How many shared-custody situations are out there where the child prefers one parent’s home to the other because “it’s more fun?” Particularly for younger children, this usually means that one parent’s home is all about play and the other involves actual parenting — rules and restrictions and doctor visits and doing homework.

I can think of several single- and divorced-parent situations where this is the case. In one friend’s case, the dad’s house has tons of toys and the child is routinely treated to milk shakes, donuts and sweets, and is allowed to fall asleep on the couch watching TV. Because the dad routinely has the child on weekends, there are few situations where the child has to be woken up early, dressed and prepared for school. The child gets up when the child gets up, and then it’s usually a day of fun in the sun.

Then there’s the mom. She has to get the child to school, has to be more conscious of dietary needs and is constantly trying to include vegetables and protein in meals. There are plenty of toys and play time, but with school, doctor visits and other utilitarian tasks built in, it pales in comparison to the nearly limitless play time at dad’s house. The end result is the parent trying to do the right thing for the child is the “less fun” parent, and has to regularly hear her child ask to go to daddy’s house.

She’s not alone. Another friend’s teenagers see their dad’s house as a refuge and a “safe place” when the mom tries to set curfews and limits on this or that. She’s forced to instill discipline. The end result is that one of her teens finally moved in with dad, who has provided little financial support for his children’s needs and close to no emotional support. The teen now lives with few rules.

And this is gender neutral. I’m highlighting two of the situations I know of personally, but I — of all people — don’t want to sound like I’m beating up the dads. I had friends in a single-parents group I once belonged to who were dads in similar situations. One dad who lives in the Carolinas was raising his children almost entirely on his own, carting them to school, tutors and the doctor while constantly hearing from them how mom never made them do these things. The mom primarily showed up to blame the dad when there was a problem at school. He, like my two other friends, have been forced to do the hardest thing of all: Keep quiet. They refuse, to their credit, to set the record straight for the children. They refuse to put the kids in the middle. They shouldn’t.

But what does one tell a parent in that situation? My advice has been to keep doing the right thing and ultimately the child will appreciate it — or at least one can hope so. The pessimist in me realizes that poetic justice only happens in plays and novels, not in real life. My more optimistic side clings to the notion that good intentions and actions are ultimately rewarded, if not with appreciation then certainly with the satisfaction of knowing you made your child a better and healthier person in the end.

Because it would just be nice to know that it’s a game where there are no real losers.

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.

Sunday night, my husband and I spent about four hours at the emergency room of Northern Westchester Hospital in Mount Kisco to rule out appendicitis as the cause of the severe abdominal pains he had been experiencing. (He’s OK. Just sick.) We were there from about 9:45 p.m. until about 2 a.m., thankfully without the Pumpkin. That’s because when we spoke to the doctor on the phone, and she told us to go to the emergency room, I called my mom and said, “Can you come?” And, of course, she agreed. My mom moved to this area the year my daughter was born, first living with us while she looked for a place of her own and now renting an apartment. It has been unremittingly wonderful for us. My mom takes care of Pumpkin while I work — which is why I was able to keep my job after my daughter was born. If I hadn’t had my mom, I would have quit because I couldn’t have imagined putting my tiny little preemie in day care. The best part is I have every confidence that Pumpkin is in hands that are almost as loving as mine. The second best part is that my daughter is forming a relationship with her grandmother, not a stranger. But for my mom, there have been significant sacrifices. She left behind friends in Niagara Falls, her bowling league and the city she lived in for 70-plus years. She also left behind an affordable lifestyle. Her rent is double what she would pay in Niagara Falls — and takes almost half of her pension and Social Security every month.

My thankfulness for her presence in my life really came alive last night during the crisis. While I am always grateful when she throws a load of my laundry in the wash, it’s the willingness of a parent to drop everything and come running that makes them so special. I feel for the families who don’t have extended family nearby. Imagine a 3-year-old spending four hours plus in an ER? Yikes. But if my mom were still living in Niagara Falls, we would have had no choice but to bring Pumpkin. It must be even more challenging for single parents without family nearby. What if you are the patient? How can you expect the ER nurse to be a babysitter?

I’d like to invite Parents’ Place readers to share their own stories of events where your parents helped you out of a crisis — and to share how you coped if your mom and dad don’t live nearby or aren’t with you any longer.

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?

One of the advantages of having shared custody of your child is that there’s a limit to the number torturous school assignments you have to do for the kid. Obviously, my ex ends up with half of them because of our 50-50 custody deal.

