Real Families: Meet My Co-Parent, Part 3

This is Part 3 of a 4-part interview with my very own co-parent, Ed Banuel.  In Part 1, he talked about how we became co-parents, how having an absent father impacted him and our challenges as co-parents.  In Part 2, he shared his thoughts about growing as a father and dating as a single, co-parenting dad.  And, in this third installment, he talks about me…

Talibah: So where would you say that where have you seen the biggest growth in me as your parenting partner?

Ed: Listening and not trying to control everything. You can’t control everything, and just because things don’t always go as expected, doesn’t mean that we are failures. We just are constantly evolving and learning something new that will ultimately help us in our parenting relationship.

Because no matter what, there’s going to be times when we won’t agree, and we need to step away and revisit the conversation again; think about what we’re trying to communicate. Think about what the other person is trying to say and really step away and come back to discuss it at a later time,because at that particular time, we may not be seeing eye to eye.

We may be really heated and upset. That’s just human nature. We will have outbursts. We will have blowups. But it’s just about how we manage those blowups, minimize them and really do more communicating than arguing. I feel like we definitely have come a long way with that.

My advice to other co-parents: It happens. It’s the reality. Even if you were in the same household with that person…it happens. People argue. People have disagreements, but it’s about how you handle those arguments and disagreements and the lesson that you learned from it. You can beg to differ with a person and still be respectful towards them.

Talibah: Um…I think you just went off.

Ed: Another thing, because we are two individuals, we have our own perspective on co-parenting scenarios. No person is right or wrong.

Talibah: What do you think the most important areas are for us to be on the same page about when it comes to our son? You talked a lot about how we definitely have different perspectives on things, not just co-parenting…life. We’re different people. But, how important do you think it is to be on the same page about certain things, and what are they?

Ed: Respect. I think it’s important that our son doesn’t feel like one parent’s opinion is more important than the other parent’s opinion, because children will play on that. He needs to understand that he needs to have just as much respect for his mother as he has for his father and visa versa. And, when we make a decision as a united front, that’s the law. I think that’s one of the most important things.

Talibah: One of the things that I noticed about you over time was that, not just in relationships, but in other areas, too. It seems like you got to a point where you just wouldn’t argue. You wouldn’t engage in drama. And, that’s kind of been a mantra for us, I think. “We don’t do drama.”

Ed: Uh huh.

Talibah: Now we have had what I call “drama-lite” but not big drawn out theatrical stuff. But, I’m just curious whether that’s accurate. Is that part of your philosophy of how to deal in relationships?

Ed: I agree. I don’t like drama. I try to stay away from it. Personally, I like talking through any issues and dealing with it head on versus letting it linger and blow up because there’s no need to have a bunch of drama. There’s no need. Drama, all it does is tear the relationship apart. And I’ve seen relationships go from being lovey-dovey one minute to non-existent because of drama.

I think I’m at the point now where I feel like life is way too short. We can disagree with each other but yet have respect for each other and try to work through it without drama. And, I think that’s one of the things I’m very proud about in our relationship. I may get on your nerves; you may get on my nerves, but we have figured out a way to communicate with each other to hear each other’s point, not make the other person feel like they’re getting the short end of the stick…and then move forward.

Read Part 1
Read Part 2

Real Families: Meet My Co-Parent, Part 2

This is Part 2 of a 4-part interview with my very own co-parent, Ed Banuel.  In Part 1, he talked about how we became co-parents, how having an absent father impacted him and our challenges as co-parents.  In this second installment, he talks about growing as a father and dating as a single, co-parenting dad.

Talibah: Let’s talk about you as a dad. Where have you stumbled, and how did that help you grow as a parent?

Ed: I stumbled in a lot of areas. Financially, I was stumbling. When you are trying to get things going with your career and get the black cloud over your head of being financially in debt, sometimes, financially you will lack. And I have lacked. It wasn’t that I wasn’t present and there for him, spending time with him, but financially I was lacking across the board.

