The notion that any dad is better than no dad is nonsense.
Parenting solo is a tough challenge, no doubt.
However, psychologists agree that boys do not require constant male guidance to grow up confident and healthy. In fact, a dad living at home who is a poor role model typically does more harm than good. If a biological dad is unfailingly neglectful, physically or emotionally abusive or just plain unloving, his son is most likely better off without his dad’s influence.
So what can a single mother raising a boy alone do to ensure her son gets what he needs? For starters, trust that your beliefs and actions will guide you toward success.
Here are some other tips to keep in mind:
Adjust your attitude, if necessary. Strive to resolve your issues about men and relationships, especially if you became a single mom under excruciating circumstances – like if your son’s father left without warning or explanation. When you look at your son and see his biological dad’s face, it’s OK to get a little emotional. After all, if your ex gave you anything of value, you’re looking at him. Tell your son early and often how much you love him no matter how you feel about his biological dad.
Banish any “man of the house” notions about your son. Your goal is to guide your son toward manhood. Right now, however, your son cannot assume responsibility for things adult men are supposed to do. Your son is not your confidant, knight in shining armor or rescuer. Correct privately and quickly any adult who asks your son if he’s taking good care of Mommy or wrongly confers “man of the house” responsibilities on him.
Your son’s only job right now is to be a kid.
Set limits early. Sons of single moms are not at greater risk for getting into serious trouble as adults. Don’t believe the dire predictions you may hear. Believe in yourself as a strong and confident parent.
Focus on your son and his needs. As parents, our only realistic option is to control our own behavior.
Boys do act differently than girls. Dealing effectively with bursts of typical boy behavior, such as pushing and shoving on the playground, are simply a part of your everyday parenting responsibilities.
Teach your son your values. But let him express these values uniquely. Point out positive qualities in men you see on a day-to-day basis. Emphasize the importance of treating others with kindness, as well as being helpful and considerate. Discuss examples of bullying in age-appropriate ways. Point out why such behaviors are contrary to your family values and simply wrong.
Make it clear what’s appropriate behavior in your home. Of course, hitting, punching and kicking are against family rules. Discuss alternatives to unwanted behavior so that your son can make more appropriate choices next time. These will not be one-time conversations.
Spanking may work for the moment, but it sends the powerful message that acting out your feelings is acceptable, if you’re the one in charge.
Stress using words rather than actions to convey feelings. Model this behavior by using words to describe your own feelings, rather than slamming the car door or stomping angrily around the house. Make sure your son understands that it’s not OK to shut people out. Let your son cry openly with no discouragement or judgment.
Keep talking. As your son grows older, challenges increase because adolescent boys fear revealing their confusion and vulnerability. Our culture still admires “real men” who fear weakness and strive to solve problems on their own. This is why solo single moms – who don’t have another parent to partner with in raising kids – are often advised to leave their sons alone or let them shoot some hoops. We’re assured that he’ll be fine and urged not to hover.
Resist the impulse to shrug your shoulders and walk away. This is exactly the time to let your son know that you’re always available for conversation. Talking openly – sharing kid-friendly details - about what goes on in your own life makes your son more inclined to say what’s on his mind rather than silently sulk.
Source: http://health.usnews.com/wellness/for-parents/articles/2017-03-21/how-solo-single-moms-can-raise-confident-healthy-sons
How I have planned a different kind of Christmas, post-marriage breakup, apart from my young sons
When I finally agreed to let my soon-to-be-ex husband have our children this Christmas, my next decision was not to stay home. Somehow it's more depressing to attempt the familiar Christmas minus the main players than to overhaul the whole thing. Very kindly, several friends invited me. My friend India seemed like the best fit because, like me, she is deranged about Christmas, always going the whole hog and then some – I didn't want to make Christmas low-key and gloomy just because I'm getting divorced. And she has a big, messy, loving family that is by no means without its divorces, separations and step-parents. It seemed the only way I could face Christmas without my own family and not feel like the tragic spinster aunt for whom everyone feels a bit sorry (I cannot bear pity, and Christmas has brought out the dreaded head tilt in even the most well-intentioned loved ones).