And I don’t mean arts & crafts for art projects, or books to complete assignments, or visits to museums or zoos to complete written research projects. Those are concrete tasks that you can justify as advancing your child’s education and creativity.

But what’s the educational benefit to cooking three pounds of bacon?

I’m talking about the extra-curricular events like class picnics and holiday celebrations. You know, when your child comes home and tells you he volunteered to make six dozen blintzes, or hard boil 96 eggs, or cook french fries for 40 kids and teachers. A co-worker told me this morning that his daughter committed him and his wife to make fruit salad for 30 kids. She neglected to mention this until this morning, the day of the event. So take a swing by Super Stop & Shop and look for a mom frantically buying up all the fruit.

On my end, my 10-year-old volunteered to cook bacon for the class breakfast today. I’ll give him credit for telling me three days ago, so there was no last-minute shopping. Of course, I made it clear that blueberry muffins or orange juice would’ve been preferred. But the kid likes bacon. And that’s a good thing, because he’ll be smelling it around the house for weeks to come.

Don’t get me wrong: My ex has shouldered her share of these tasks since our divorce. It’s just that the time-intensive — and smelly — ones always seem to land on the days our son is with me. And the thing is there’s more to come, because my girlfriend’s 4-year-old will have to cook up his own batch of bacon sooner or later. Ah, parenting.

But such are the pleasures of a blended family. And it does make us a family, with all the annoyances, burdens and hurdles that come with any family. And that makes it seem less torturous, even if there are a few pounds of bacon here and there.

 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

I really don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I’m hoping I turned a corner with my girlfriend’s son. I think it’s the kind of thing any single dad in a new blended family looks for. At least my fingers are crossed.
Let me back up. Father’s Day brought all the expected rewards for me this year: I spent the day with my son, including a movie, a trail hike in the woods and a pretty lengthy X-Box session. Then the three of us went out to a nice steak dinner. My son also presented me with his present, which is a portable leather-bound notebook that I can use for work. He decorated it with some very clever arts & crafts, which will make it a keepsake I will never want to part with. The only thing missing was the presence of my girlfriend’s 4-year-old son, who, and rightfully so, spent the day and night with his dad.

The breakthrough for came with my girlfriend’s little boy. At the end of last week, he shyly presented me with a drawing he did at day care, which consisted of his hand print in blue on a sheet of paper. He also took a pen and tried to write his name for me, and presented it as my Father’s Day present from him. I was blown over.

Then, his dad called us over the weekend to let us know that his son had presented him with a “monkey” that he made in school for Father’s Day. He said, however, that the boy actually made two presents — one for me and one for his dad. Wow.

The significance for me should be obvious. The most important — and hardest — thing for a single parent going into a blended family situation is his or her relationship with their partner’s child or children. For us, it’s been progressing: My son genuinely likes my girlfriend and recently expressed to me, after she and I had a disagreement, that he wanted us all to stay together. It’s not something we contemplated, but I appreciated that he expressed the emotion. It meant quite a bit to both of us.

With her son, it’s been a big more tenuous. He’s younger and still confused by the dual roles that his dad and I play in his life. He understands I’m a dad to my son, and that I’m in a parenting role with him. I have never sought to replace his dad, of course. But it is important that he ultimately understand the nurturing and supportive — and occasionally disciplinary — role that I do and will continue to play in his life. That’s why his gesture on Father’s Day means the world to me.

So, I have no idea what this “monkey” present is, but I imagine it will be one of the most wonderful things I’ll see for some time. The hand-print drawing he made me is already on the fridge, alongside the many projects he’s given his mom, and that my son has given me. The “Green Day” fridge magnets my girlfriend gave my son last year are also there. The “monkey” will have a prominent place on our shelf, just as I will proudly use the leather-bound notebook my son presented me with.

As I said, I don’t want to get ahead of myself. But I’m feeling more and more like part of a family.

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?

Is it that time of year already?

Seems to me that every year my ex and I do this vacation juggling act with our son: Who gets him which week, who has to compromise their plans, who put in for a particular week first, and so on and so on. Frankly, it’s when our amicable custodial agreement is most tested.

This year, my girlfriend and I have plans to head south to spend a week at a beach resort with our two boys, although our departure is delayed one day because of a scheduling conflict with my ex. My ex, meanwhile, has to interrupt her week away to drive back and drop my son off for my scheduled weekend with him. Well, it happens. We’ll work around it. The real tricky part comes with the bartering for weekends. It’s inevitable that we have to swap our weekends for this or that three-day getaway: I want to fly out and see my brother and my nephews on her weekend; she wants to extend her vacation by keeping our son over my weekend.

