ParentDishhttp://www.parentdish.comParentDishhttp://www.parentdish.com/media/feedlogo.gifParentDishhttp://www.parentdish.comen-usCopyright 2012 Weblogs, Inc. The contents of this feed are available for non-commercial use only.Blogsmith http://www.blogsmith.com/Becoming a Stepmother from Marlo Thomashttp://www.parentdish.com/2011/05/17/becoming-a-stepmother/http://www.parentdish.com/2011/05/17/becoming-a-stepmother/http://www.parentdish.com/2011/05/17/becoming-a-stepmother/#commentsFiled under: , ,

When I realized I was going to have the title of "stepmother," I thought, "Oh, no, I don't want to be one of those!" In fairy tales and children's stories, stepmothers are usually villains. I had to figure out how to be a nice one, a good one. The first step was becoming a true and trusted friend; the rest followed.




Auntie Marlo and Kate: Stepmotherhood
My niece Kate and I bring together women from each of our respective age groups to explore how different generations look at different issues. The topic of this segment is stepmotherhood.
Watch the video

Becoming a Happier Stepmother
It's not always easy to be a stepmom - I know that myself from experience! - but it has some wonderful rewards as well. I asked psychotherapist (and stepmom) Rachelle Katz if she had any tips for stepmothers. Rachelle had some great advice - read her tips, then share your own! (And if you're a stepdad or stepchild, chime in here with your own comments, too).
Read the article

Understanding Your Stepchildren (They're "Younger" Than You Think)
When I got married, I went from being single, with no kids, to being a stepmother with five children. We all survived it, and learned to thrive, and today I'm very close to them (and their own children). But I know the relationship between a new wife and her husband's children can be a difficult one to forge. I asked Rachelle Katz - psychotherapist, stepmom, and author of The Happy Stepmother - if she had any advice, and of course she did!
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]]>the editors at MarloThomas.comTue, 17 May 2011 11:30:00 ESTOpinion: Parents of Austic Children Have More to Celebrate Than Mournhttp://www.parentdish.com/2011/05/12/opinion-parents-of-austic-children/http://www.parentdish.com/2011/05/12/opinion-parents-of-austic-children/http://www.parentdish.com/2011/05/12/opinion-parents-of-austic-children/#commentsFiled under: , ,

No matter how you slice it, it's a stressful job, and the hours stink. But the rewards? Phenomenal. Credit: Getty Images

I am the single father of an autistic teenager.

And I mean single. I am all alone here.

My son's mother lives 400 miles away and rarely sees him. I have not sought or received so much as a dime of child support, even though I am pushing 50 and am still hanging by a thread on an income that ...

Well, just don't major in journalism, kids.

Am I whining? Am I complaining? No, but maybe I should. It seems to be all the rage these days.

I just finished reporting a story about how parents of autistic kids make less money. Oh, it's horrible. Mothers apparently suffer the most. Fathers, as we all know, are insensitive louts who don't give two good hoots about their kids -- especially if they're "damaged."

So it falls to Mom to take lower-paying, more flexible jobs so she can act as a case manager for her disabled child.

Boo hoo.

If that's your sob story, you came to the wrong single father for sympathy. I feel increasingly cold toward fellow parents complaining about the trials and tribulations of having autistic children.

I feel toward them the way I did when I was a newspaper editor, and young reporters whined to me about their long hours and low pay. No one lied to them in the brochure. They knew going in that journalism was a hard-knock life.

The same is true of parenting. No matter how you slice it, it's a stressful job, and the hours stink. So does the pay. There's a reason childless couples are off exploring the fjords of Norway while you stay up nights worrying about how you're going to pay for your kid's braces.

That's true whether or your child has autism or not. Autism just adds a whole other level of stress.

However, the rewards of parenting are phenomenal. I love having an autistic son. I love that he geeks out about trains, road maps and World War II history. I love that he can repeat almost every line from every TV show and movie he has ever seen. Yes, it makes him different. But different is good.

In fact, in our bland vanilla world where so many people seem to be sleepwalking through life, different is fantastic.

My son has a high-functioning form of autism, so I may have it easier than a lot of parents. Then again, a lot of parents have the day-to-day support of a spouse and higher incomes. Bottom line: We all have problems.

I just wish we could all learn to enjoy what we have instead of whining so much about what we don't have. Autism is not necessarily a bad thing. It's just a thing.

I have a great life, career and son.

Logistics and life circumstances may keep my ex-wife at a distance, but my son knows his mother loves him. So do I. She and I didn't break up because of what writers perpetually call the "grim toll" autism takes on families. It just happened, like it happens in some 50 percent of marriages.

That's the point, I guess. Life just happens. Some of it's good. Some of it's not so good. It mostly depends on how you choose to respond to it.

Autistic children are not conditions to be managed and treated or problems to be endured. They are people to be understood -- and celebrated.

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]]>autismautistic kidsparents of autistic childrensingle parentsTom HendersonThu, 12 May 2011 16:00:00 ESTTemper Tantrums: Mama Don't Play That Gamehttp://www.parentdish.com/2011/03/04/temper-tantrums/http://www.parentdish.com/2011/03/04/temper-tantrums/http://www.parentdish.com/2011/03/04/temper-tantrums/#commentsFiled under: , ,

kids temper tantrums

When temper tantrums hit, this mom doesn't back down. Illustration by Dori Hartley




It's one of those mornings. I try not to take them personally.

There's no rhyme or reason to it. Daughter #2 had gone to bed at a sensible 8:15 the night before. She'd slept through the night. I'd set out her school clothes for her at the foot of her bed, within easy reach.

I wake up both daughters as usual (gently and cheerfully! half-Mary Poppins, half-Caroline Ingalls!) at 6:40 a.m.. Daughter #1 climbs out of bed to ferret out the perfect pair of jeggings from a tangle of clothes in her closet.

Daughter #2 ignores me. This is not a good omen. I pop my head through her doorway. I ask her pointedly to please get dressed, use the bathroom, brush her teeth and come down for breakfast. Odd whimpering and growling commence from under her pillow. I head downstairs to make coffee, pack lunches and release the hounds, hoping Daughter #2 will sort herself out.

I am not sure what it is exactly that flips the switch. But at some terribly unfortunate point between 6:40 and 6:43 a.m., my post-modern Shirley Temple morphs into the full-blown raging spawn of Satan. She refuses to get dressed. She refuses to get out of bed. She refuses to acknowledge the existence of hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste, or toilet. From her room comes monstrous groans and terrifying howls: SHE WOULD NOT, SHE COULD NOT, SHE WOULD NEVER. If I do not wait on her hand and foot, as she demands, getting ready for school is not happening.

These are the times that try single mothers' souls. These are the times when it would be nice to have their father here -- a partner in exhaustion, willing to share responsibility for the creation of the rampaging beast upstairs.

I gulp my coffee like a beer. I sigh. Single Mama don't play this game.

I return to The Den of Fury. I tell Demon Spawn that she has exactly 40 minutes to get her shiz together and show some serious respect for her sister and me. I tell her we are not going to make her sister late for school, under any circumstance. I tell her if she does not get dressed, I will be taking her to school in her PJs -- end of story.

Forty ear-splitting, wall-pounding, bed-thrashing minutes pass. I nearly grind my molars into splinters, trying to maintain my Caroline Cool. The dogs cower under the dining room table. The cats take cover behind the couch.

Reasoning does not work. Scolding does not work.

There is no negotiating with a first-grade terrorist. One must be prepared to make a spectacle.

7:40: Time to leave. Daughter #1 gathers up her things and waits by the front door, mute. The siblings of Demon Spawn must also be prepared to sacrifice dignity if they are to get to school on time.

7:45: Now I am forced to take action. I gather up my PJ-wearing, shrieking 7-year-old. She has transformed into an invertebrate, which now makes it impossible to put her coat on over her PJs. Fine. Coat, clothing, shoes: I stuff them all into a plastic bag. I wedge Demon Spawn under my left arm, and carry her bag of belongings in my other arm. We three head down the hill to the car, in the chill winter air. Two neighbors glance our way, alarmed. I smile as if this is perfectly normal morning behavior for our family. Daughter #1 is grim, but quietly impressed. Daughter #2 thrashes and shrieks from where she is clamped in my armpit. "I'M COLD I'M COLD YOU'RE MEAN I'M COOOOOLD!"