It took some time to just really figure it out, be really real with myself and figure out how to really provide for my child, how to make a better life for him and for me. I think that took some time for me. I had some challenges with that, but I feel like presently, it’s a better situation. I think a lot of it is just life challenges that you come across and you’ve just got to figure out a way to get through them without impacting your child and your child’s care.

Talibah: The financial stuff is a big one. There were times when I was giving you a hard time about it, but one of the things that stands out for me is that it wasn’t an excuse for you to stop being a dad. You really understood, it seemed, that that’s not all parenting is. A lot of fathers, especially now with the economy the way it is, can’t afford to pay child support and take care of themselves. So, for the mother taking care of the child, that creates an economic burden and sometimes that’s where the conflict occurs.

Ed: I think there may not be the best communication all the time. And, it can be challenging communication when one person feels like they are carrying all the expenses, even though the other person is trying. I’m glad we were able to at least talk about it and I could say, “Hey, this is what I’m able to do. This is what you’re able to do. I don’t want to stop my parental responsibilities, even though this is my situation. And I’m really trying to do the best I can do. This is what I’m able to contribute right now, but I still want to be present and be a father to my kid.”

Truth be told in any relationship, sometimes there is a shift. We were operating as co-parents, but even in a marriage, sometimes a spouse may lose their job or become ill, and someone has to handle more of the responsibilities. I think it comes down to just teamwork, communication and teamwork.

I think that’s what I’m most proud about our relationship. Through it all, and I know we’ve had our battles, but ultimately, we had great communication. I think we’ve operated as a team, and that’s why we are where we are. I think that’s why things have become better, and they will continue to get better.

Talibah: Right. We may not know for a long time how our split affected our son. But, I wonder, how do you imagine he thinks about or experiences our relationship?

Ed: Honestly, this is all he knows right now because he is so young. When we were together, he was what?

Talibah: Actually about 2-1/2.

Ed: So, basically all of his present life, what he can totally process of it, this is all he knows. He knows that daddy has his house, mommy has her house, and he never sees us acting a fool with each other. We show each other respect, even though we may have disagreements, but we’re never disrespectful. And when he is disrespectful to one of us, we make it clear to him that it’s unacceptable. So we try to look like a united front in front of him. I think he’s not really missing a beat by us functioning as co-parents.

Talibah: I think for me, he seems like a happy kid. If he doesn’t know anything else, I think the good thing is that he knows that he is really deeply loved by both of his parents.

Ed: Yeah. He has variety. The only downside of the co-parenting situation as it pertains to him is that kids, they try to connive you. They try to get over on one parent. For example, yesterday I was putting up his electric scooter and he mentioned that he wants to get the 15 mph electric scooter. I said, “No, you’re not.” He said, “Uh huh. Mommy is going to get me one.” I said, “No, she’s not.” And he said, “Uh huh.” I said, “Okay. Well I’m just letting you know that if you keep that tone up, you’re not going to not only ride this scooter, but you’re going to be completely shut down on both households.”

Talibah: He’s lucky I didn’t shut down that one. I don’t want my child riding an electric scooter!  Anyway, let’s talk about dating.

Ed: Uh huh.

Talibah: Fun. Right? I want to know what your experience has been dating as a single co-parenting dad. We have a kind of a relationship that a lot of people aren’t really used to. We communicate regularly. We actually like each other, expect to be involved fully in our child’s life.

Almost a year ago now, you were in a serious relationship and dating someone who actually had kids as well. What was that like?

Ed: I think the biggest challenge I’ve faced in the past with dating is just that they didn’t understand that we’re just friends. It’s no more, no less. I’m not trying to date you and then date my baby’s mom. I think a lot of times people didn’t understand. They misinterpreted our friendship, our relationship, as something more, and it presented some challenges.

I think a lot of times, either A, people, especially if they had children, they didn’t have that type of relationship with their children’s father; and B, if they didn’t have children, that was not the example that they were used to seeing where two co-parents really actually got along, really could talk and communicate with each other without a whole bunch of drama.