Let the negotiations begin!

We always end up working it out, and have somehow managed to keep our post-divorce friendship intact. But it leaves me wondering if there isn’t a system we could put into play, or some process that would make this whole juggling act function more smoothly in years to come, particularly as it’s not just the two of us that are affected by our scheduling: There’s her husband and his son, and my girlfriend and her little boy — our blended family. Everyone is potentially inconvenienced if it tips the wrong way.

So, does anyone have a fool-proof formula for this stuff?

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?

One of the things that my divorce has accomplished for me is that it has created a very close bond with my son. That’s not to say he’s not equally attached to his mother. But, basically, we had a lot of time together when he was with me. I think that’s the nature of the circumstances that he was hurled into.

That’s kind of why I was intrigued when I came across an article in Science Daily about a study out of Penn State. The study suggests that divorce widens the gap between fathers and their children, compared to mothers. I think that says quite a bit about custodial outcomes from divorces, and the fact that mothers are predominantly named the custodial parent.

But one of the more striking findings was that, prior to divorce, 71 percent of the youngsters interviewed for the study reported being very close to their mothers, but only 57 percent said they were very close to their fathers. So I wonder, do fathers who develop a close relationship with their children before a divorce do a better job of keeping that alive after a divorce? Or is it out of our hands?

At least I’m saying so up front, which has to count for something.

Anyway, I did indeed steal this blog entry from one of my favorite single-parent bloggers, Rachel Sarah, who does the singlemomseeking blog. In a recent post, Rachel spoke with former Top Chef contestant Camille Becerra, a single mom who was bounced from the hit cooking show during last season.

Rachel’s blog post reveals that Becerra had to give up all contact with her daughter throughout her time on the show, including the little girl’s birthday. That’s an interesting proposition. So, as Rachel asks, is that something you’d be willing to do?

The more I search, the more I find.

As in more single-parenting websites. This is a particularly good one from David Mott, a West Coast dad who runs the Dad’s House blog. David is a divorced dad with half-time custody, and addresses everything from solo parenting to the single-parent dating scene and all the issues in between.

He tells me that his goal is to tell the world “that single fathers are perfectly capable of caring for children and running a household solo.” He concedes that his half-custody situation puts him in a different role than solo moms or single parents with full-time custody. But there is plenty of common ground in terms of dating, relationships and parenting concerns. He hits on all those and posts regularly.

“I’m sharing stories and opinions on online dating,” he said. “Also how to deal with things like the general lack of acceptance of a single dad by married couples, and things to do with your alone time. Interestingly enough, my blog has already opened some eyes to married readers who are now re-evaluating the father’s role in a household that has both parents. I’m all for men being more present with their children.”

I’m trying to be selective in the sites I add to my blogroll, and didn’t hesitate adding Dad’s House. The stories are always honest, often funny and consistently useful. And if you noticed, David has already begun providing his input on my posts here, which is valuable to the discussions we engage in.

As I like to say, check it out.

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?

Somebody’s got to stay home with the kid, right? That’s logical enough. But who misses a day of work?

A study last year by sociologist David Maume at the University of Cincinnati determined that moms are still significantly more likely to stay home than dads. Maume surveyed more than 1,400 parents and determined that 78% of women reported taking time off to stay home with a sick kid, compared to 28% for men. You can read more about the study in Science Daily.

The thing is that the study seems to have looked only at traditional homes, with mom and dad in the house. How does one handle the situation when they’re a single or divorced parent? Needless to say, this is a major problem if you solo parent. Unless there’s family nearby or a support group of some sort, you’re in a bind. And what are the rules on this in a blended family?

This has been on my mind this week because my girlfriend’s little boy has been battling the flu and hasn’t been able to go to his day care. She missed a couple of days, and her ex missed a couple and took him to his sister’s house for the day. Statistically, she ultimately takes more of those days on than her ex does, which seems to fit Maume’s study.

But at some point I wonder what my role is. I normally save my days off for when my son is sick, and juggle those with my ex. Is it my role as a stepparent figure to take off as well when my girlfriend’s son is sick? Or is that a responsibility that falls squarely  — and exclusively — on the little guy’s parents?

In the end I’m thinking gender isn’t all we should be looking at. Frankly, I’m thinking we need a new study.