I'll be Skyping my children throughout Christmas, but I am tearfully sad not to be able to pour the sherry for Santa (and later drink it), be there when bulging stockings are discovered, try again in vain to sell sprouts as an idea, pull crackers then use sticky tape to make the paper crowns small enough to stay on their little heads, and cuddle up in front of Wallace & Gromit. Being away from one's children at Christmas feels very wrong and it never occurred to me that I might one day experience it. My parents, despite separating when I was tiny, always spent Christmas Day together and it's only now that I realise the gesture (not without its behind-the-scenes tensions, I expect) was meaningful to me. I hope one day to achieve the same. I'd like our boys to remember Christmas as a family occasion, not a splintered gathering spread over 250 miles.
But for this year at least, our kids will celebrate two Christmases, that modern ritual disingenuously and guiltily sold to children as a treat, when in fact it's often the only tolerable way for separated parents to cope. I sat my children down in November and asked if they'd like to spend Christmas Day with Granny, Grandad and Daddy; and celebrate another on New Year's Eve with me. After I assured them that Father Christmas had been given both addresses, they agreed almost too readily. They seem to realise that two whole days instead of a fragmented and forced one is a better deal.
But even when celebrating apart, it's vital that parents remain a team. It's important not to engage in one-upmanship when it comes to presents, say. I can see how easily it might happen, but that way madness lies. As the mother (a single one with a drastically reduced cashflow, at that), I'm more likely to be the annoying one who gives much-needed new slippers and pants, while my ex would instinctively be the superstar who buys them touchscreen tablets. So if boring and underwhelming gifts must be bought, then we're in it together. Everything not from Father Christmas will be tagged from both of us, whether it's a toothbrush or an action figure.
There's no denying that the practicalities of Christmas are less fun post-separation. I can't get the decorations down because the loft has no ladder (my husband used to risk a broken neck in a feat of acrobatics). Instead, I hurriedly bought a pile of cheap supermarket decorations and decorated the tree alone, as though it were just another chore rather than a meaningful family ritual. The next day, our children's Christmas concert – always a soggy-necked display of intense love and pride – wasn't shared by my husband, and I felt sad and guilty to be there alone. At home, I keep staring at the flatpack box containing table football and fooling myself that successful assembly is achievable, despite the fact that just holding an Allen key has historically caused something akin to a breakdown in me. Perhaps most trickily, the financial cost of Christmas is obscene – even when exercising restraint – and post-separation, with a terrifyingly expensive divorce looming, I've had to budget very carefully, buying a couple of presents a week over several months.
But even for me, bereft of my family, the arrangement is not without some perks. I haven't had to buy gifts for my in-laws (it's an unfair state of affairs that when a woman marries, she is instantly assumed to be responsible for all birthdays and celebrations on both sides of the family), and any presents under the tree will be opened Hughes-style in the afternoon, not the morning as my ex's family insisted. Most cheeringly, I will get to see my new partner even though, a few Christmases ago, another relationship seemed an impossibility. He's an important reminder that Christmas doesn't end with the end of a marriage, it just changes. And if, like me, you truly love the festive season, you'll have an unwavering belief that the best gifts are always yet to come.
Source: https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2012/dec/21/christmas-without-children-post-divorce
The other day my eight-year-old son caught me dancing in the bathroom. 'Not that you’d ever want to, but if you did that in a nightclub, you’d probably catch a man.' Hilarity filled the house, as it so often does. His daily pint-sized views on life generally guarantee that.
I’m pondering on our relationship and I reckon it’s pretty close. We’re bound by a mutual love of ‘Miranda‘, ‘Friends‘, ‘Impractical Jokers’ and absurd gags, all of which guarantee fun times aplenty (he recently divulged that his book of choice on ‘Desert Island Discs‘ would be a joke book – that’s my boy).
