually felt like something of an outcast being a single parent. That’s something that rarely happens with me, so it was an odd sensation. One of the other parents — who I actually went to school with years and years ago — spent a bit of time telling me about his storybook marriage and the splitting of parenting duties he and his wife are able to do: His wife took their son to a Boy Scout event the same night, so he escorted his daughter to the dance. I didn’t take offense, but I wondered why he felt it necessary.

Either way, I did my own thing, and watched from the wings with great amusement. My son, to his credit, stood in the crowd and danced his butt off pretty much  all night. At that age, they’re not necessarily looking for girls to dance with. The girls themselves nearly all dance — again on their own or with other girls. There’s just a real gender divide at this age.

Looking around that room, I wondered when that will start to change. He had his first kiss in kindergarten, and was quite popular with two girls in first grade. By second, he showed less interest, to the degree that now he couldn’t care less if a girl showed interest. So when does that change? I’m sure by high school it’ll be THE issue, over what girl or other he likes or likes him.

In the meantime, I’m good with standing in the wings and watching him do his own thing. As for being one of the few solo parents in the crowd, I’m good with that too. My boy seems okay with it.

I’m a little confused.

One of the things we have been adamant about teaching our boys is good manners. This is something my mom drilled into my brother and myself since we were young, and something I’ve always taught my own child. My girlfriend is the same with her boy, and we both insist on good table manners and polite behavior.

So why do I feel like we’re in the minority? It can’t be for lack of resources on this stuff. Five minutes online and I was able to track down several tip sheets and suggestions for teaching your children manners. Some of the better ones include this web page as well as this other site on the same topic. So what’s going on?

Let me back up. We had two experiences this weekend that make me wonder if young people aren’t being taught manners:

On Saturday, we had a four-year-old birthday party for my girlfriend’s son. When it was time for pizza one of the little boys decided he wanted another boy’s chair, and pretty much muscled him out of it. I get it: He’s only four. But the boy’s father just watched, made one half-hearted suggestion that he not be so pushy, then let it go. The other boy burst into tears.  Poor parenting.

Then the following day, we went shopping at Target in Mount Kisco. We had to return some stuff, so went to the “customer service” counter. The young woman there puts out her hand for the receipt, turns her head to talk to someone else, then, when the receipt was in her hand, she immediately says she’s calling a manager because she doesn’t put up with customers being disrespectful. Huh? The manager comes, never apologizes and says he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Meanwhile, the young woman glares, the manager sees nothing wrong with it and suggests we go on our way.

Two varying encounters, one basic problem. In the first, a four-year-old needs to be directed toward good behavior, and it’s up to the parent to ensure that happens. Children learn from role models. Neither my son nor my girlfriend’s son would ever be allowed to behave that way. In the second instance, it’s an example of someone being raised without manners — let alone professional courtesy a young person needs to succeed in any industry, primarily the retail service industry.

To me, this is something kids should learn before they apply for their first job, whatever that may be. I know plenty of single and divorced parents who instill this in their children — it’s not heavy lifting. And, in our own blended family, it’s the rule.

But am I making too much of this? Or am I right to wish that our boys encountered good manners outside the home as well?

Looking for input on this one.

This is an issue that came up in a friend’s family, and I differ with my girlfriend and others on it. The scenario is this:  A 15-year-old boy was asked to go to the Senior Prom by a senior at the school. The parents know each other and the kid’s a good kid. He’s never been in trouble, very mature and the whole bit. The girl asked him, and he said yes.

Next, he told his mom, who said he could not go because he is too young to go to a Senior Prom. The boy never shared this with the girl, and told her he would be going. When the parents ran into each other, the boy’s mom found out he had not declined as she told him. So, he got grounded and will not be going to the prom either way.

The two issues are this: Is a 15-year-old boy too young to go to a Senior Prom? Secondly, should he have been grounded for defying his mother’s wishes and not telling the girl he wouldn’t be allowed to go? Frankly, I’m not sure how he would’ve pulled it off when the prom day comes around, but perhaps he hoped to convince his mother before then.

For the record, the parent here is in a traditional two-parent home, so it’s not a single-parenting issue. Of course, I always think of these situations as they would apply to single-parent or blended family homes, and I think that adds other potential elements. So, my third question is, does your answer to the first two questions change if I apply the situation to a single-parent household?

Anyway, what do you think?

Sometimes dad needs a helping hand. Well, here it comes, thanks to the United Way of Westchester and Putnam, and Family Services of Westchester. They’re sponsoring the New York Father’s Conference in White Plains on April 26th. It’s long overdue, I say.

The idea is to bring together dads from all walks of life — be they happily married, divorced, single, etc. — for a day-long program to provide advice, guidance and referrals. It features guest speakers that include Hugh Price, a senior fellow at the Brookings Institution and former president of the National Urban League, as well as former NY Jet offensive back Bruce Harper, who is the co-founding director of the youth program “Heroes and Cool Kids.”