Talibah: Right.

Ed: That was some of my challenge. In terms of you dating whomever or I’m dating whomever, I personally feel like we’ve never had issues with that. It’s just a matter of as long as the person respected our child and wasn’t doing anything to hurt or harm our child. I think we both gave each other enough room to manage that, manage our own individual relationships versus stepping in and saying okay this person needs to be doing that, that person needs to be doing that. That wasn’t necessary.

Real Families: Meet My Co-Parent, Part I

I am thrilled to be featuring my son’s father and my co-parent, right here in our “Real Families” column.  I had the pleasure of interviewing him about our co-parenting relationship, his experience as a father who is co-parenting and anything else he thought would be relevant to our readers.  Turns out that he had a lot to say, so this is Part I of a four-part series.

WeParent Family, meet my co-parent, Ed Banuel…

Talibah: Now, we know that my truth is not always the whole truth about the relationship. So, I want to give our readers the opportunity to hear about this co-parenting journey from you. So, how would you describe our co-parenting relationship?

Ed:  Well, I think the best way to describe our co-parenting relationship is by saying that we’ve grown a lot. I feel like we have officially gotten to a place where we are in our groove. It is constantly work in progress, will always be work in progress. I don’t believe any relationship is perfect, but I think we are in a place where we have an understanding of how to make it work for the benefit of our son.

Talibah: What do you see as the biggest issues that we had to work through to get to this point?

Ed:` I think the biggest issue was understanding that we as individuals are constantly evolving. Where I am today at age 34 is not where I was at age 25 or 26. And, even though we both had great parents–I have a great mom; and you have a great mom and dad–there is really no blueprint for how to raise a child and deal with a co-parenting situation. You know? And, the fact that our son was conceived very early on in our relationship posed another set of challenges. So I feel like it was a journey, but I think now we are finally in the place where we know how to communicate and  move through the challenges.

Talibah: So what was that like finding out that someone you’d only known briefly was pregnant with your kid?

Ed: Well, it was scary. It was scary because we didn’t really know each other, I mean, we were kind of forced to have to deal with the good, the bad and the ugly. I was still trying to find my way with my career, working at a 9 to 5 that was a cool job but wasn’t my passion and then also pursuing my film career and just trying to figure out the way to provide for myself. Then add on top of that another level of complexity of finding out I was expecting a child.

I was in a whirlwind, but I felt like you were responsible; and I felt like you were mature enough that we’d definitely be able to work this out and try to give it a good effort to make it work.

Talibah: When I told you, we didn’t just jump in to “Let’s live together, let’s be officially boyfriend and girlfriend, let’s get engaged,” but we did promise each other that we would always work on our friendship and do the best we could to partner in parenting our son.  What was it that made you decide to actually try to build a relationship?

Ed: I felt whenever I had a child, I was going to be there because of the absence of my father. There was never any doubt in my mind that I was going to be there and be committed to raising my child. So, outside of me, of course, really liking you, that was one of the reasons that kept me there. The idea of another man raising my child and me not being there was a big fear of mine. And, that was never going to happen.

Talibah: How do you think you father’s not being there has affected your experience of fatherhood and your growing into the father you are today?

Ed: You know, as a child, you don’t understand why your father or your mother may not be there for you. As an adult, I realized it didn’t have anything to do with me or my sister. It was a personal decision that he made, and there were some issues that he has to resolve with himself.

Seeing my mom raising me, her endless dedication, commitment, her sacrifice…She played the role of a mother and father; she had no other choice. That was instilled in me at an early age, and as a result, I felt like I had to without question show the same level of commitment to my son.

Talibah: You say she didn’t have a choice, but she did. Your father made a different choice. Why do you think so many fathers in particular are absent from their children, absent from their children’s lives?