In the car, the Patron Saint of Seatbelts takes pity on us and heeds my prayers. Miraculously, we are all belted in and on our way.

"I WANT TO HAVE MY PLAYDATES!" yells Daughter #2, then, knowing full well I am just about to tell her the week's playdates have been revoked.

"NOT HAPPENING," I say. "NO PLAYDATES THIS WEEK. UH-UH. NO WAY, HO-ZAY."

Daughter #2 spazzes, ad nauseum. In the rearview mirror, Daughter #1 smirks with something resembling vindication.

At school, before hopping out of the car, Daughter #1 whispers into my ear with great awe: "Can I tell my class about this morning?"

"Sure," I say. "This was the equivalent of walking three miles to school in the snow. Go for it."

When Daughter #2 and I pull up in front of the Lower School, she is no longer spazzing but sniffling. She meekly pulls on pants and a coat. We hold hands and head to her classroom.

I ask her first-grade teacher if we can have a word with her in the hallway. I am that mean. Daughter #2 stares at me, horrified. She adores her teacher.

"Miss C.," I say. "H has made some unfortunate choices this morning. If she continues making unfortunate choices, please let me know, because there will have to be further consequences."

I may love her first-grade teacher even more than she does. Miss C. gets it.

"Oh, dear," says Miss C. "I'm sorry to hear that. But I'm sure H is going to make good choices today. Right, H?"

H nods. She looks like she's been through a war. Her hair is pure tumbleweed. She is wearing a bedraggled PJ top with her leggings. She has had no breakfast. My heart aches for her. She doesn't want to be in that headspace any more than I want her to be.

It's hard, being 7. But I don't know what to do other than be her wall, sometimes. If I'm not saying, 'Uh-uh, no way,' who will?

I hug her goodbye. I tell her I know it's been a rough morning, and I love her very much. I tell her we can start over later. I tell her I am hard on her, sometimes, because I know she can do better.

She hugs me back tightly, a smile lighting up her elfin face again. We shake on the promise of a better afternoon, a better week.

We're all still learning.

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]]>single motherhoodSingleMotherhoodtemper tantrumsTemperTantrumsJennifer MatternFri, 04 Mar 2011 11:00:00 ESTMost Americans Believe Single Motherhood Is Bad for Society, Survey Findshttp://www.parentdish.com/2011/02/17/single-motherhood/http://www.parentdish.com/2011/02/17/single-motherhood/http://www.parentdish.com/2011/02/17/single-motherhood/#commentsFiled under: ,

single motherhood

Single mom? You're being judged. Credit: Corbis

If you're a single mother struggling to raise kids on your own, here's another challenge to add to your list: Most Americans disapprove of your lifestyle.

Although there is a growing acceptance or tolerance of same-sex and unmarried couples raising children, most Americans still believe single motherhood is outright "bad for society," according to results of a survey released this week by the Pew Research Center's Social and Demographic Trends.


But despite the attitude toward single parents, census statistics show nuclear families today account for barely one in five U.S. households, while the National Center for Health Statistics reports nearly four in 10 births are to unmarried women, the Washington Post reports.

"People aren't embracing these changes, but they are accepting them," Rich Morin, a senior editor at the Pew Center and author of the report, tells the Post. "The days when people were made to wear a scarlet letter or were shunned after a divorce are ancient history."

The survey asked a nationally representative sample of 2,691 adults whether they considered the following seven trends in modern family structure to be good, bad or of no consequence to society:
  • More unmarried couples raising children
  • More gay and lesbian couples raising children
  • More single women having children without a male partner to help raise them
  • More people living together without marrying
  • More mothers of young children working outside the home
  • More people of different races marrying each other
  • More women never having children
When the results were tallied, survey respondents were split pretty evenly into thirds: "Accepters" (31 percent), "Rejecters" (32 percent) and "Skeptics" (37 percent).

The most striking difference between the three groups occurs in their reported attitudes toward single motherhood. Virtually all of the skeptics (99 percent) say the trend is bad for society, while nearly 90 percent of accepters say the increase in single women having children has made no difference or is a good thing for society, according to the survey.

The difference between skeptics and accepters on their views of single motherhood is so great that the two groups would merge into one if that question were removed from the survey, the authors report.

Overall, the three groups of respondents are split as follows:

  • One-half to two-thirds of the accepters say the seven trends make no difference to society; but, of the remainder, more say most of the trends are good, rather than bad. This group is most likely to include women, Hispanics, East Coast residents and adults who seldom or never attend religious services.
  • The rejecters, a similarly-sized group, reject nearly every trend the accepters tolerate or approve of. A majority say five out of the seven changes are bad for society, accepting only interracial marriage and few women having children. They are also the only group in which a majority says it's harmful for mothers of young children to work outside the home. This group is overwhelmingly comprised of whites, older adults, Republicans, the religiously observant and married adults.
  • The skeptics, a somewhat larger group, share most of the tolerant views of the accepters, but also express concern about how these trends impact society. However, nearly all of these respondents say single motherhood is bad for society -- vs. only 2 percent of accepters who feel this way. However, most say the six other trends make no difference or are good for society. This group is mostly comprised of young people, Democrats and political independents and minorities.
Andrew Cherlin, a Johns Hopkins University sociologist who studies families, tells the Post the poll underscores the widespread acceptance of nearly all types of two-parent families.

"Working mothers are acceptable to almost everybody," Cherlin says. "Two parents who are unmarried are tolerated or acceptable. But many people, including single parents themselves, question single-parent families. There's still a strong belief that children need two parents."

But Cherlin suggests that, for many Americans, this opinion is rooted in practical, not moral, concerns.

"They're concerned about the economic problems of single mothers, and the amount of effort it takes to be a good parent. People aren't anti-single mother as much as they are pro-two parents," he concludes.

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]]>pew research centerPewResearchCenterpollresearchsingle motherhoodsingle mothersSingleMotherhoodSingleMotherssurveyHoney BerkThu, 17 Feb 2011 14:25:00 ESTGreater Than or Less Than? Dating as a Single Motherhttp://www.parentdish.com/2011/02/11/dating-single-mother/http://www.parentdish.com/2011/02/11/dating-single-mother/http://www.parentdish.com/2011/02/11/dating-single-mother/#commentsFiled under: , ,

dating single mother

When you're dating as a single mother, it's about the kids, too. Illustration by Dori Hartley




I'm not dating anyone right now.

More often than not in my life, there's been someone. And I'm grateful for that.

I don't buy the concept that being in a relationship subtracts from one's development as an individual. I bristle at the self-help variety of suggestion that serial monogamy is pathological, a clear sign of someone who can't stand on his or her own two feet. Much of who I am comes from the wisdom -- often painful, but just as often beautiful -- gleaned from my relationships. I've learned what I can handle and what I can't. I've learned about boundaries, about drawing lines in the sand. The lessons have frequently been brutal, but they've also been necessary.

"Maybe you just need time on your own right now," a couple of married-for-years acquaintances suggested recently -- as if their status of "married" rendered them exempt from scrutiny, as if "married" means they've gotten it "right." I try to steer clear of the smug marrieds, who believe they've found the perfect balance of self and other, which authorizes them to assess the unfortunate singles of the world and their relationship choices.

I like down-to-earth married folks, the ones who 'fess up to the hard work of union. It's no picnic. I know. I've been there. And because of it, I know better what I have to offer, and what I need in another person.

I was dating someone until just very recently. It was a serious relationship, as serious as I'd allowed myself to get since my marriage. He's a good man, but I had fears that would not subside. My gut refused to let my brain run circles around it this time. My concerns were valid, my gut insisted. My concerns were growing, not lessening, over time. Although my brain came up with no less than 50 different reasons why I should stick with the relationship, my intuition finally sat down with a big red flag and refused to budge.

