further thoughts on weekends and Father's Day

Another single-dad blogger noted the difficulty of making the transition from full-time dad to soloist for the summer. Such transitions can be full of nuanced emotions — from happy to have some "adult" time to melancholy and downright sad to see the empty bed in the kid's room — and if you're on a schedule like mine, the mini-roller coaster can hit every other week.

It goes without saying that you're always "on duty" when you're a parent. When you're a single parent, that constant sense of duty can be even deeper and thicker. This makes the times when you don't have that responsibility feel like even more of a let-down. The silence of not having the kid there is even louder. The emptiness seems even stranger. The (not) funny part is that it doesn't matter how much I try to pack into those weekends (or weeks for part of the summer); I still end up missing the kid and thinking ahead to what we need to do (or want to do) after she gets back.

This week, I felt melancholy rather than ecstatic when I went to get her. It was Father's Day, and I'd harbored a vague hope that there would be a card or something waiting for me. After all, I'd made a point of helping the kid get a card when Mother's Day was approaching. It didn't seem like too much to expect reciprocation, but I suppose it was. As a friend put it later in the day, there's a reason we aren't still married. And I suppose after all is said and done, if you watch the attention the "holidays" get, Mother's Day is practically sacrosanct, while Father's Day is an excuse for sales on power tools and barbecue.

In any case, Father's Day last year came with the first lost tooth. It came with a picture drawn for me that morning. It came with waffles. It came with the kid really starting to swim. It came with a trip to my Dad's for grilling out. Somehow, it all seemed more auspicious. We certainly had fun this year — playing and grilling at the pool with friends and family — but on balance it felt a little more melancholy.

I'm not really sure what grand point I'm trying to get to here. It could a rant about the way fathers are often seen as secondary parents, while mothers are revered. It could be a rant about the dynamics of divorce and custody. It could be another deep exploration of the ups and downs we go through as single parents — even when the rest of life seems pretty fortunate and good. Or it could be another entry in a blog that is partly an exploration of all of those things. It could also be just another acknowledgement that even great times come with mixed emotions.

Melancholy aside... Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there!

meltdowns, a recipe

Here's the recipe:

• Take one (1) tired six year-old.
  
• Add a divorce.
  
• Add one (1) corn dog, one (1) small bag of goldfish, and one (1) ice cream pop.
  
• Make the child run around all day, followed by an extra hour of playground time.
  
• Add two (2) parents to play off each other, but keep the parents from taking the bait.
  
• Whisk lightly and watch the results. Then duck because the meltdown the six year-old will have will be beyond epic proportions. Also, prepare your constitution for the child to say some mean things and not to listen to you.
  
• Reset your patience meter.
  
• Add one (1) fruit popsicle, two (2) whole wheat bread, and cartoons to taste while allowing the mixture to calm down.
  
• Hope that this is the worst it gets.

rough mornings

Nobody said single parenthood after divorce would be easy. Regardless, the rough times always seem to catch me off-guard. Lately, there have been bunch of rough mornings. It's partly the age—five and three-quarters is no picnic—but it's also partly the situation.

Still, understanding that and understanding that empathy is essential doesn't make it any easier when the kid is, without warning, lying on her bed crying and saying, "I want mommy." Or saying, "It's not fair that you're divorced. It makes me feel sad when I'm at other kids' houses and they have their daddy and their mommy." Nothing has quite prepared me for what to say or do at those moments. Anybody have any suggestions?

*sigh*

Back to work.

Grrrrrr -- the abridged post

Some ground rules for custody and single parenting:

1. Your child needs time with the other parent, and the custody agreement protects that time.
   
2. Every communication is vaguely like walking on eggshells. The slightest slip, everything breaks, and you're headed right into the same old anger and miscommunication.
   
3. You need your child to trust you, and to be able to talk to you when something questionable has happened.
   
4. You need to make sure nothing poisons how the other parent talks about you to your child.
   

Remember these and bite your tongue, because one of the most difficult aspects of custody, divorce, and single parenting is dealing with a co-parent who doesn't do their part in parenting the child the way you would like. Bite your tongue.