We are, of course, glued together by blood and the searing love that springs from it; and, for better or worse, we live this out against a backdrop of being a single-parent family. In this ‘buddy-free’ system, teamwork reigns supreme. As a result, we have what I’d say is a pretty tight mother-and-son unit.
But like many parents, these times are frequently punctuated by self-doubt as to whether I’m doing it right. ‘He hasn’t lost as many teeth as his friends: am I feeding him enough to ensure he’s growing properly?’ or ‘Is he happy at school or could he be happier if he went somewhere else?’.
Of course my other friends worry too, but for me the usual parenting angst is compounded by the fact that as well as being a single mum, I have bipolar too (mixed affective state, or ‘agitated depression’).
There are times when parenting is hard for everybody, even when you’re hunting in pairs. I get that. But parenting alone can be even harder. I’ve done both and I think the single variety is infinitely more arduous than the coupled version.
Of course, single-parenting comes in many ‘flavours’ and some people are single parents and love it (and would say they’re psychologically healthier as a result of being uncoupled). And not every single parent suffers psychologically as a result of rearing their children on their own.
But when you’re not always feeling 100 per cent, mental health-wise, it can be hard to feel that single parenting is working on any level.
When I’m having a ‘wobble’ – a zinging and terrifying mix of depression and agitation – every mundane task seems gargantuan and every decision I have to make on my own seems petrifying (I rang the milkman in a panic to cancel my milk during my last episode in case it built up on my doorstep and overran my house, such was my anxiety). I start drowning in a sea of excess responsibility and lone decision-making and wonder if this’ll be the last time I come up for air.
Last year, Harry Potter author JK Rowling talked about how, when she was a single mother, she was so depressed that she considered suicide, but was saved by thoughts of her daughter. When I’m not well, I understand where she’s coming from. Although he doesn’t know it, my son locks me into life.
But perhaps the thing I miss the most is the support that would be there for my son when I’m ill. I wish someone else who cares for him as much as I do was there to scoop him up and say, ‘Come on, shall we go to the park?’ so that I can fight tears and demons for a while without feeling there’s the possibility of handing him a sad memory to look back on in the future.
As it goes, he is amazingly compassionate, especially when I’m not well. Despite me insisting that I’m not his responsibility, that I can look after myself and that this ill phase will pass, he tells me it’s OK, that he wants to be there for me (‘because I love you’) and that there’s nothing that his solution of a hug, a box of tissues and a glass of milk poured out into a Lego tumbler can’t solve.
But of course, I still worry about him. I worry about the fine line between his compassion and adaptive behaviour – having to learn how to be that way because, let’s face it, he has no choice.
Statistically, it’s been shown that there’s a strong association between single parenting and poor mental health:
Single parenting is associated with poor mental health
Before you even take into account any pre-existing mental health issues, single parenting is associated with poor mental health. A 2007 study by Crozier, Butterworth and Rogers found that single mums like me are significantly more likely to have a moderate to severe mental disability, like me.
In fact, the study shows that prevalence of mental health issues in single mums is almost 30 per cent (i.e. one-third of us) compared to partnered mothers (around 15 per cent).
The study cites the main reasons for single mums having an increased risk of poor mental health as decreased household income, increased financial hardship and a perceived lack of social support.
Dr Ian Drever, consultant psychiatrist at The Priory Woking, says, 'I’m struck by what a lonely place single parenting can be, and relentlessly hard work. I had a single mum tell me very recently, "I’m tired of being strong… I just want someone to look after me".'
Poor mental health is associated with an increased likelihood of divorce
Not only that, but if you have a mental health condition, you are far more likely to divorce than if you don’t. A multi-national meta-study of mental disorders, marriage and divorce, published in 2011, looked at 18 mental disorders and found an increased likelihood of divorce, ranging from a 20 per cent increase to a staggering 80 per cent increase in the divorce rate.