If there's one thing I've learned from my relationships, it's that ignoring my intuition is a slippery slope. It becomes a bad, bad habit. Intuition doesn't suffer fools lightly. When I turn away from what I know and try to talk myself into a different reality -- one that would be "easier" for others, one that I persuade myself I could figure out how to accept, if only I tried "harder" -- it only prolongs the inevitable. It makes for a nasty, snarled mess in the long run, hurting everyone involved all the more.

There is something to be said for dating as a single mother of two young daughters. In the B.C. (Before Children) era, I could skirt my intuition more easily -- give it the slip, for a while. "I can make this work." "This isn't so bad." "I'm sure he didn't mean it." "We're all flawed."

It's not that these statements aren't true. The question is merely this: Proceed in this relationship at what cost?

Before kids, my cost-and-risk-assessment process for any relationship was murkier, colored in shades of gray. After all, I would be the only one paying the price, I figured. I could cheat intuition, if I needed to. There was wiggle room.

That's no longer the case. Anyone I invite into my life, I'm inviting into my daughters' lives as well.

The other week, as I was wrestling with my intuition over concerns about this relationship -- one I had invested in quite dearly with a man I still care about, very much -- my younger daughter asked for help with her math homework.

I sat down with her at the dining room table, grateful for the distraction. She was laboring over a worksheet with familiar symbols: greater than or less than.

Ah.

I realized at that instant that if I ignored my gut, kept swallowing my fears, trying to explain them away, I would be Less Than. Less of a woman. Less of a mother. Less of everything I wanted to teach my daughters about self-worth, and always trusting their instincts.

Less than.

Finally, it was simple. Not easy, but simple.

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]]>datingdivorcerelationshipssingle parent datingSingleParentDatingJennifer MatternFri, 11 Feb 2011 11:00:00 ESTBlinging the Tree, Girl Stylehttp://www.parentdish.com/2010/12/22/blinging-the-tree-girl-style/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/12/22/blinging-the-tree-girl-style/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/12/22/blinging-the-tree-girl-style/#commentsFiled under: , ,

Illustration by Dori Hartley


"We don't have to add more bling to the tree," says my mother.

"Uh, yes, we do," I say. "God gave the world Christmas trees for the express purpose of blinging. It's in Genesis. I'm sure of it."

"It's already blung," says Daughter #2. "It's enough already."

"I still see some bare spots," I say. "Get in there, A-Team! GO, GO, GO! Plastic and wood near the bottom, glass near the top. Where do we put clear ones?"

"IN FRONT OF LIGHTS," drone my well-programmed holiday robots.

"Why do we do that, troops?"

"TO MAXIMIZE SPARKLE."

Good little apprentices. What would Christmas be without Mommy's tree-trimming control issues?

My mother is staring at the tree. She is skeptical. "I really don't think it needs any more."

I haul out another box of ornaments and hand it to her. "Get with the program, Elf."

She sighs and sits at the dining room table with the ornaments. She begins dusting them, one by one, although they have been in sealed storage for a year. Polishing the ornaments seems to soothe her, so I let it go.

I stand back and survey the scene. Once, before the divorce, there was a papa bear here, decorating with us. Now, decorating the tree is a girls-only activity. I realize that this is the first year I haven't missed his presence during the procuring of the tree, the stringing of the lights. I am simultaneously man- and woman-of-the-house, and right now, it feels pretty good.

The girls are laughing, cooperating. They joke with my friend Shelly, who's visiting from D.C., and helped us lug home the tree. Although she's Jewish, Shelly loves our Christmas prep.

The dogs and the cats laze nearby, surveying the tree action. Everyone's been fed. The mortgage is paid for another month. We are home and we have each other: family, both chosen and luck of the draw.

We are definitely lucky.

My mother stands, holding a pair of shiny jingle bells.

"These look like KAH-JOANIES," she stage-whispers.

"I think you mean cojones," I say.

"Ka-Joanies. Yes."

"UH-OH. BLANK SPOT ON OUR TREE CANVAS," I yell. "THREE O' CLOCK, RIGHT BY UNCLE JOE'S OLD POPSICLE-STICK STAR."

My elves rush in with bling. "What's a Ka-Joanie?" asks Daughter #1.

Shelly falls off the couch, laughing.

"Um. You know how boys have a-" I gesture downward.

"Jennifer!" My mother narrows her eyes. Daughter #1 is still looking at me quizzically.

"Cojones is the Spanish word for, um, the-"

"JENNIFER!"

"-let's just say it's the word for ... the boy parts directly behind the boy parts. Kind of."

"Oh." Daughter #1 is neither impressed, nor traumatized. My mother, however, is traumatized.

"HONESTLY, Jennifer," she hisses.

"You brought up the Ka-Joanies. Not me. I was busy blinging."

"Blunging," shouts Daughter #2.

"That's not a word," retorts Daughter #1.

"Yes it is. We blunged it up. We blunged up the tree." Daughter #2 pumps her fist at the evergreen in victory. She knows what she knows.

I know what I know. I love these women, old and young. We have girl Ka-Joanies. And each other.

Best Christmas gift of all.

For more fun at the Matterns, watch Jennifer and her mom jam it up, Christmas carol style.

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]]>divorcesingle parentingsingle parentsSingleParentingSingleParentsJennifer MatternWed, 22 Dec 2010 09:00:00 ESTWhat, We're Poor?http://www.parentdish.com/2010/12/20/what-were-poor/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/12/20/what-were-poor/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/12/20/what-were-poor/#commentsFiled under: , ,

Grocery shopping picture

Illustration by Dori Hartley


"Are you poor?"

One of my daughter's schoolmates recently asked her this question. Still thwacking about in my brain, the question is doing collateral damage, as I scurry around the supermarket.

Post-divorce, I find grocery shopping excruciating. I preferred the old days of shopping for four. I liked being a nuclear family. I admit it. One menu plan. Now I create two menus in my head: an inexpensive-but-healthy-enough menu for the weeks the girls are with me; a cheaper, bachelorette-style menu for the weeks I am alone.

The sinister juice box aisle awaits me. I tend to weep in the juice-box aisle. I don't know why. But the girls like juice boxes. Everybody at school has juice boxes. Juice boxes make them feel normal, average. We all like to feel normal, average, once in a while.

The juice box aisle is also the sale aisle -- another reason I must traverse this treacherous row. Fifty-cent boxes of pasta. Dollar bottles of shampoo. Generic mac-and-cheese, six boxes for $2. A steal, really.

Someone is crooning, "I'll have a bluuuuuuuue Christmas without yoooooooouuuuu" over the supermarket speakers. Loudly. I wince. Christmas gifts. Crap.

"It's the beginning of the Just Kill Me Now season," I joke to a woman standing next to me in front of the discounted salad dressings.

She squints at me over her cart, unsmiling, then walks away.

Are you poor?

Heck, yes.

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We fall below the poverty line by any study's definition of "poverty line" in the U.S. We are an unexpected statistic, living precariously on the fringes of a fairly affluent, if rural, area. Few people know the details of our situation -- just the basics, which are, admittedly, doozies. Bankruptcy. Divorce. Serious medical issues. Layoffs. Unemployment. Government assistance. Shared custody. There's no quick fix, no matter how I try to MacGyver it. There's no fast track to a bank account with four (or, dare I dream, five?) digits. I can't just pack up my girls and head to a big city, stat. Change is going to take some time here.

Ironically, my ex and I are going to have to learn to communicate better than we ever did, if positive change is going to happen in our separate lives. Funny how kids of broken families have a way of making their disconnected parents into better people.

I believe poverty is the last great American taboo. It sure isn't the sort of thing one tweets about to friends, or "Likes" on Facebook. We use euphemisms consistently: A little strapped. Need to tighten our belts. Here in the U.S., our culture is still churning out lyrics from the classic American dream: You can be a success if you just want it badly enough! Pull yourself up by your bootstraps! Go back to school! Take any job! Get on TV! Write a children's book!

I'm not saying those things aren't helpful for some folks. Jamie Lee Curtis and Madonna did very well with their children's books.

From the outside, my situation seems black and white -- dee-vor-SAY, the single mother of two daughters, underemployed. The anonymous comments at my blog are harsh variations of "Poor? Work more!"