Ed: I think a lot of it is not having examples. Life burdens just kind of take over, and we feel like we can’t provide for our child if X, Y and Z is not in place and not right. I just feel like a lot of fathers don’t have positive examples of what a good father is. And, half the time, it’s not just about money, because you can be a very wealthy man and not be a good father.  It’s about that relationship you have with your child and the time you spend nurturing that child. So, I think we don’t have a lot of examples.  A lot of African-American males don’t have that person in our life, that father in our life, to spend the time to nurture and guide us though life’s challenges. So, in turn, we do the same when it comes down to our children.

Talibah: But you made a different choice, and I’m glad. Now, we haven’t always been in our groove. What were some of the more difficult times? What did you have to figure out to get through them?

Ed: I think a lot just came with time. The older I get, I realize, okay, it’s not just about me pursuing my career. I have to be present with my child. It’s about spending time to mentor him, to raise him, to be present with him when he’s with me.

Talibah: What about examples of some challenges that we came across in our co-parenting relationship and what you learned from them that might be helpful to other people.

Ed: I think the key challenge was communication. We have different ways of operating and different ways of handling his situations. For example, you tend to write things down and plan ahead, very far ahead at times. I tend to play it on a day-to-day weekly basis.  So, I think the biggest one was just figuring out a happy medium in our communication where you get what you need, I ultimately get what I need and above all, where our son wins.

Talibah: Let’s talk about you as a dad. Where have you stumbled, and how did that help you grow as a parent?

Read Part 2 of this interview to find out Ed’s answer.

Fatherhood Freestyle: Not Your Average Baby Daddy, Part I

My mother raised me and my older sister by herself. We had little means, lived in public housing, and like all parents, she always wanted and expected more for us. Throughout my childhood, I observed my mother as she ripped and ran, worked up to three jobs simultaneously, and developed no healthy romantic relationships (that I can remember, anyway). So as a kid, I made a commitment to myself that I was never going to be anybody’s “baby daddy.” Oh, how the universe has a way of telling us that we are so not in control. Well, kinda.

At 31, I am a single dad, but my story has a twist –a twist that has statistically become more common these days. I am the ballet and gymnastics dad, a man in a room full of middle-aged suburban moms who drive minivans. I set up play dates, I help other parents (usually moms) pick up their kids, and I arrange that expensive, draining, and anticlimactic birthday party every year. Hell, I even brought my daughter to get her first pedicure and sports bra….and I did this all as a full student struggling to make ends meet. Yup, these experiences as the custodial father of a nine-year-old girl have truly given me insight into my mother’s life as the prototypical single mother.

Although I am extremely comfortable in my role as a single father, there is one question that I am inevitably asked and still makes me squeamish: “So, what happened to her mother?” And, of course, there are always those who declare, “I do not see how a mother could leave her child. A little girl needs her mother.” Now, as a PhD psychologist with a dissertation on and specialized training in nontraditional parenting and youth development, I have plenty to say to those who truly believe daughters need their mothers more than their fathers, but I will refrain from doing so for the time being. Instead, I’ll tell the story about how I became a single dad, and why the process has made me a better man.

Imagine a 20-year-old black male studying abroad in the Dominican Republic with one more year of college. Now imagine this guy in what was supposed to be a fling with an American woman. That woman becomes pregnant, and now this man is less than a year away from becoming a “baby daddy”. That wasn’t me, only because I refused to be the average “baby daddy.” The rest is definitely me. However, my plan to avoid being labeled had one huge snag — I wasn’t in love with her. I told myself I would do anything short of marrying her in order to keep my promise to myself, even if it meant being in what I knew would be an unsatisfying relationship that was destined to deteriorate over time. So, she graduated a semester early, moved to the South where I was working on my Bachelors degree, and we shacked up while I took classes. A few months later, our baby was born, a beautiful little girl with an instant bond with her daddy.