Major depression and addictions were the highest factors, while post-traumatic stress disorder was also significant.
Single-parenting can increase rates of child mental health issues
It seems we all worry about our children’s mental health – research carried out by Action for Children in 2015 found that UK parents are more likely to worry about their children’s mental health than any other health issue – some 40 per cent said their children’s emotional wellbeing was a primary concern (47 per cent for mothers). But single mums like me may have more reason to be concerned than others.
Figures from the Office for National Statistics (ONS) have found that children from single-parent families are twice as likely to suffer from mental health problems as those living with married parents – and it is boys whose parents had split up that had the highest rate of childhood mental illness.
The figures showed that one-fifth of those living with a divorced, separated or widowed parent suffered from at least one mental disorder compared to just eight per cent of boys living with married parents.
I also worry about bipolar in relation to my son – on my bad days I focus on his one in 10 chance of developing it, on my better days I figure he’s 90 per cent likely to be OK.
Catch 22
So it seems like it’s a case of catch 22. I had depression, which I know contributed to my divorce, and, now I’m a single mum, the risk of me becoming mentally unwell has risen. I’m not surprised – raising my son pretty much single-handedly, certainly making around 95 per cent of the decisions about his life on my own, hoping he’s OK whilst wondering how I’m going to be financially OK, does little to garner positive mental health.
It is utterly emotionally and physically exhausting, especially when I’m unwell (I’m just recovering from a two-week episode). Some people may find it a breeze, but for me, being a single mum can at times feel like swimming in my pyjamas with rocks in the pockets, drowning not waving and with no-one around to fish me out.
There isn’t enough help out there for single parents
The fact is, I don’t feel there’s enough help out there for single parents, and especially not single parents who have mental health issues.
Even though estimates suggest that around 50 per cent of parents with a severe and enduring mental illness live with one or more children under 18 (around 17,000 UK children and young people), the support for single parents like me just isn’t around. My local mental health trust doesn’t have anything. When I asked if there was a parenting group, all my psychiatrist could offer me was a gardening course.
Even mental health charities don’t seem to have anything I can tap into. I very much rely on other single-mum friends, who don’t have mental health problems, but understand the pressures of raising a child alone – that goes some way to helping. I’ve been trying to put feelers out in a bid to start my own group locally (with some help for those times when I’m sinking), but I’ve not got very far.
Gingerbread recently launched its Single Parents Decide campaign to shine a light on the issues that matter most to single parents as the May general election comes closer. And these include making childcare affordable and helping single parents take home a decent income.
I think there also ought to be a political commitment to help single parents with mental illness, whether it’s depression, OCD, eating disorders, bipolar, schizophrenia or anything else that makes single parenting even more arduous than it already is. I can’t help feeling that we are a whole subclass whose status of single-parenting whilst battling chronic ill health is like a societal powder keg waiting to explode.
The trouble is, I don’t think many politicians want to touch the topic of single-parenting, at least not in a positive way. For the most part, we aren’t economically powerful (and many think we are even an economic drain – a survey by the National Institute of Economic and Social Research once found that one-third of ex-wives end up in poverty after divorce. We are a group that often needs help).
So why bother trying to court our votes? Add mental health into the mix and we are, arguably, so niche as to be arcane. Mental health is, for politicians, marginally more fashionable than it used to be, single-parenting most definitely isn’t.
But the consequences of leaving single parents with mental health issues unsupported may be catastrophic, both for parents and children alike. As we approach May 7, I’ll be interested to see how mental health issues feature in the manifestos of the main political parties.
In the meantime – like many single parents with mental illness – I live in the hope that I’m doing it right, that my son will be fortified rather than felled by living with me and that, sooner or later, we’ll get the extra support that, as a family unit, we really need.
