Single Parenting

When I first moved back to California five years ago as a single mom, online dating was the talk of the town.

It’s so-not-me, I thought.

I’m the kind of woman who has to see a man in the flesh to fall in love. Computers are for word processing, not man hunting.

As my single mom friend, Siobhan, puts it, “I have to smell a man! You can’t do that on a computer screen!”

Still, my girlfriends dared me to post my profile on Match.com. I’m a sucker for dares. So, online I went.

“Are you an honest, big-hearted man with no addictions, except coffee?” I asked in the first line of my Match.com profile.

A funny thing happens when you decide to open yourself up to a new possibility, like dating. It actually happens. I organized all “my men” in a thick three-ringed binder. There was Gary, the divorced businessman who liked watching movies that make him sad. There was Robby, who looked like a Calvin Klein ad and went to AA meetings every week to stay sober.

I fell in love with the anonymity of it all, the minutes ticking by, my fingers tapping out responses. It felt so safe to be checking men out from my living room. I scrolled through hundreds of them, clicking on their photos.

But online dating is a demanding, arduous job without pay. After a couple of months, I had bags under my eyes. I was crankier than my kid.

My angel… As a flower girl in her cousin’s wedding

As it turns out, single motherhood has been my first lesson in learning how to date — for real. Pre-kid, I confused a red flag for a green light. Pre-kid, I didn’t know what my deal-breakers were — now I do. Dating as a single mom taught me to my trust instincts when they tell me to pause.

What I’ve learned is that no matter how a date ends, what really matters at the end of the day is coming home to my girl-power house and kissing my first love, my daughter.

I am first and foremost a mom, dedicated completely to my daughter’s well-being. She will always come first.

dating, single mom, single parents, red flags, motherhood, men, friends, dating

Calling all Choice Moms!

For the first time ever in history, Choice Mom Expo will take place in April in the Bay Area — and you’re invited.

Over 200 Choice Moms will be coming together in Berkeley, CA on Saturday, April 28, from 9 to 1:30 p.m. Would you like to be there?

Online registration will begin today: Monday, March 12. Please email: choicemom@gmail.com

Here’s a previer of just a few of the speakers:

Leah Klungness, “Parenting Tips for the Complete Single Mother�

Christy Jones, “The Egg Freezing Option�

Carla Pedrussian, “Selecting a Donor�

(Yours truly will chat about “Dating as a Single Mom�)

This conference is being planned by amazing choice mom Mikki Morrissette, author of “Choosing Single Motherhood: The Thinking Woman’s Guide”

For more info, Email: choicemom@gmail.com

single mom, single mom by choice, choice mom, Mikki Morrissette, donor, sperm

This month, I’m off to Seattle for The Book. I should be psyched. I should be calling old friends up north and planning a girls’ night — all night. I should be packing my heels and cleavage-showing shirts. But this is the first out-of-state trip I’ve ever taken without my Big Girl. Oh, sure, my six-year-old has had slumber parties at friends’ houses; and I’ve been on a total of two weekend trips since she was born. But there’s something about boarding a plane by myself…. I’m a bit emotional right now.

This is what’s reassuring: my sister and her dog will be staying at my place with Mae. Hopefully she’ll make the oatmeal just right and get her to school on time. Friends are jumping in left and right to pick her up at school with hugs and kisses.

travel, single mom, single parent, Seattle, book, alone

First, Happy International Women’s Day to all of you!

So, what’s my future advice for my Big Girl, as she approaches the ripe age of seven?….

Check it out here, in the most recent review of Single Mom Seeking in one of my fav kid magazine blogs at Cookie… written by award-winning novelist Caroline Leavitt.

My daughter Mae will turn seven in April. When I think about the dating advice I might give her someday, it will be this: Enjoy being single. Life is not about finding your prince and living happily every after. Get out there and be alive; have your own ball, kid. (And I’ll make a silent hope that she never repeats my mistakes.)