These anonymous comments are not usually followed up by job offers, promises of free childcare, student loan repayment, free home repairs, low-interest lines of credit or the gifting of a new Social Security number and squeaky-clean credit report.

I'm moving as fast as I can. But rags-to-riches only happens on TV. I am no express train.

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"Can you believe she asked me that?" my daughter says. "Out of nowhere. Are you poor?"

"What did you say?" I ask.

"I said I didn't know."

"That was a good answer."

"Are we?" She scrutinizes my face. "Are we poor?"

I try to normalize our experience. After all, it is normal. For us.

"We're definitely poorer than most of the families we know in our area, but we're certainly not as bad off as many families across the country or around the world. You and your sister will never have to worry about having a roof over your heads."

"Are you worried?" she asks me.

I don't want to say no. I want her to know her perception is keen, that her intuition is spot-on, that she can trust her gut. In the long run, that's worth more than money. But I don't want to frighten her.

"Do I seem worried?" I ask.

"Yeah. Sometimes," she admits.

"Yeah. I guess I am sometimes. I'm really sorry about that," I tell her. "But trust me when I tell you I'm working hard to figure things out and get us into a better situation. We're going to be okay. We are ... okay enough."

She nods and sinks down in her covers, snuggling up to me.

"I'd like a closet someday," she says. "And a bed that's not a table on wheels. That's all."

"That's all?"

"Maybe ... a room big enough for sleepovers. Maybe."

I can hear the hesitation in her voice. Already, she's afraid to dream too big.

We're okay enough, but not okay, not yet.

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]]>divorcepoor after divorcePoorAfterDivorcesingle parentingSingleParentingJennifer MatternMon, 20 Dec 2010 12:30:00 ESTSingle Parents: How to Create New Holiday Family Traditionshttp://www.parentdish.com/2010/12/13/single-parents-how-to-create-new-holiday-family-traditions/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/12/13/single-parents-how-to-create-new-holiday-family-traditions/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/12/13/single-parents-how-to-create-new-holiday-family-traditions/#commentsFiled under: ,

Kathy and Noreen Kingston picture

Kathy Kingston and her daughter, Noreen, began creating new holiday traditions when Noreen was a toddler. Credit: Kingston family photo

As a single mom, Kathy Kingston says she strives especially hard to create the magic of the holiday season for Noreen, her 15-year-old daughter.

"I feel like the emphasis on family needs to be even stronger for me as a single mom," the Arlington Heights, Ill., special educator tells ParentDish.

Her daughter is a theater buff so her typical gift includes tickets "for two, of course," to the latest musical and dinner in downtown Chicago, along with a trek around the town to soak in the holiday lights and displays, Kingston says. On this year's list: tickets to "Behind the Emerald Curtain." The duo also shops together for a special gift for the family golden retriever, Seamus.

"Spending quality time together doesn't get any better than this," Kingston says. "For me, I think creating family among ourselves and with all our friends and other family members is very important at the holidays."

She is not alone.

According to the Census Bureau, there are about 13.7 million single parents in the United States today, and those parents are responsible for raising 21.8 million children (approximately 26 percent of children under 21 in the country today).

But in the Hallmark card perfect world of holidays, single parents, step families and other nontraditional families seem to be under extra stress and feeling the pressure cooker of "family" expectations.

For many of these parents, traditional holiday celebrations are a thing of the past, and they are trying to create new magical moments of peace and joy that bind their new version of family together. Parents such as Kingston are looking for creative ways to add a new twist to their holiday traditions.

ParentDish asked several single parents to share creative ways they are reinventing the holidays to forge new traditions and magical moments for their offspring.

Improvise. If your kids are spending the actual holiday with their other parent, schedule a celebration of "Rudolph's Birthday" for the day after your children return from their dad's or the other parent's home, Cynthia MacGregor, founder of The SoloParent.com, tells ParentDish.

"Rudolph's birthday is the one birthday party where the guests get all the presents," she says. "Give your children all their presents -- and their Santa gifts if they still believe -- at the Rudolph's birthday party."

Get creative and make it a breakfast party, luncheon or evening celebration for when the kids are back home with you, or before they visit their mom or dad, she says.

Create "yours, mine and ours": Blending faiths requires extra creativity on the holiday reinvention front. After living a single life for most of her adulthood, Marilyn Kleinberg went from living alone to moving in with her boyfriend, his three teenage sons, two dogs and her boyfriend's mother, who lives in an in-law suite attached to their house.

What was even more challenging was blending her Hanukkah traditions with her boyfriend's Christmas celebrations, Kleinberg, the executive managing director for Southern New Jersey-based eWomenNetwork.com, tells ParentDish. To avoid stress and "potential disaster," as she calls it, the group decorates half the home for Christmas, and half for Hanukkah.

"I will be lighting the menorah, they will be getting the tree lights ready," she says.

Gift-giving waits for Christmas Day, but Kleinberg prepares latkes and makes a point of discussing her traditions with the teens, their dad and their grandmother. On Christmas morning, the group heads over to the boy's mom's house; Kleinberg cooks and brings over the breakfast.

Keep it simple: Have a holiday picnic, Elizabeth Lombardo, a counselor who works with divorced parents, tells ParentDish.

"Rather than the traditional meal, one newly-divorced dad decided to make a fire in the fireplace, order some pizzas, put some blankets on the floor and enjoy an indoor picnic with his kids," she says. "Then they rented some holiday classics and watched movies together all night."

Buy a tree: "Buying the Christmas tree has become a huge tradition with my kids and me," Michele Woodward, a Washington, D.C.-area single mom to Munroe, 17, and Grace,14, tells ParentDish. "We always go to the same nursery on the Sunday after Thanksgiving and do the same thing. First, we get a bag of hot, freshly-popped popcorn, which is a nursery holiday staple. Then, we stroll through their display of decorated Christmas trees. Finally, we go out into the brisk cold and examine 20 trees before we finally come to an agreement on the perfect tree. There's a lot of laughing and silliness and it's a ton of fun."

Celebrate magical moments: "Decorating our house together is a tradition we've created," Kingston tells ParentDish. "Tradition dictates that all our treasures will be displayed and Noreen has a much better memory than I do. And, we make a big deal out of picking a gift for our dog, Seamus. He loved the dog bed last year. These are simple moments, but very important."

Be silly and make naughty and nice: The Woodward's have made a tradition of celebrating with a friend, who also is a single mother, and her children at an annual Christmas bash.

"The highlight of the party is the naughty or nice list," Woodward tells ParentDish. "Each guest is given a badge to wear -- 'Nice, 'Naughty' or 'Extremely Naughty,' -- with the list made in advance by the kids. The highlight of the party is the designation of one guest as 'Unspeakably Naughty.' He or she gets presented a loving cup full of grog. This party has been going for six or seven years, and now features a 'Hall of Fame of the Unspeakably Naughty.' "

Play Santa: "One thing I've done for several years is give my children a preloaded gift card with a set amount of money," Woodward says. "From this money, they buy their gifts for others. They make a list and figure out a budget. It's also been a way for them to get me a gift -- 10-year-olds have no access to money. Today, as high schoolers, they look forward to planning their purchases and augment the money I give them with money they've saved from their babysitting or jobs."

Create something: Create new rituals by rediscovering your creative self, says Peggy Nolan, the mother of two, stepmother of four and grandma of one.

She created StepMoms Tool Box to help stepparents navigate the sometimes rugged terrain of stepparenting. Bake cookies, experiment with new recipes, spend an afternoon taking candid photos of your kids and stepkids and create a photo montage of them, she tells ParentDish.

Or, engage in crafts together. Paint, craft, crochet, knit or take an art class in something you've always wanted to learn how to do.

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]]>holiday traditionsholidaysHolidayTraditionssingle parentingsingle parentsSingleParentingSingleParentsMary Beth SammonsMon, 13 Dec 2010 13:00:00 ESTWhen a Parent Runs for Congress, Kids Get Front Row Seat to American Politicshttp://www.parentdish.com/2010/11/10/sean-duffy-congress/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/11/10/sean-duffy-congress/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/11/10/sean-duffy-congress/#commentsFiled under: , ,

rachel sean campos-duffy picture

Courtesy of Rachel Campos-Duffy


On November 2, my husband, Sean Duffy, had the honor of being elected to represent Wisconsin's 7th District in Congress. In a decisive eight-point victory, our northwestern and largely rural district voted for a Republican candidate for the first time in 41 years.