I must admit I was a great father, but a horrible boyfriend. I was a willing participant in multiple “minor indiscretions,” and I was dismissive and uncaring toward her. I graduated soon thereafter; and even though I was not happy, I dragged her to a different state so I could attend graduate school. Our relationship suffered for a year or so and shortly after being laid off, she finally decided she’d had enough. She lacked emotional and social support, and she wanted to “be around family and friends” back north (her voiced desire to be closer to “family” is still quite ironic to me). Ever the negotiator, I convinced her that our then two-year-old would be better served by remaining with me. After all, I had purchased a home, my daughter was attending a great Spanish immersion preschool, and we were becoming part of the community. Furthermore, we both knew my daughter had a stronger bond with me. The feelings of elation and freedom I experienced as she walked to her car to make that long trip back home remain salient to this day. Also, I will never forget my daughter (what appeared to me to be) gleefully waving goodbye as her mother drove off in a packed car, only to turn to me and say “Daddy, I hungry” as I closed the house door. At that point, it seemed clear to me that my daughter could still have a “normal life” with me as the primary parent. In fact, I’d argue that she is much better off not having to grow up in a house where unhappy and unhealthy relationships are normalized and modeled. It was just my daughter and me, and I was excited to be the best dad I could be.

It is now 2009, and I cringe as I sit here writing about how I was in the relationship with my daughter’s mother. I have apologized, and sometimes I believe she forgives me. At other times, I am sure she hasn’t. After countless hours of reflecting over the past seven years, I have learned so much about myself — the good, the bad, and yes, the ugly. However, I believe I am a much better person, father, and partner because of it. And my daughter? Well, she is a well-adjusted, self-possessed, and opinionated “normal” nine-year-old girl.

As I navigate through single fatherhood, I realize it has been anything but easy. However, I am happy I can tell this story and confidently inform the naysayers that little girls need their fathers too.

Fatherhood Freestyle: When Do You Introduce “The Next”?

I’ve been single since 2000, and in that time my kids, current ages 26 and 19, have been introduced to a total one of my girlfriends! Have I only had one girlfriend? Heck no! But, only one made the cut to actually meet my kids. Let me clarify that. Early on I decided that there would be no revolving door of dates/women/boos or spoogies that my children would come to know while I searched for the next great love of my life. I remembered movies like Claudine, Kramer vs Kramer and even The Parent Trap. No one was meeting my kids unless they were someone–someone special, someone who would be around for the long haul.

I remembered my own childhood with my mom’s string of suitors…”This is Mr. Joe,..This is Harold…This is Uncle Bobby – who was clearly no relative I’d ever seen. I remembered that they all were of no significance to me; they were just the one at the time. I did form attachments to some, the ones who appeared to take a genuine interest in me, and who weren’t too creepy. But, even that became something for me to temper and be cautious about, because just ‘cause I liked them didn’t mean that my mom would keep them around. So, I’d meet and greet, superficially interact and watch to see how long they would last. And, I resolved that my kids would not have that experience.

The reactions to my position were varied, much to my surprise, ranging from agreement,–“I fully get that and support you”; to not so subtle manipulation–“I’ll know you love me when you introduce me to your kids”; to flat out rejection–“I’m not going to be second place behind your children.” Keep it moving, Sister! These experiences were confirmation for me that I’d made the right choice. I needed to keep these women at bay until I met Ms. Right, the one who would be my next wife.

So six years went by before I met and attempted to introduce my kids to a woman who met my criteria. On several levels I thought it was time, six years had gone by, several candidates had come and gone, and I was ready to broach the subject. In fact, my son had given me permission two years back saying, “ Dad, if you and Mom aren’t going to get back together, I think you should date; ‘cause I want you to be happy. In fact, how about her?” as he pointed to some attractive woman at the ATM. My son, gotta love him. So, when I met X who I felt was special and could be the one, I decided to act. I called my ex first to inform her of my decision and put her on alert for possible reactions from the kids. I also felt this was the right thing to do out of respect. I didn’t owe this and I wasn’t asking for permission, but this was a decision that would affect our children for whom we both cared. I then told both of my kids I had met someone and wanted them to meet her. They agreed, and we arranged to meet for dinner.