Please read the full story here.

single parents, single mom, Single Mom Seeking, Cookie, Caroline Leavitt, single, dating

This Sunday, March 11, from 9 - 10 a.m., I’ll be on one of my favorite local radio shows, CHILDHOOD MATTTERS, to talk about Life as a Single Parent. I’m thrilled to be joined by single father of two, David Dasilva.

Please listen at 98.1 FM and call in!

Raising a child without the help of a partner can seem overwhelming. What can single parents do to get the support they need? Join Rona, David and me as we discuss the challenges of single parenting — from fatigue to finding the time to date.

Share your thoughts: 1-877-372-KIDS

[Note that it's Daylight Savings]

single parent, fatigue, dating, radio, challenges, children

I’ve found that one of the best ways to explain our little family to my daughter is through books. Fortunately, today there’s a variety of kids’ books out there for single parents. My personal favorite, for the younger set (ages 4 to 7), is WHO’S IN A FAMILY?, by Robert Skutch. There’s even a make-your-own photo album at the back, where we’ve glued in pictures of our family: mama and Mae, aunt Rebecca, Grandpa….

single parent, single parents, children, family, books

My Big Girl is back, better than ever. Now it’s my turn to be struck down by the flu.

I’m grateful for the friends who’ve picked my daughter up at school, and the friends who’ve offered to bring over soda and Tylenol.

I’m letting my Big Girl play way too many games on the computer, it’s hard to get out of bed.

So much for single nurturing today, huh?

I promise to get better, too.

Did anyone see this story today in the headline news?…”Men told to listen to ticking clock.”

NEW YORK, Feb. 28 (UPI) — Some fertility experts say men have their own biological clock and shouldn’t be too cavalier about postponing children.

The New York Times says recent studies show men in their mid- to late 40s have an increased risk of fathering children with genetic abnormalities, including autism and schizophrenia.

The newspaper said analyses of sperm samples has found changes as men age, including increased fragmentation of DNA.

“Obviously there is a difference between men and women; women simply can’t have children after a certain age,” said Dr. Harry Fisch, director of the Male Reproductive Center at New York-Presbyterian Hospital/Columbia University Medical Center. “But not every man can be guaranteed that everything’s going to be fine.”

Fisch, author of “The Male Biological Clock, said, “Fertility will drop for some men, others will maintain their fertility but not to the same degree, and there is an increased risk of genetic abnormalities.”

Copyright 2007 by United Press International. All Rights Reserved.

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Ah, now I know why the Israeli put so much pressure on me about having Baby No. 2 ASAP, just a few months into our courtship….

I’d never heard a man long for a baby like that before.

“I need to know that you want another child,” he said.

“I might be open to it at some point,” I said. “But not now.”

“If you don’t want another one, tell me now,â€? he said, “and we’ll go our separate ways.”

Five months into our relationship, The Israeli and I were deeply in love. If you looked at us developmentally, we were still in the baby stage, barely sitting up, just beginning to trust. But there was something about the way we looked into each other’s eyes, and the way we touched each other.

Was he my future partner? Was he the man who would come to bed with me for the rest of my life? It was too early to tell. At that time, he seemed to be a good balance to my sensitive, moody side. At that time, I didn’t see his heavy baggage. Maybe he didn’t see mine.

When his friend, who set us up, sent me an email, it dissolved me:

He is so excited about you! This is the first time I’ve heard him this enthusiastic about a relationship. (Mind you, it’s in his typical tempered style.) He’s happier than I’ve ever seen.

Good thing. There was quite a bit of happiness on this end, too.

When The Israeli rang our doorbell, Mae flew down the stairs and right into his arms. We went on a walk around the marina, the three of us, with Mae perched atop his shoulders. Before bed, he swung her in the kitchen in big circles.

In the latest local blurb about my book, “Single Mom Seeking: Playdates, Blind Dates and Other Dispatches from the Dating World,” the ANG Newspaper staff writer sums it up by saying:

“The author talks about life as a single mom — her support system, her daughter, her dating adventures and her yearning to find Mr. Wonderful.”

Let it be said here and now — for the first time in public — that my relationship with Mr. Wonderful is ending.