Election night was the culmination of a tremendous amount of work and sacrifice. I can now say with absolutely certitude that unless you've been through it, it's difficult to understand the toll it takes on candidates and their families. It was probably a good thing that we didn't know what was in store for us in the 18 months following my husband's announcement.

As a spouse, the campaign transformed me from a busy-but-happy at-home mother of five to a frazzled and often lonely single mother of six (we discovered we were pregnant three weeks after Sean announced his candidacy and we had our sixth child, Maria Victoria, on April 1). With my best friend and partner crisscrossing one of the largest congressional districts in the country to hit every dairy breakfast, polka Mass, parade and county fair, my workload doubled instantly.

But equally frustrating was the realization that no matter how hard I worked, it was impossible for me to fill the void that Sean's constant absence left on each one of our kids. From family dinners and story time to missed baseball games and an unfinished tree house, there was palpable disappointment whenever dad couldn't do something because of the campaign.

As summer drew near, and campaign "parade season" came into full swing, things improved. Our kids discovered that they could rollerblade the parade routes with dad, passing out campaign literature and throwing candy to the kids in the crowds. With the kids out of school, we did our best whenever possible to include our children so they could feel a part of the experience and get a little more face time with dad.

In the end, despite the sacrifices, I wouldn't change a thing.

Our kids received an invaluable front row seat to American politics. There isn't a civics class that could teach them what they learned and experienced first hand. From retail politics to navigating negative ads against their dad to traveling from county to county in a campaign RV (not to mention stumping with Rudy Giuliani and other political celebrities), our kids understand the work it takes for the privilege of serving in office. Equally important, they know that no candidate wins on his own -- he needs scores of volunteers and supporters to make it happen. In the end, our kids are better and smarter for having gone through this process.

During his victory speech, Sean declared that the first political promise he would keep would be to our kids. It was a promise he made to them during a family meeting when we told them about daddy's plans to run for Congress. And so, three weeks after they entered the polling booth with their mom and dad and watched them cast a vote in an historic election, the eight of us will be traveling to Orlando for a much-deserved Disney World vacation.

Politics has its rewards.

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]]>families campaigningFamiliesCampaigningmidterm electionsMidtermElectionssean duffySeanDuffystay home stay happyStayHomeStayHappyRachel Campos-DuffyWed, 10 Nov 2010 10:26:00 ESTNervous Breakdown? When You're a Single Parent, That's Just Not an Optionhttp://www.parentdish.com/2010/11/09/nervous-breakdown-when-youre-a-single-parent-thats-just-not/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/11/09/nervous-breakdown-when-youre-a-single-parent-thats-just-not/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/11/09/nervous-breakdown-when-youre-a-single-parent-thats-just-not/#commentsFiled under: ,

Illustration by Dori Hartley


My 12-year-old daughter is finally at the age where, if I have to make a quick run to the store, I can leave her alone in the apartment with a modicum of confidence.

She's got her phone, her common sense and plenty of things to keep her occupied. She knows the rules, doesn't answer the door for strangers and resists engaging in wild, drunken parties with the cats. When I leave, I say my "Single Parent Prayer," which sounds something like, "Please don't let me get killed while I'm outside. Or, at least, if I do get killed, let me come back from the dead to protect my child. Thanks."

This parenting plea is just part of who I am now.

Last week, when my girl came down with a tummy virus and needed to stay home, she told me she was worried she'd be penalized for lateness if her homework wasn't in on time. It was still early in the morning, so I offered to run the completed assignment over to the school, along with the doctor's note that would excuse her from class. Before I hit the road, I promised I'd be back in a flash.

That was the plan. And a good plan it was ... until my tire exploded on the highway.

While waiting for roadside assistance to show up, I called my daughter, only to discover her phone was turned off. So, there I was, standing in the pouring rain, stuck on the interstate. I couldn't get in touch with my child, I had no idea how long this was going to take and, at this point, my stress-o-meter was reading way past "cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs."

Good thing I have friends to check in on her. Oh, wait. I don't. All my friends are hundreds of miles away. But that's OK, because I've got family nearby. Oh, wait. I don't. My only family is in California. No prob. I've got coworkers. Oh, wait. I'm a freelance writer; I have one coworker -- my computer.

The only person I could rely upon was myself, and I was soaked, stressed and completely alone. Three hours later, when the guy finally showed up and put the fragile spare tire on my car, he gave me a stern warning: "Don't drive any faster than 40, and get it replaced as soon as possible ... Or else!"

By this point, I was so stressed out and neurotic that I was scared to drive with the spare. I needed to get to the shop, but what about my kid? She had to be wondering where I was.

Finally, she sent me a text: "Mom, there's a bug in the house. Please come home soon and kill it."

Relief. She was alive, and her biggest concern was a bug in the house. I returned her text, telling her I had car trouble and I'd be home ASAP.

I hopped into my meltdown mobile, my mind about three seconds away from snapping, and inched it all the way to the auto repair shop while folks sped past me, honking.

In my trunk sat the shredded tire on a rim, which, I believed, was now garbage. So, on the way, I chucked it in a dumpster. Apparently, throwing one's rim out is a not a good idea, and, to add to my anxiety, I got to be chuckle-material over at the auto shop, where, amidst the laughter, I also could hear the grating chimes of ka-ching.

About four hours later, I returned home. My child? She was fine. And the cats? They hadn't partied too hard. But I know my kid, and as soon as I opened the door, I asked her the $64,000 question: "Where is it?" I might have been Homework Delivering Mom when I left, but now I was The Exterminator.

My daughter looked over at Sugar, our fat and lovely cat, winced, and admitted the bug-killing Tabby had already taken care of business. After a couple of good, deep breaths, I realized that even though it had been a rough day, it was just another day in the life. And although part of me wanted a nice, long, self-indulgent cry, I really didn't want to trip my kid out with my problems.

Still, I couldn't stop the tears from welling up in my eyes. I went to the kitchen to prepare her something to eat, looked at her and said, "Sometimes it's hard being a grownup. And, at times, it's really hard to do it all."

Relieved that I was home, but sad to see me cry, she said, "But, Mom, doesn't it make you happy that you can do it all? You should be proud of yourself for being that strong."

That's the kind of stuff that makes it all worthwhile: the little moments when you realize your child actually acknowledges that you are human.

I've heard people say things like, "This is going to be the death of me" or " I can't do this anymore" or "I'm going to have a nervous breakdown." No, it's not, and yes, you can.

And the whole idea of having a nervous breakdown? That's an indulgence reserved for people who can afford to freak out, people without responsibility, people who don't have a child depending on them for, well, everything.

Balancing the hardships of life and staying somewhat cool for your kids is tough enough, but you have no idea how tough it is until you've walked a wet mile in the shoes of a single parent who has no assistance, no baby-sitters, no after-care or relief plan, no friends in the area and no family member in the vicinity who can simply take over, even for an hour.

Those of us who do it all -- and, believe me, there are plenty of us -- we simply don't have time for nervous breakdowns.

I survived cancer and took care of my child throughout the entire process. I was uprooted from my home and moved to a place where I had no friends or family and I continued to take care of my child, day in and day out. I lost one career and started another. Still, I took care of my girl.

Every single day of my life is spent in work and struggle -- just like everybody else -- but, as a single parent, I'm doing it alone, without help.

I'm doing it to keep my daughter healthy, safe, clothed, educated and fed. Oh, believe me, I would gladly welcome help. I wish I had some crazy huge inheritance or a magic trust fund. As it stands, Ellen DeGeneres hasn't shown up at my door with a new car -- or even a new tire, for that matter. And Oprah Winfrey's never offered to buy me a home. It's just me, doing it all.

But one thing I don't lack for is love -- my heart is covered. I've got lots of love in my house.

So, nervous breakdown? Sorry. Not an option. Not on my watch. And my watch is 24/7.