Source: https://www.psychologies.co.uk/sanity-and-single-motherhood
An American mother has written an essay for online magazine Slate about her personal experience of co-parenting – and she's been inundated with negative feedback.
Mother of two and law professor Lara Bazelon, wrote ‘Confessions of a Part-Time Mom” and admitted that although divorce hits hard when young children are involved, part-time parenting has, “Turned into a strange kind of gift.”
And readers have lost their mind, calling her selfish, with one writing:
“I’m sure the author got the memo and it sounds like the divorce was much about having ‘me’ time.”
And another posting:
Or maybe that she is just supremely selfish…not a good idea when you are a parent… so I suppose it’s good she is only a part-time parent for her kids’ sake.”
Or this rather sarcastic comment from Joanie:
"Well, just so long as YOU're happy, that's what counts. That, of course, makes you believe that your kids must be happy too. Because if YOU loved it but your kids didn't, what would you do? That would be awkward. So, they MUST love it. And it must be the best thing for them. Because you like it. Good."
So apparently, although divorce may not even be your choice, a mother is not supposed to feel happy when she is away from her children but instead sit and wither away in pain, missing them every, single, second.
In her essay, Lara described the initial pain of shuttling her children between her and her ex-husband:
“Adding to my initial anger, disappointment, and shame about the end of the relationship was a heavy layer of guilt for forcing our children to trundle back and forth between us.”
Lara wrote that saying good-bye to her children was, “wrenching in a way that seemed to symbolize the larger demolishment of our family.”
But soon parenting part-time became her new normal, and Lara confessed:
“Here’s the truth: Having my two children half the time is exactly the right amount, and I cannot imagine my life any other way. Unhappily married in a 1,200-square-foot flat with two toddlers and an aggrieved spouse, I was physically and emotionally suffocated. Now the same space feels positively palatial, particularly when I am the only person in it.”
And admitting that life is better got readers in digital land hot under the collar.
'The writer seems very stuck in the moment, with little ability to have foresight. Conclusion: we need MORE selfishness,' wrote SAHD Champ on Twitter.
And this from Betsy Ingraham: 'This is a joke, right? You didn't mean to print a sociopath's article, right?'
Of course, Lara is not unaware of the expectation of how part-time mothers SHOULD feel, and goes on to discuss what a ‘good’ mother is supposed to experience.
“I know how I am supposed to feel about my divorced-parent reality. A good mother would be devastated to lose thousands of dinner-bath-bedtime-story evenings. A good mother would be heartsick to wake up alone. Deprived of her children full time, a good mother would feel sorrowful and bereft.”
“Not me. I rarely feel bad when my kids are with their father. For a while, I felt bad for not feeling bad. Finally, I realized what plenty of other divorced moms figured out long ago: Divorce suits us, and actually, it suits our kids. Staying together 'for the sake of the children' is not doing them any favors. Kids know everything.”
Being a co-parent myself, just like Lara, I have to admit I’ve had to search for the silver lining in this horrible situation of not being with my babies every single day too. Otherwise I would not have coped.
Lara's spot on when she confesses there’s no point feeling terrible when your kids are with their Dad – do you want to be miserable half your life?
Why must we completely lose our identity when we’re a mother – whether that’s a full-time or part-time mum? We are still a person too.
When people judge me I often wonder, are they envious of the me-time my part-time parenting forces me to have? And yes, I write 'forces' for a reason.
There are not many mothers who choose part-time parenting unless their are extenuating circumstances.
I never, ever would have chosen to be a part-time mother. I was torn apart when my ex left me with two children, but then demanded he see them half the time.
I'd been with them 90 percent of the time while he worked tirelessly and now I was supposed to cope without them half the holidays, half the school week and half my life?
I remember screaming in one of my many mummy meltdowns, “Why should I live my life seeing my children half the time?”