As the time drew closer, and I called my son to tell him I was on my way to pick him up, he admitted to me he was a little anxious about this and asked me to take my time. Five minutes later he called to say he was ok and ready. He was obviously nervous at first but appeared to loosen up and relax. On the other hand, my daughter, who’d agreed to meet us at the restaurant, never showed up. She didn’t respond to calls or text messages, and it was months before we came to some resolution on this matter. Without going into the details, it was clear that time alone hadn’t healed all wounds.

The incident validated my fears about how my kids would accept being introduced to another woman. But are my fears valid? I accept that the introduction of a third party to children after a divorce can be and usually is a slippery slope, but does delaying contact help? My rationale had been to delay and wait until there was someone significant. But another reason was my own fear of screwing up the delicate peace and appearance of balance I had with my children, as I lived outside of ‘their’ house.

I don’t believe I was wrong for waiting and limiting my kids’ exposure to the ups and downs of my dating experiences. But,I wonder if I also created a ‘that’s my daddy monster’ in the process. I’m beginning to feel that normalizing the reality of mom and dad having other people in their lives through discussion and maybe even addressing it in counseling, if that is appropriate, could help.

In case you hadn’t figured it out yet, I’m no expert; I don’t have THE answer. In fact, I’m looking for as much dialogue and input as I can get. See, I’ve met the next Ms. Right and I…well, you get the picture. Please offer thoughts, opinions, comments, I’ll even take bad advice…

What/when do you think is the right way to introduce ”The Next”?

Fatherhood Freestyle: Parenting Time–Quality vs. Quantity

As some of you know I parent from abroad. My children live in Champaign, Illinois and I live in Kyoto, Japan. I visit them about four times a year (weeks at a time) and they spend summers with me in Kyoto. It would be an understatement to say that our time is limited, but it would be equally untrue to suggest that we do not make the best out of the time that we have.

By default I have become the “fun parent.” I don’t say this as a slight to their mother, (she does a lot of fun things with them as well) but because I see my children during holidays and school breaks we tend to take trips to interesting places, visit relatives, and get our leisure on to the fullest. When I get together with my children I am generally all theirs. Even though they are getting older (12 and 10) we do all kinds of silly stuff together like scaring each other when we walk out of public bathrooms and playing hide and seek in bookstores and malls. And of course I am the biggest kid in the group with my daughter sometimes urging me to pipe it down and chill.

But we didn’t always have this much fun. Earlier in their lives I was working hard as an Assistant Professor trying to acquire tenure. The pressures of work insured that I was not always available. My kids would want to play and I would either be deep into a book or transfixed by the computer screen. In order to cope I had to develop a fairly rigid routine that unfortunately did not always include a lot of playtime and or opportunities for bonding. Our weekdays were straightforward: wake up, breakfast, school, homework, dinner, bath, sleep—wake up repeat. On weekends we might head to a park, catch a movie, or visit friends, but because of the nature of my work I was not always there and my kids knew it.

In recent years my work situation has improved. The downside, however, is that I now live in a different hemisphere and see my children far less than when I was struggling to get my career on track. I now have “more” time for them but “less” time with them and it doesn’t always feel good. I often wish for the days when we were rushing off to school in the morning or I was trying to make dinner and check homework at the same time.

But what does it really mean to have more time versus less? I mean what is time anyway other than what we make it? My current co-parenting arrangement has taught me that quality beats quantity every time. Now let’s be clear I still yearn and hope for more time, but the consequences of my own actions have forced me to work with what I have. Sure there is less professional pressure, but there is also less opportunity to parent in the flesh.