One and a half years ago, I fell hard for the Israeli. I’d been dating off and on for four years as a single mom when I met this reliable, sturdy contractor who ran his own business. A reader of my San Francisco column at J Weekly had set us up.I thought he was The One.

She described him as “an amazing Jewish man who adores kids.” He certainly adores kids, that’s true. He and my Big Girl adore each other.

But I didn’t see the red flags: that a 45-year-old man who has never been married and has never lived with a woman might not be ready for commitment. He might not be ready for the work that comes along with a relationship.

He’s light and easy. He loves to play pool and talk about the stalemate in the Middle East. But he doesn’t like to deal with the heavy stuff that many relationships come with. And I’ll be the first to admit: I’m not that easy.

A year ago, I was saying, Someone pinch me, please.

Now I’m saying, This hurts.

The Israeli says that he’s “not feeling it anymore” and that he “doesn’t know how to get it back.” This is his all-time longest relationship, and we’ve had our ups and downs. But I was hopeful.

I’m trying not to blame myself.

And of course, as always, my Big Girl comes first.

[Shattered Heart by fkuffel at flickr.com]

Live on ABC News…

I recently had a TV interview about what it’s like to date as a single mom. But when the host was reciting the latest stats on single moms — the fact that one out of four women are having babies on their own! — she said these babies are born “out of wedlock.”

When will they stop using that phrase? Does it bother you as much as it does me?

You can watch the ABC News Interview here: “Single Moms Really Can Have It All!”

Later, Andrea Engber, from SingleMothers.org, wrote to me with this brilliant advice: Say that you’re a MOM… a mother outside of marriage. Love it!

Don’t let yourself whither away like this flower….

As a single parent, taking care of yourself should be one of your top priorities, right?

Who are the five most important people in your support network?

What do you do when you’re lonely?

How do you get time for yourself?

Today, Jennifer Wolf, Guide to Single Parents at About.com, has a great quiz called: “Are You Taking Good Care of Yourself?”

Try it here! Let me know how you score.

Photo courtesy of flickr, photoplasia / Jim Kost

How will my daughter ever learn how to have healthy relationships with men if there isn’t a man around?

I often ask myself this question. The family snapshot I imagined when I was pregnant was not just the two of us. I’d pictured my daughter, Mae, riding atop her father’s shoulders every afternoon on her way home from preschool. Every night before bed, they’d dance in the living room together, as she balanced her little feet on top of his big ones, doing the foxtrot and rumba. Unlike me, Mae’s dad had rhythm.

She’s in first grade now, and her father has been out of the picture since she was an infant. I no longer hold onto that fantasy picture of the traditional family, but I do worry about what it means for Mae not to have a dad around.

Who will be there to compensate for my weaknesses? I’m a writer by trade, for instance, so math is not my forte. Who’s going to help her with her geometry homework? While I love to exercise - walking and swimming - I never mastered any team sport. When she started playing soccer, my own kid had to explain the rules to me.

Especially: Who’s going to set limits with her? Nurturing has always been my strong point, not discipline. Yes, a lot of my strengths and weaknesses seem to fall along stereotypical gender lines. But they are who I am. And without having a man - a partner - around, I find myself wondering: How will I handle it all?

In search of answers, I pick up the phone and call Cheryl Erwin, a marriage and family therapist in Reno, Nevada. Her book, “Positive Discipline for Single Parents” is on my shelf and I often browse through it when I’m feeling on edge. “Single moms really worry about discipline,” Erwin says. “Part of this is cultural. There’s that whole ‘Wait till your father gets home!’ way of thinking. But research shows that single dads fair no better than single moms.”

Erwin points out that there is no greater rate of delinquency or other behavior problems in children with single mothers than with single fathers. Instead, she says, the most influential factor in single parenting appears to be economics and the effect that poverty has on families. “Single moms usually wind up working longer hours for less money than do fathers, which has an obvious effect on family life,” says Erwin.

The most important thing for single parents - male and female - is educating themselves about everything from how to discipline to what’s going on developmentally with your child at certain ages. Erwin urges me to take local parenting classes or attend a workshop, which will also allow me to meet other single parents who share my concerns.