But – since those horrible days, I’ve realised how bloody miserable I was in that relationship. I’ve found myself again. I’m a better person, happier, more independent and guess what? I am a much more patient, loving mother who relishes every single second she has with her two babies.
So to all those parents or non-parents out there judging people like Lara and myself, for admitting a little me-time is lovely. Just think about the reality of divorce, co-parenting and shuttling kids back and forth and cut us co-parents some slack. We are making the best of a tough family set-up.
And remember, while we do get a break each week – when we do have our children, there is no emotional back-up and you have to be 100 percent focused on them on your days.
I've now learned to appreciate those little creatures and never, ever complain about parenting again.
And that, is the true silver lining. Don't take time with your little ones for granted. Ever. Because I used to - and it took losing half my time with them to realise what a precious gift motherhood really is.
Source: http://honey.nine.com.au/2017/06/21/10/47/a-mother-admits-she-loves-the-freedom-of-co-parenting-and-breaks-internet#YVfLoZMzfw6I5pBM.99
For divorced men, the reality is painful emotionally, physically, financially, and just about any angle you can look at it. It’s simply an unpleasant experience. To rebuild from it or from anything, the anger needs to subside, whatever humor to be found needs to be brought forth, and a renewed spirit developed.
At the same time as rebuilding begins, there needs to be an emphasis placed upon not regressing to less- developed former states. Many men in this situation fall back to a younger adult mentality of late night partying and ill-advised romantic involvements. Instead, focus on using the experience to emerge wiser and more prepared for what is next in life. Remaining stagnate or regressing are traps that usually lead to even more heartache.
There is hope for life after divorce. Divorced men can experience less trauma and create positive growth. There are ways to rebuild life and be a better parent. Here’s how:
Make Time to Grieve
The shattered dreams, the broken vows, and the reality of starting over all cause severe emotion. Shoving that emotion down and not releasing it will cause further damage in every case. Most do not realize the destructive paths they are going down until a lot of carnage is behind them. All the stages of grief come with divorce: shock, denial, anger, and acceptance. But for men, in particular, there can be a deep sense of personal failure. Finding trusted people to share these emotions with is highly recommended. That could be a clergy person, a counselor or just a wise and sincere friend or small group. As you move into this major life transition, being emotionally unstable is not beneficial to your cause. Address your grief.
Regain Individual Identity
Marriage is about partnership and teamwork, and now you find yourself on your own. It’s time to regain your individual identity and figure out what are the things that make life work well for you. It’s important to learn to respect yourself and feel worthy again. Hone the character traits and abilities you possess that lead to positive results in your life, and critically figure out the ones that contributed to the lack of success. Doing these things will enable us to better understand what we need and expect from the next relationship. Most of all, learn to pray with sincerity and purpose. God has not and will not leave your side.
Build a Network of Friends
Just because you’re single now, life after divorce doesn’t have to be lonely. Divorce will wreak havoc on some of your current friendships, but gracefully accept that and retain the ones that reach out to you. Moving forward, carefully work to make new friends in similar situations with similar goals. This is the area that is most vulnerable to regression. It’s certainly expected to have an active and enjoyable social life, but craft it with great care.
Prudent Financial Planning
You have enough stress from the divorce already. Accumulating mass amounts of debt will make life much more miserable as you transition. Alimony and child support are going to force serious restructuring. Doing so bitterly is going to send trauma throughout the entire family unit, especially landing right in the heart of your children. They will feel unwanted and as if they are burdens, when what they need more than anything at the moment is lots of reassurance that dad is still going to be there for them. Make the hard decisions and necessary cuts. It’s going to painful, but you’ll come out of it one day much better off.
Make a Goals Bucket List
Starting over requires deciding what are the things most important to you. Make a bucket list of goals you wish to achieve in this new direction in life. A better version of the man you already are. A better and wiser parent. Be a man that prepares himself for the best chance at happiness and success. Try and feel new things.
Source: https://www.allprodad.com/rebuilding-life-after-divorce/