Russell Ross, senior vice president of community initiatives for the United Way, told me they’ve had similar conferences elsewhere in the past, including in Rockland County. But this is the first in Westchester County — and he hopes not the last.

“One of the things that we’ve seen in our research and talking to a lot of folks that are working with families is that dads don’t really have an opportunity to interact with each other and learn and kind of share,” he said. “Women and moms, they have their groups.”

Scheduled workshops are to address a number of issues, including wise discipline, balancing work, helping kids succeed in school, and staying connected as a non-custodial parent. You can check out the entire list and get more details on the United Way link for the program.

If you can’t get to a computer, call the United Way at 914-997-6700, ext. 702. But think about checking it out.

My son wants to make it to a Yankee game this year before they shut down the historic Bronx stadium for good and move next door. No problem there. I’m a longtime and avid fan, and took him to his first game there years ago. I myself have been going to games since 1970, when my dad and uncle took us to the old stadium to see the Bombers get demolished by the Orioles. I also had partial season tickets for years, when I worked out of the Bronx County Courthouse during my stint at the Daily News.

Here’s the catch: My son wants to go with just me and his mom — the former family unit.

I have some mixed feelings on this, and it makes for some awkwardness. I’ve always felt fortunate that my ex and I were able to maintain a friendship, and that we are all able to get along. My girlfriend and I had my ex and her husband over for Christmas Eve dinner (it’s a feast we call Noche Buena in Cuban culture, and it’s a big deal for us), and I had Easter brunch with my ex, her family and her husband last month. As I’ve blogged before, we all went trick-or-treating together last year as well.

To be fair, I can see how my son might simply view an outing to a Yankee game as an extension of the friendship his mom and I maintain. But at the same time, I feel like excluding his mom’s husband and his dad’s new partner is a sign that he may be clinging to something. Obviously, he wouldn’t be the first child to want his parents together, even if it is just for a baseball game.

But are we letting him mislead himself if we go along? Or is it just his wish to have an outing with his parents?

Or am I just making too much out of it?

This is a belated post about Easter. We’ve had a busy week in our family. My mom went into the hospital in New York on Wednesday for surgery and I’ve been down there every day. But I wanted to put my thoughts out here on Easter and our traditions because this year they were tested — and stood up to the test.

We learned last month that my mom would be having surgery in March, but we didn’t know which date. This immediately put our usual plans for Easter in flux. For the past three years, my mom and my husband’s two sisters and parents have gathered at our house. The first time was the year I was pregnant with the Pumpkin. It was a wonderful day. We were so joyful with anticipation of the baby. And I was so excited to share my family’s traditional Polish Easter recipes with my husband’s Italian family. (Even if I had to keep going outside to get fresh air to clear up my morning sickness.) The next year was even more special. Pumpkin, who was born three months early, had been forbidden from contact with other kids until she was 15 pounds — a milestone she had just reached around Easter. Easter 2006 was the first time she met her cousins. Last year was special, too, as Pumpkin participated in an egg hunt for the first time, and enjoyed chocolate Easter bunny for the first time.

So, when the complication of the surgery came up this year, I was initially reluctant to cancel Easter. We hoped my mom would be a few weeks past her surgery and ready to celebrate. Then, a series of events put those hopes on hold. Her surgery ended up moving to the end of March. My mother-in-law got sick with a condition she’s still recovering from. And my sister-in-law’s family had some troubles of their own. No one was up for a big Easter celebration outside their own homes. My first reaction to the breakup of our usually big party of nine adults and six kids was to wonder whether it would be worth the trouble of cooking for the smaller gathering of my husband, my mom, myself and Pumpkin. We contemplated going out to a brunch, but in the end, I decided to make the feast.

Last Saturday, the Pumpkin and I went down to the Yonkers Miasarnia on Lockwood Avenue and bought a WHOLE Polish ham and a kielbasa as well as a poppy-seed coffee cake and a babka. That night, we dyed Easter eggs and I baked the cake part of our annual bunny cake. (My mom made the boiled frosting the next morning and applied the coconut and licorice whiskers and jellybean eyes.)  I got up early on Easter and got the ham in the oven and peeled and chopped potatoes. I prepped the asparagus for roasting in the oven while the ham rested. Shortly before the ham was ready, I started boiling the sauage for the traditional Barscz, or white Polish Easter soup. It’s a cream soup made with the broth of Polish sausage that I’ve eaten nearly every Easter of my life since childhood. Making it for Pumpkin got me thinking about how tradition-bound we become when we become parents. It’s not Easter for me without Barscz — and it makes me happy to imagine that one day Pumpkin will feel the same way.