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]]>single parentingSingleParentingDori HartleyTue, 09 Nov 2010 15:00:00 ESTSnap Judgement: A Holiday Card Photo Dilemmahttp://www.parentdish.com/2010/11/03/snap-judgement-a-holiday-card-photo-dilemma/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/11/03/snap-judgement-a-holiday-card-photo-dilemma/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/11/03/snap-judgement-a-holiday-card-photo-dilemma/#commentsFiled under: , , , , ,

The author, third from left, and his clan win The Happiest Family photo contest in 1957. Credit: Davega Stores

My father was always taking pictures. Still photos, movies, he had to have all the latest equipment. We were always being posed for just one more shot. Going through his boxes not long after he died, I found a reel of Super-8 millimeter sound film he'd taken of my bar mitzvah. Well, not my real bar mitzvah (no cameras in the temple, please) but a recreation of it in our basement.

When I married Leslie in 1988, I inherited the role of family photographer. Meaning, among other things, that, like my father, I'm missing from most of our family photographs.

The dust-covered boxes of slides and negatives have mostly been replaced by iPhotos. Meaning I have thousands of pictures that are unsorted, uncatalogued and rarely looked at. Like my dad, I still manage to annoy my kids by taking pictures of them whenever I can.

On the last weekend of August, we drove them, Emily and Nick, from home in New York City to Ann Arbor, Michigan, where my son was to begin his freshman year of college. Leslie and I, in the front seats of the rented SUV, had signed our separation agreement and filed for divorce just a few weeks earlier.

We didn't speak very much.

The two kids sat in the back with Nick's MacBook Pro watching movies and old episodes of "The Office" that they seemed to know by heart. Earbuds cut them off from us; an added buffer was provided by the satellite radio I'd set to the jazz, blues, classical, classic rock, folk and Sinatra channels, and which I surfed impatiently.

It felt like a demilitarized zone on wheels.

We stopped overnight in Cleveland, at the home of my brother Ed and his wife, Sue, their suburban place big enough to provide separate bedrooms for Leslie and me. Emily and Nick shared a room, as they like to do, because they tend to stay up all night watching, well, movies and old episodes of "The Office."

We retired early, and the next morning, after a late breakfast, I cajoled the kids into letting me take some pictures in the lush backyard before heading off for the last few hours of the drive. It was not the send-off any of us had imagined, for we all seemed keenly aware that the place Nick would be coming home to on vacations and breaks was never to be the same again.

Some of our closest friends were shocked when we announced that were splitting up. They're still shocked. Leslie and I had hosted memorable dinner parties and reared children who took pleasure in family rituals, family vacations, family meals. We'd put on, in the inimitable words of Ed Sullivan, a really good shoe.

Bennetts-Gerard Family holiday card, 2003. Credit: Jeremy Gerard

"I have every one of your Christmas cards," several friends said, their voices tinged with disbelief.

Yes, the Christmas card. It was just Emily for the first three years, and then the two of them -- never the four of us. It was always a holiday picture -- no one ever got a family Christmas card with our kids on horses at a dude ranch in July. They were in outfits befitting the season, usually red and green, almost always with snow.

People tended to keep those holiday pictures of the Bennetts-Gerard kids. "We're part of a perfect family," they advertised.

When I was 5, my mother, father, brothers and I drove to the opening of a new department store in a nearby town. They were taking pictures of every family, and that night, while my parents were out, we got a phone call telling us that we'd won the Davega Stores' Happy Family Contest. As the Happiest Family, we were entitled to $100 worth of free stuff, which in1957 was quite a windfall. My brothers and I posted signs all over the house telling my parents we'd been named the Happiest Family, which of course we weren't and never had been. I learned early on that, contrary to the popular notion, at least in the era before PhotoShop, pictures often lie.

Now, on the clear bright morning of that Sunday in Cleveland, when the summer heat was first showing signs of blowing away in autumn breezes, Em and Nick posed in in my big brother's tidy backyard. One particular photo haunts me: the light is golden, the greens are vibrant and the two of them look a little distant, as though their minds are focused elsewhere. Certainly not on Christmas morning in a living room on Riverside Drive crowded with a huge tree and stockings and dozens of packages waiting to be opened.

I believe that's the picture I'm going to send out this year.

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]]>empty nestempty-nestEmptyNestJeremy GerardWed, 03 Nov 2010 12:00:00 ESTTips for Divorcing Parentshttp://www.parentdish.com/2010/10/29/tips-for-divorcing-parents/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/10/29/tips-for-divorcing-parents/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/10/29/tips-for-divorcing-parents/#commentsFiled under: , , , , , ,

A lawyer by the name of Joshua Ketover sent over these tips via his publicist. We typically don't reprint press releases, and we are certainly not endorsing this guy since we don't know him, but his advice seemed timely, given that celebrities are breaking up left and right these days.

Having been down this road, we reviewed this list and it's pretty solid. So, yeah, the divorce process sucks, but ya gotta do what ya gotta do. Here are Ketover's tips on how to keep the kids as sane as possible while you're riding the break-up roller coaster:

DOs:
1. Keep life as normal as possible. Coordinate with the other parent to ensure your child's routine is maintained with little disruption.
2. Reinforce the idea that the divorce has nothing to do with the child. That both parents love the child very much.
3. Communicate with the other parent regularly about the child's needs, concerns, etc. Both parents have a right to know and both should work together to achieve what's best for the child.
4. Make each parent's individual time with the child a positive experience when getting the child ready to visit or to return from a visit. This can be done by saying how much fun it will be on leaving for a visit or talking about how much fun it was upon returning.
5. Acknowledge the reality that children are perceptive. They pick up more than you would think. As a result, do be careful about what is said in their presence.

DON'Ts:
1. Never speak ill of the other parent to or in front of the child. This is known as "alienating affection" and has dire consequences, including affecting custody.
2. Never discuss details of the court case with the child. A child should not know anything other than the fact that the parents are divorcing. Any details shared with the child, irrespective of her age, can have dire consequences including affecting custody.
3. Never argue in front of the child. Raising the level of stress already present in the child's life as a result of the divorce can have lasting psychological effects on the child.
4. Do not try and make the child favor you by plying them with gifts. Not only can it be considered an attempt to alienate the child from the other parent, it also creates a detrimental dynamic between you and the child.
5. Do not use the child to communicate messages, carry letters or give support checks to the other parent. The child should not be involved in the business of divorce.

And, for a lighter moment, while we can't endorse this guy either, we did have a good laugh from his honesty.

See more funny videos and Funny Videos at Today's Big Thing.

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]]>the editors at ParentDishFri, 29 Oct 2010 16:27:00 ESTFind an Inner Gutsy Girl Through the Trenches of Single Parenting and Job Losshttp://www.parentdish.com/2010/10/13/find-an-inner-gutsy-girl-through-the-trenches-of-single-parentin/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/10/13/find-an-inner-gutsy-girl-through-the-trenches-of-single-parentin/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/10/13/find-an-inner-gutsy-girl-through-the-trenches-of-single-parentin/#commentsFiled under: , , ,

the courage companion book picture

"The Courage Companion" encourages you to embrace life, no matter how scary it may be. Credit: Viva Editions

You know that expression, "life happens?" One minute, I was headed down this fulfilling path: A 40-something mom of three really awesome kids, vice president for an Internet company and someone who found time to volunteer at my kid's school and work with inner city teens. Yes, things were looking pretty good. We looked pretty good. I knew we weren't "The Donna Reed Show," but neighbors dubbed us "The Perfect Family."

Guess what happened?

My marriage crumbled. Both my parents got really sick. My dad was in hospice and my son was in ICU on the day my company doled out pink slips.

Suddenly, I was jobless, grieving the loss of my dad, my marriage and the lifestyle that fit neatly into my suburban Chicago neighborhood. I found myself racing from hospitals to the senior living community where my mother lives to the sidelines of my youngest daughter's tennis matches, trying to keep that cheerleader smile on my face. I suddenly knew what it felt like to sit with a laptop at Starbucks in the sea of the anxious unemployed, cranking out cover letters and resumes day after day. I wanted to collapse on the floor in a fetal position.

