What No One Ever Tells About Being A Single Dad

It’s been a while since I’ve written, but my heart has been on this web site. Much has transpired, which I want to share as I have time. But I came across a listing of things that someone not being a divorced father likely would not realize. As I read them I picked out those that apply to me and put my own description.

  • People will give undue credit to your ex.
    People assume only mothers shop, cook, clean, and discipline.
  • Everyone will have an opinion about you and raising your kids alone.
    People are people and they will talk and have opinions on your failed marriage. They will lay blame, even without knowing the facts. You’ll get looks from the mothers at school people at church and everyone in between. Regardless of the truth, you may as well have a nun walking behind you ringing a bell and chanting ‘shame’ with your every step.
  • People will stare when you act silly with the kids.
    As a new single father, I was more aware of those around me and watching me. We usually ate a home, but when we ate out or went to a park or any activity, I suddenly became aware of other men alone with children. I wondered if they were single, and if other people looked and wondered at me being alone with mine. We did some awfully silly things occasionally, things usually only children would do or that only parents would do at home. One sunny afternoon we bought fried chicken and side dishes, gathered up plates utensils and glasses, and took at portable table and chairs to a highway overpass. We set up on the overpass directly above the traffic, table cloth and all, and had lunch. My son and daughter didn’t bat an eye. Cars honked and people stared. It was memorable.
  • It doesn’t pay to hide your feelings.
    No one told me that during separation and divorce I would be an emotional trainwreck and be in denial about it being permanent. I lied to everyone about how happy I was. If I had the capacity to be honest with myself back then, things might be different. Or perhaps not. When in the throws of the hardest time of your life, you have to experience everything yourself. Humility is necessary to be a better dad and a better you.
  • Being a divorced parent may even make you a better parent.
    Counterintuitive, but true. If you’re a divorced dad, whether with split custody or just visiting hour rights, you get a break from your kids. A reprieve from the kids makes you more appreciative when you are with them. (That’s a trite way to say that every waking hour from your kids you’re still thinking of them and planning your next time with them.) This in turn translates to being a more patient, forgiving, and caring parent. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, adoring, caring, loving, tender, affectionate, sympathetic, attached, devoted ….
  • Exhaustion becomes your middle name.
    Work, church, planning, cooking, shopping, and preparing for your kids’ visit, then being with them, and all the emotion of this new life takes a tole.
  • You won’t be lauded as a superhero.
    No one ever told me I was a “superhero single dad” or anything even close to it. Only single moms to get that title. You have to be proud of yourself in isolation.
  • Your social life will inevitably take a hit.
    Because my ex was a stay-at-home mom, and because women are naturally more social, nearly all our dating and family activities were planned by her. When we separated, suddenly my married friends were gone. My social life skidded to a halt. I hate little time to date, especially because I had my children every other weekend. I might have been able to do things with some of my old buddies, but I’d be taking them away from their wives. And I was focused on my children so there was little time for a social life. It was years before I had my first serious relationship beyond a few dates.
  • Sometimes, doing it all on your own kind of sucks.
    You’re doing it all on your own–holding down a job that can work with your children’s schedule, cooking, cleaning, school work, disciplining, preparing lunches, doctor and dentist visits (I chose to do them as much as I could (one more excuse to see them), and trying to find someone to date who doesn’t care that you have kids, and more importantly, that can appreciate that your children are your focus now and will still be important in the future.
  • You won’t be able to stop thinking about the kids when your ex has them.
    When I first separated from my wife, the toughest part for me was that feeling that I was no longer there to protect my kids. I had lost control as a father. When I questioned once my ex why she was allowing something that we never allowed for our children when we were married, I simply got a curt response that I have no say in what she does when she has the children. Every night when my ex and I were married, I read to the kids, I checked in on them, I made sure I knew they were safe. Not being there to ensure their safety was pure anguish.
  • It’s the hardest job you’ll ever have.
    No one ever tells you that few care about how hard you have to work. But you’ll feel really proud of yourself for managing everything. It’s a lot like what they say in the Peace Corps: “It’s the toughest job you’ll ever love.”
  • But it’s also the most rewarding.
    It may sound corny, but it’s true. If you put your heart into it, life as a single father is the most rewarding experience you will ever have. But you may not realize it for years. You will grow, and if you do it right, your children will be blessed by you doing your best and remaining a significant part of their lives. You may be divorced from your ex, but don’t divorce yourself from your children. Children need a good man and father in their lives.

Men’s Rights Activists

I sit here alone again tonight, missing my school-age children, wondering what they’re doing without me. I count the days. Four more until I get to see them again, but only for a few hours after school. And because of a quirk of events, I haven’t seen them for seven. 11 days between visits. A third of a month. Not a powerful way to be a father. My children are fatherless.

Listening to this TED talk reminds me I’m not alone. I want to be an MRA, a men’s rights activist.

Dads, kids, and love

Last weekend was my weekend, spent with my two youngest. It was one of those “down” weekends when I felt like the loser father that I am, missing the long quality unpressured hours I used to have with my children and being at the crossroads of their lives.

A few days before I had received some leftover T-shirts from work, some extra large ones that would be good only as pajama shirts. I gave them to my kids, with extras for my other kids and my ex. An hour later my son sent me a video of him curling up in the shirt like a crab, legs and arms coming out of the arms holes, causing laughs and giggles from my other children and my ex. I felt like a sad fly on the wall of a family life and home I used to be part of.

But here I sit a few days later, remembering two things my kids did.  Perhaps I do have an effect on my children.

Over the past few months, when there’s not much time left in an evening visit and their homework is done, we’ll turn to Amazon Prime and watch the next episode of the TV series Monk. It gives us a good laugh as we sit around my computer monitor.

As we start up an episode, my 16-year-old daughter gets up out of her chair, cuddles up next to me, and says,” Dad, I sure love you!” I returned the expression of love, impressed that she’d make that extra effort.

Before she did this, my 14-year-old son, while making popcorn for the show, said several times, “I love you, Dad!”

I can’t think of what elicited these comments.

These thoughts came because this evening as I got home to my empty apartment, I turned on my favorite podcast while I pulled together a bite to eat. It’s mostly a political commentary, but this fellow often ends with some uplifting spiritual, family, or positive comment. He starts telling about fishing with his five-year-old son last weekend. They were gone for several hours. They caught nothing. As they wrapped up, his son said, “Dad! I want to be a great fisherman like you someday.”

His son was saying he loved his dad and loved his time.