Julie’s Barscz

1 loop of traditional kielbasa
3 tablespoons flour
2 eggs, room temperature
1 pint heavy cream
1/4 cup cider vinegar
horseradish to taste
hard-boiled eggs
roasted Polish ham slices

Slice kielbasa into 2-inch pieces and boil until skin starts to pop. Remove from water. Add flour to cold water in a separate cup until it’s smooth. Add to the boiling sausage broth and cook for a few minutes. In a Pyrex cup or similar vessel, place eggs and beat. Start adding broth a few teaspoons at a time, beating all the while in order to “temper” the eggs. The idea is to get them to a warm temperature without cooking or curdling them. Add eggs to broth. Add heavy cream. Bring near a boil, but don’t boil. Add vinegar to taste. Add salt and white pepper to taste. At this point, we were done. We would then slice up the eggs and sausage and ham in a bowl, pour on the Barscz and throw in a dollop of horseradish. Yum! You might, however, opt to add the horseradish to the pot of soup for a less strong flavor. Either way, this is what the final result looks like:

And, to put the passage of time in perspective for us parents, here is Pumpkin’s first Easter and her most recent:

Heck, everybody’s got stress. It’s just that the most stressed people I know happen to be parents in single-parent or blended family situations. So, I figured I would share this story that I came across on the newswire from Woman’s Day magazine.

I added the emphasis in the text below for effect. I mean, we certainly don’t have a monopoly on stress. My colleague and friend, Noreen O’Donnell, says she’s written on this, and that there’s a direct correlation between stress and the amount of control you have in your life — not necessarily the number of stressors you have to grapple with.

Fair enough. But it seems to me that parents have additional worries — and are more likely to feel less in control — than your average citizen. More so for single or divorced parents, who have that and more stressors to boot. That’s just me.

But see what you think:

From the editors of Woman’s Day magazine
According to the annual Stress in America report from the American Psychological Association, extreme stress strikes a third of Americans regularly, with one in five getting hit a whopping 15 days out of the month.
Of course, there’s the everyday anxiety that’s caused by a looming work deadline or too-busy schedule, and then there’s the big-time stress that comes with a major life-changing event — like divorce or dealing with a chronic illness. Coping with both requires similar techniques and habits. Woman’s Day magazine outlines a plan that will reduce stress in your life now — and help you prep for the big stuff later.
• Pinpoint your biggest stressor: Go through a day or two with a pen and paper handy, and jot down everything that stresses you out as it happens. OR sit back (when you’re relaxed) and visualize your typical day; make a list of all the things you dread doing. Part of what gets people about stress is that it feels uncontrollable. When you get specific and have a concrete list, life starts to feel manageable. Decide what really gets your adrenaline going, and focus on changing that first.
• Cut back on one thing: If your issue is that you’ve got too much to do around the house between the cooking, cleaning, taking caring of the dog, and shuttling kids to school and activities, choose one night (or two or three) that you’ll order dinner out or pick up a prepared meal at the grocery store. In many cases, being overscheduled is the culprit so figure out what you can say no to.
• Prioritize: Make a list of what has to be done by this morning, the end of the day and the end of the week. Focus on what needs to be finished fist, then move down the list. Often what makes us panic is the big picture – not the three things we have to get done by today, but the 17 things we have to do by the end of the week.
With four steps down you can make these anti-stress moves part of your everyday schedule.
• Move: Regular daily exercise can lower levels of stress hormones
• Pop on headphones: Any music lover knows that listening to your favorite tunes can make you less tense almost immediately
• Chat on the phone with a friend: It keeps your social bonds strong, which gives you an overall feeling of support and belonging.
• Take a deep belly breath: Abdominal breathing increases the amount of oxygen in your blood, triggering the brain to decrease the concentration of stress hormones.

I knew it would start sooner or later. It still stinks.

On Wednesday, I drove my son to school and, as is our norm, I parked in the lot and we walked into the building together. This has been something of a routine when he’s with me that we’ve done since pre-K, through various school buildings. In past, we’ve chatted a bit, joked with each other and I’ve waited with him until the bell rang and he had to get to class.

This time, he walked in ahead of me, and started talking to some friends, seemingly oblivious to my presence. I called out to him, he looked, I said, “bye?” He replied by sheepishly giving an unenthusiastic wave, clearly embarrassed. So I left, heart wounded.

I’ve always known there would come a time when he’d not want to have his dad there when he was with friends. I figured it out early on, in kindergarten, when he first asked me not to hug him goodbye in front of his classmates. I understood.

But somehow this got to me a bit. Probably that’s because it’s an indication of things to come, the years ahead when he will spend more and more time out with friends than at home playing X-Box or watching a movie with is dad, or out at the park playing ball or sled riding in the winter with his old man.

Obviously, it has to be that way, and it should be that way.

But for now, it just stinks.