I never expected to face the bad things. But suddenly there they were. I told myself, "Alright. Buck up. Be there for your kids." That's what I focused on. I've always been drawn to adventure and knew I had to transform this little "life happens" glitch into a gutsy move. It was time to mobilize and tap into my inner Nancy Drew/Rosa Parks and all the courageous women whose stories of resilience and fortitude I've devoured. I clutched onto their inspiration like a lifeline.

A can-do attitude, courage and resiliency became the mainstays and keys to my family's and my own ability to embrace the exhilarating life I believe I live today.

But it occurred to me that others, too, could avoid choking in the face of job loss fears and other scary life stuff, by cultivating a courageous attitude and creating their own turnaround opportunities instead of becoming paralyzed. I found, personally and professionally, that by remaining calm and under control, you can tap into your own inner courage.

This urgency to muster up my own courage became the inspiration for "The Courage Companion: How to Live Life with True Power," (Viva Editions, $15.95) which I co-wrote with a friend and colleague, Nina Lesowitz.

If there is a time for courage, it is now. Today is National Face Your Fears Day and the day this book arrives on the shelves of booksellers. Since 2007, this day is honored to help people celebrate the courage within, according to Steve Hughes, a presentation skills trainer who marveled at the sheer terror people faced when giving a speech in public and created the day to inspire courage.

In writing "The Courage Companion" my co-author, Nina, and I, spent the last year exploring and surfacing the mechanism of courage by interviewing people with extraordinary fortitude.

Our research through interviews with nearly 100 people confirmed that those who survive and thrive in the face of the daily trials of life exemplify the quality of courage. As one unknown author once said, "Courage is looking fear right in the eye and saying 'Get the hell out of my way. I've got things to do.' "

What we found is that people who took action, and faced down their fears, were able to reclaim a far more powerful life. One example includes Angela Logan, a single mom of three, who saved her home from foreclosure with a bake sale. After selling 100 cakes in 10 days at $40 a piece, she was able to pay off some bills and launched a cake-baking empire. (She sold her recipe to a national franchise).

Experts tell you to face your fears head on, and we agree. It is imperative that you keep a positive attitude, both for your own emotional well-being and that of your children. Here are five tips we learned from others who managed to tap into their courage, and turn their lives around:

1. Write down your fears. Identify what your fear is, as well as why you fear it.

2. Determine your goals. If you want to move past fear, you must first make a commitment to yourself that you will take action to create a new future.

3. Visualize your new life. Take time every day to see, in your mind's eye, what that new future holds.

4. Learn from others. Success stories can be a very inspiring call to action.

5. Do one little thing outside your comfort zone every day. Call people you haven't spoken to in a while to ask for help. By re-framing your thoughts and taking it one step at a time, you can open yourself up to new perspectives, and new opportunities.

Another cool thing about courage is, once you embrace it in yourself, it spills over into all aspects of your life. In the last few years, I've done things I would have never imagined, including competing in triathlons and forging ahead on my own personally and professionally. Our goal for the book is to help others live their lives with guts and gusto.

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]]>courageparenting booksParentingBooksthe courage companionTheCourageCompanionMary Beth SammonsWed, 13 Oct 2010 17:00:00 ESTAdoptive Parents Ordered to Surrender 3-Year-Old to Biological Fatherhttp://www.parentdish.com/2010/09/28/adoptive-parents-ordered-to-surrender-3-year-old-to-biological-f/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/09/28/adoptive-parents-ordered-to-surrender-3-year-old-to-biological-f/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/09/28/adoptive-parents-ordered-to-surrender-3-year-old-to-biological-f/#commentsFiled under: , , , , , , ,





In what may turn out to be a nightmare-come-true for adoptive parents, an Indiana couple risks losing their son today to the child's biological father in Ohio, after fighting to adopt the boy for nearly three years.

The couple, Jason and Christy Vaughn, arranged to adopt the boy, Grayson, from his biological mother after his birth in 2007. However, after a series of legal battles that ascended to the Ohio Supreme Court, the Vaughns have been ordered to immediately turn the boy over to his biological father, Benjamin Wyrembek, according to the Toledo Blade.

The Vaughns were present at Grayson's birth in October 2007, and have had custody of the boy since they took him to their home in Indiana just eight days later, according to ABC News. However, within 30 days of his birth, Wyrembek, registered with the Putative Father Registry in Ohio, affirming that he might be the boy's father. Wyrembek then filed a suit to establish parental rights in December 2007, just weeks before the Vaughns filed for adoption, according to court documents.

Wyrembek had been seeing the biological mother -- who was married to another man at the time -- when she became pregnant. Ultimately, she broke off the relationship with Wyrembek and divorced her husband, then surrendered the child at birth to a Columbus, Ohio, adoption agency, according to the Fort Wayne News-Sentinel.

Grayson's biological mother tells ABC News she lost contact with Wyrembek early in her pregnancy, and wasn't required by law to provide his contact information to the adoption agency. Court documents confirm that the biological mother and her husband -- the legal father -- filed the necessary papers to surrender custody of the child within weeks of his birth.

Seventeen months later, after genetic testing confirmed Wyrembek as Grayson's biological father, and before the adoption could be finalized, an Ohio court ruled that the Vaughns had filed their adoption petition prematurely -- since paternity had not yet been determined -- and awarded custody to Wyrembek.

The custody decision has since been upheld by the Ohio Court of Appeals and, most recently, by the Supreme Court of Ohio, according to court documents, which refer to the "right of a natural parent to the care and custody of his children (as) one of the most precious and fundamental in law."

However, the Vaughns say that although they were aware of Wyrembek's intentions early on, he refused to meet or talk with them after Grayson's birth. So, as time passed, they became convinced that the law was on their side, the Blade reports.

"He's never contacted us directly. He's never asked how the child is doing. He's never sent a birthday card," Jason Vaughn tells the Blade. "What they'll say is they've litigated this from the beginning, that he filed a paternity action in the very beginning; that he's done everything he can do."

Glenn Sacks, national executive director of Fathers and Families, a national family court reform organization, tells ParentDish he sees this type of case all too often.

"These cases are very difficult because what usually happens is that the adoptive parents will hold onto the child as long as they can," Sacks says. "And then by the time it winds its way to a decision, they say, 'How can we rip the kid from the only family they've ever known and give him to his biological father?' "

But the attorney for the Vaughns, Michael Voorhees, asserts that the Ohio courts have not followed state adoption law.

"The law says you don't need (the birth father's) consent for adoption if he willfully abandoned the birth mother during the pregnancy," Voorhees tells the Blade.

In response to the decision, Wyrembek's attorney, Alan J. Lehenbauer tells ABC News: "My client, the biological father, was awarded legal custody by an Ohio court after consideration of all evidence." Lehenbauer adds that his client "has sought the return of his child since shortly after birth and will not relitigate this matter in the media."

Jason Vaughn says litigation is not the same as support.

"We want him to have contacted Grayson and to have supported him," he tells ABC News. "And our position is he has not done that."

Sacks says he thinks there's an enormous amount of prejudice against biological fathers who want to raise their kids.

"People say, 'Gee, could he really raise a kid on his own like that?' " Sacks tells ParentDish. "But when motivated fathers have a chance to raise their kids, they're usually very effective, and the research bears that out."

The Vaughns tell ABC News there are currently two different adoption petitions pending in Ohio, and they haven't had their day in court yet; they are now appealing the 24-hour order to turn Grayson over to Wyrembek.

"I just want to ask, if there's a congressman, a judge, a senator, the Ohio governor, the Indiana governor, please get involved. Please, I am begging you; this is our family," Christy Vaughn tells CBS News.

Reacting to the 24-hour turnover order, the Vaughns are asking that a transition be mandated, and have hired a child psychologist to draft a recommended transition plan for a slower, measured transition. That plan has been filed with the court in Ohio and is awaiting decision.

"If we're going to lose Grayson -- we don't think we should -- but if we're going to, then it's got to be done right, and the current order that stands isn't right, and anyone should know that," Jason Vaughn tells ABC News.

Christy Vaughn says she can't imagine telling her two other children that they'll be losing their brother.