By educating yourself, Erwin says, you gain much more confidence in your own ability to decide what the limits are and how to handle discipline questions.

Thanks!… I’d love to hear about how you handle discipline — and other life issues — on your own.

Here’s my Valentine, six-year-old Mae

Yesterday, on Valentine’s Day, Mae had a fever. We were in bed, I had my laptop on my lap, trying to work. Ah, that’s why they call this thing a “laptop.” We were wearing matching red heart T-shirts, leftover from a sale purchase last year at Old Navy. I’m a sucker for this love-day, I’ll admit it.

Mae feeding her Grandpa…

At age 29, more than a decade after leaving home, I found myself living with my dad again.

My relationship with my boyfriend was over. But I wasn’t quite prepared to be the single mom of my baby girl.

In Manhattan, I’d been a researcher at Time Inc.’s high rise in mid-town. But I’d left all of that to move back to my home state for more support. Now, I was living back under my father’s roof in San Francisco, in his high rise.

Despite that, I knew that I was not the only one. Today, over five million children live in a household that includes a grandparent, according to the U.S. Census Bureau.

Moreover, a Cornell University study (2005) shows that having “children who live with a single mom and a grandparent fare just as well as children living with married parents.

If you knew me as a kid, however, you’d know this was my worst nightmare come true. I’d always been an independent spirit, the all-honors kid in the suburbs who wore hiking boots under her shiny gold high school graduation gown. I’d supported myself for a decade in the publishing world. I was proud of myself for making it on my own.

But now, I realized, I had to swallow my pride, at least temporarily.

My relationship with my father had never been easy. And now my daughter had no father to speak of.

When I went to college at age 18, my dad had a hard time letting me go. He’d called me everyday. He’d sent me bouquets of flowers. Every time I said, “stop” he said, “go.” While most people saw him as the most generous dad in the world, I’d felt smothered. In vengeance, I dropped my — and his — last name. At first, it was innocent enough: signing my school work as “Rachel Sarah.” My first name and middle name. No last name, no father. I liked it. I was unapologetically standing on my own feet. I soon made my new name official: my bankcard, my driver’s license. Dropping his name was my way of saying, “I want a divorce.”

But now, ten years later, I was a grown-up with a kid in tow. I needed my dad.

I didn’t know how to heal my relationship with him, but I wanted to. Without a doubt, he’d always been supportive of my decision to have a child. Since her birth, he’d tried his best to be helpful and supportive. Dramatic, often, but also caring and loving. I realized that I’d made some dramatic decisions in separating myself from him, but more and more I want to clear the air and have him be a vital part of my daughter’s life.

Today, at age 67, he was a doting, chubby, and red-cheeked retiree. Still, he’d forget to think before he spoke. Case in point: he’d tell me all of a sudden, “You’re a terrible cook.” I didn’t like being dependent on him. I hated asking him to buy my daughter a new pair of shoes because her current ones were pinching her toes. Or asking him to help me apartment-hunt because I didn’t have a car.

But I also realized how blessed I was; maybe I could get over this. At least I could try. I also knew that I as lucky to have his support. Other fathers might have shunned their daughters for having a baby out of wedlock. Or for choosing the wrong man. Not mine.

At age two, my daughter now called him “Pa.”

Every night without fail, she dashed into his bedroom and pulled herself up on his bed.

“Pa!” she yelled.

“Do I hear a monkey in my bed?” he said in his deep monster-voice.

“No!” she giggled.

“I hope there isn’t a monkey in my bed!” he said.

“No!” she said. “Come and see!”

“I better not find a monkey in my bed!” he said.

She dove under his covers with a shriek.

He pulled the blankets back. “I said, ‘No monkeys on my bed!’ ”

She shrieked in joy. He hugged her. “Again!” she said. “Again!”

Yes, I realized how lucky I was.

As much as my Dad could be a pain in the butt — and I still agonize over how to redefine our relationship — I realized that he was the best built-in babysitter a mom could ever ask for.

And still is.

My daughter has a man in her life after all — it’s just that it’s my Dad.