Yet my circumstances have taught me presence. When I spend time with my children I cherish our exchanges in ways that I never did when I had a more traditional arrangement. I take a deeper and more profound interest in every word that spills from my kid’s mouths. We play more, talk more, connect more and enjoy the fullness of our time. I tend to be less restrictive and far more available physically and emotionally. Distance has made me more reflective and meditative about parenting and has assisted me in providing more substantive guidance and direction about life. Again this not in anyway to suggest that I am better at parenting than their mom, but only to underscore that my circumstances have forced me to find the upside for what might prove to others to be pretty bad situation. In other words value the time you have and never underestimate a mean game of hide and seek at Macys.

Fatherhood Freestyle: Tales from the Fortress

Not long after my divorce and the early adventures of my initial separation, I came to live in the first place of my own. I was in the lower 9^th Ward of New Orleans, a place previously known as one of the poorest and most segregated sections of the city. After Katrina, it became an icon, a symbol of all that went wrong with New Orleans and the federal response to that catastrophe. But that’s another story for another blog. Believe it or not, my house was a dream, a two bedroom shotgun, completely renovated inside, polished hardwood floors throughout, ceiling fans, exposed brick fireplaces, 12-foot ceilings and 6-foot windows with wood slat shutters. On the outside, old faded wood, chipping paint, just the appearance you’d want in that neighborhood so as not to scream, “Come and break in!” to my not so gainfully employed neighbors. Inside I felt safe, at peace and for the first time since my divorce, really comfortable when I came home from work.

But the drive home from anywhere was always depressing; the 9^th Ward was, and by all accounts, remains one of the bleakest parts of New Orleans. As I drove home I would see the poverty and the kids hanging out, sitting on porches or abandoned cars, just waiting to see what would happen next, who would happen next. It was also on the opposite edge of the city from the rest of my life– work, friends and the better attended parts of the city. All of these facts contributed to my new digs having very infrequent visitors. Other than my son on weekends, (my daughter was away at college) there was seldom a reason to dirty a dish or glass other than my own.

So, I gave my place a name it deserved, one I found fitting in many ways: the Fortress of Solitude. For those of you not blessed with geekdom in your childhoods, this was the name of Superman’s home in the North Pole. It’s where he would retreat to ponder problems and reflect on his experiences. It was his sanctuary. It was in this sanctuary of mine that I truly began to grow up. Never mind the fact that I was already 40ish, had been married for 19 years and had been a part of raising two kids.

During my childhood I was ‘forced to mature’ in some ways by my mother’s chaotic life style, as a single parent with an off and on drug abuse problem and by the absence of positive male role models, notable exceptions being my Uncle John, and one of my mom’s suitors who took the time to teach me about manhood and respect and chivalry. It wasn’t until I was in my twenties that I realized that he was a Heroin addict; I thought he was just a sleepy guy. In some ways, my circumstances of caring for and co-parenting with my mother in managing our house and raising my younger sister robbed me of a ‘normal’ childhood. The irony is that it also set me up for an abnormal adulthood, a point of contention I couldn’t see until my time at ‘the Fortress’.

When I was married, I had in my wife a co-scapegoat, someone to share in the blame for failures, unmet responsibilities and problems in general. I could point out her lack of support for my not meeting a deadline at work, or my not realizing my full potential in my career. But when I lived alone, one fact kept popping up; I was responsible. I was responsible for getting up on time. For washing, ironing and keeping up with my clothes, keeping food in the house. For remembering to pay the bills in a timely fashion ‘cause when you don’t, the power, water, cable and phone go OFF!

It’s easier to point the finger at anyone besides ourselves for our problems and lack of progress. It requires someone other than ourselves to blame and their willingness to engage in the debate with us. They don’t even have to fully accept blame, just be a willing participant in the dialogue! Living on my own exposed many of my issues and started me on the path to identifying and working through them. I feel it’s helped me in my relationship with my ex and been invaluable in helping me to be a better parent to my kids. And here, 9 years later, I’m clearly still a work in progress (as I’m sure many would be too happy to point out!) but progress is being made.

So here’s a question for you Super-boys and Super-girls:  How many of you have spent/ could benefit from some time in “the Fortress”?

Next Page »