"There's absolutely no difference. He's our child, and he has been since the moment I held him. I don't know anything else but that," she tells ABC News.

Neither of the attorneys in the case could be reached for comment.

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]]>adoptionadoption caseadoption suitAdoptionCaseAdoptionSuitbiological fatherBiologicalFatherHoney BerkTue, 28 Sep 2010 15:02:00 ESTLawmaker Wants to Help Crazy Parents Abandon Their Childrenhttp://www.parentdish.com/2010/09/01/lawmaker-wants-to-help-crazy-parents-abandon-their-children/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/09/01/lawmaker-wants-to-help-crazy-parents-abandon-their-children/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/09/01/lawmaker-wants-to-help-crazy-parents-abandon-their-children/#commentsFiled under: , ,

Abandon kids

A South Carolina lawmaker wants parents to be able to abandon their kid until age 5. Credit: Getty Images


Uncertain about this whole parenting business?

Not to worry. Have a child and see how you like him. Take five years. If you're not completely satisfied, just return the child to the nearest police or fire station, outpatient medical facility or place of worship.

No law enforcement officer will call on you. In fact, state Rep. Chip Limehouse of South Carolina wants you to abandon your unwanted child.

It's better than killing the kid.

If parents are so crazy that they would kill their children, Limehouse tells CBS News, let them abandon them instead. That's why he proposes state legislation to enable parents to discard their kids -- without penalty -- any time during their first five years of life.

South Carolina's current return policy only gives you 30 days to make up your mind as to whether or not you want to keep your kids. Within that month, you can drop them off at any of the aforementioned locations without penalty.

Continue reading Lawmaker Wants to Help Crazy Parents Abandon Their Children

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]]>child abondonmentchild legislationchild murderChildAbondonmentChildLegislationChildMurderchip limehouseChipLimehouseTom HendersonWed, 01 Sep 2010 16:00:00 ESTBoston Dad Fights to Get Kids Back from Egypthttp://www.parentdish.com/2010/09/01/boston-dad-fights-to-get-kids-back-from-egypt/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/09/01/boston-dad-fights-to-get-kids-back-from-egypt/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/09/01/boston-dad-fights-to-get-kids-back-from-egypt/#commentsFiled under: , ,

PRODUCTION PLAYER! DO NOT DELETE.


Colin Bower posts video messages to his sons on Facebook. He hopes they can see him, because he can't see them.

His ex-wife, Mirvat el Nady, violated their custody agreement, allegedly forged passport documents and ran off with their boys to her native Egypt. Bower hasn't seen Ramsay, 7, or Noor, 9, since Nady, who is listed as a fugitive by Interpol, picked them up for a scheduled on visit Aug. 9 of last year.

MSNBC reports Bower has traveled to Egypt six times. However, despite help from U.S. Sen. John Kerry and the State Department, the Boston resident doesn't know when -- or if -- he will see his sons again.

Bower started a Facebook campaign to get the boys back and tells "Today" he hopes his sons know about it.

"It is, frankly, therapeutic for me to communicate with them in some fashion after a year, because I haven't been able to see them at all," Bower tells "Today."

Continue reading Boston Dad Fights to Get Kids Back from Egypt

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]]>child custodyChildCustodycolin bowerColinBowercustody battleCustodyBattlefacebookfacebook dadFacebookDadkidnappingTom HendersonWed, 01 Sep 2010 13:00:00 ESTDo Dads Matter?http://www.parentdish.com/2010/09/01/do-dads-matter/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/09/01/do-dads-matter/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/09/01/do-dads-matter/#commentsFiled under: ,

Jennifer Aniston stepped on a cultural landmine.

"Women are realizing more and more that you don't have to settle, they don't have to fiddle with a man to have that child," the actress said while discussing male sperm donation, a central theme of her recent movie, "The Switch."

Shortly after, Bill O'Reilly, blasted her for "diminishing the role of the dad." These messages, O'Reilly said, are not only hurtful to dads, but also destructive for society.

I agree.

Fatherhood matters, and in our tabloid culture where it has become trendy to "go it alone," there is a real danger that the unique and intended role of fathers in the lives of children is being diminished by popular culture and the celebration of celebrity moms who are touted as heroes and hailed as "empowered" for choosing to parent without a dad. While their baby bumps, designer strollers and adorable baby outfits are closely scrutinized, the effects of a fatherless childhood for their new little bundles barely merits a mention.

There is no substitute for the love of a father. And experienced moms will tell you that no matter how devoted (or wealthy) a mom is, there are certain things that only dads can do for their children.

Continue reading Do Dads Matter?

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]]>bill oreillyBillOreillyjennifer anistonJenniferAnistonrole of dadsrole of fathersRoleOfDadsRoleOfFathersthe switchTheSwitchRachel Campos-DuffyWed, 01 Sep 2010 09:33:00 ESTCyber-Age Solomon Orders Mom to Provide Skype for Noncustodial Dadhttp://www.parentdish.com/2010/08/13/mom-to-provide-skype-for-noncustodial-d/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/08/13/mom-to-provide-skype-for-noncustodial-d/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/08/13/mom-to-provide-skype-for-noncustodial-d/#commentsFiled under: , , ,

Mom must Provide Skype for Noncustodial Dad judge says

Credit: Paul Sakuma, AP

When we were kids, we were promised the 21st century would have flying cars, jet packs, robots and orbiting space colonies.
Welcome to the future. You don't get a robot butler -- just a court order to provide Skype for your ex.

A judge in New York state brought custody agreements into the cyber age by requiring a wife moving to Florida with her two kids to provide Skype to her ex-husband, so he can chat with his kids and see their faces on the computer.

The New York Daily News reports Debra Baker must provide Skype "at her own cost and expense" under a ruling by state Supreme Court Justice Jerry Garguilo.

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]]>expire-images:2011-6-30Skype Custody Agreement New York Florida Court RulingSkypeCustodyAgreementNewYorkFloridaCourtRulingTom HendersonFri, 13 Aug 2010 09:00:00 EST'You're Not the Boss of Me!' is My Daughter's Favorite Line!http://www.parentdish.com/2010/08/09/youre-not-the-boss-of-me-is-my-daughters-favorite-line/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/08/09/youre-not-the-boss-of-me-is-my-daughters-favorite-line/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/08/09/youre-not-the-boss-of-me-is-my-daughters-favorite-line/#commentsFiled under: , ,


Dear AdviceMama,

My almost-8-year-old and I butt heads a lot. She acts like she is the boss and I feel like I am always yelling at her. How do I get her off her pedestal? How do I let her know I'm the boss -- not her?

Signed,
I'm the Boss

Dear Boss,

"You're not the boss of me!" was the theme song on a popular TV show a few years ago, and it struck a chord with every parent who's had a child proclaim their position as ruler of the roost. Kids easily become little emperors or empresses, and once they've tasted power, they aren't easily talked out of wanting more.

Continue reading 'You're Not the Boss of Me!' is My Daughter's Favorite Line!

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]]>Susan Stiffelman, MFTMon, 09 Aug 2010 11:00:00 ESTHow to Talk to Your Kids About Divorcehttp://www.parentdish.com/2010/08/04/talking-to-your-kids-about-divorce/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/08/04/talking-to-your-kids-about-divorce/http://www.parentdish.com/2010/08/04/talking-to-your-kids-about-divorce/#commentsFiled under: , , , , , , , ,

Let kids know you will always love them, despite the divorce. Credit: dno1967, Flickr

Divorce is not an easy time for any family, but studies have shown the period leading up to the actual divorce can be one of the hardest for kids.

So, how have so many children emerged from divorced homes to become happy, healthy members of society? Their parents put in the time and effort to make it happen.

"The children need to know that they will always come first," advises Dr. Carole Lieberman, a California psychiatrist who's a member of the clinical faculty at UCLA. "Both parents -- and all their children -- need to be there when they break the news of divorce. And the most important messages to communicate are that it is not the child's fault and that the parents will still always love them."

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]]>divorcedivorcing parentsDivorcingParentskids-and-divorcesingle parentingSingleParentingJeanne SagerWed, 04 Aug 2010 18:00:00 EST