Diff'rent Strokes and beyond

Thinking about The Courtship of Eddie's Father had spurred me on to think about other single fathers in TV, movies, and books. So far, my list looks something like this:

• The Courtship of Eddie's Father
  
• Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
  
• Finding Nemo
  
• Whale Rider
  
• Diff'rent Strokes
  
• Archie's Place
  
• Kramer vs. Kramer
  
• Punky Brewster
  
• Nanny McPhee
  
• Jersey Girl
  
• Full House
  
• Silver Spoons
  
• Benson
  
• Gimme a Break
  
• The Pursuit of Happyness
  
• Silas Marner
  
• Pretty in Pink
  
• Some Kind of Wonderful
  
• The Ballad of Jack and Rose
  
• The Andy Griffith Show
  
• To Kill a Mockingbird
  
• Fly Away Home
  
• Life As a House

Additions and suggestions are welcome, especially examples dealing with divorce where the father takes full custody.

"Her" weekends suck

When we were getting ready this morning, Banana excitedly put on the dress Mommy had just bought for her. Because it has spaghetti straps, however, she had to put a t-shirt on under it for school. The t-shirt she happened to choose is one of the Hannas I bought for her recently, and it bummed me out that she was going to wear it. I didn't say anything about it, though, and swallowed the feelings instead. See, the real issue is that the shirt I bought for her is now going over to Mommy's and may or may not come back to my house any time soon... Except that the real issue is that this was the start of Mommy's weekend.

She'll go over there this afternoon and come back on Sunday afternoon. That's the arrangement at this point. She lives with me and spends every other weekend (or at least most of every other weekend with Mommy). This means I get adult time (unless I get a babysitter) every other weekend. I should be happy about this, right? Happy about the chance to catch up with friends or go out or get things done without worrying about what to do with an almost-five year-old every minute. Happy about it, right? Except that I'm not.

The reality is that I miss being Daddy when Banana isn't around. There's a certain emptiness. I can fill it, as I will this weekend, with some bar time with friends and painting her room--finally. But the reality of being a divorced, single parent is that I still feel incomplete when it is "her" weekend.

Does an almost-5 year-old ever get the concept of _now_?

First, a bit of background: in the last week, we have gotten a couple of boxes from Hanna Andersson. Really cute clothes that Banana really digs. She also got a pair of classic clogs which she was very excited about since another girl in her class has the same ones in a different color.

She was concerned that she couldn't wear them to school since they didn't have a back, until I showed her that the strap swings back. This was great news, greeted with the response, "But I'm not going to wear them to school." What? "I'm not going to wear them until my birthday." Fine, this is two months off. No big deal. I knew she'd change her mind in the meantime. I just wasn't prepared for when she'd change her mind.

Mornings are always a bit of a challenge. I'm not a great morning person, and between my increasingly late bedtime since the shooting and Anna's recent need to sleep past 7:30, we're usually scraping just under the wire to make it to school on time. This morning, as I'm going into the final get-us-out-the-door frenzy, she comes to me to say that she wants to wear the clogs. First off, it's a gym day, so I ask her not to. Second off, I just don't want to deal with it at that moment. I tell her to go put something else on. A couple minutes later, as I'm putting the dog's food down and heading to the door, I look into Anna's room where she is sitting on the floor--no socks, no shoes, and very proud look on her face as she tells me that she figured out how to get the strap down on one of the clogs. I was half an inch from exploding. And to add insult to injury, she decided to go back to the living room to get her blue mary janes.

In retrospect, I could have been either more stern or more accommodating, but the reality is that life with an almost-five year-old is a little crazy and weird. Kids' personalities are so clearly developing, as is their ability to reason and negotiate. Add to that the post-separation dynamics, and the fact that she lives with me full time. It becomes a constant search for the right mix to get us where we need to go.