Having two

Jennifer asks:

I am a Choice Mom to a wonderful 2.5 year old little boy. I am thinking about having a 2nd baby, hoping for a girl. My question for other Choice Moms is: If you have made the choice or thinking, what are the deciding factors in having the second baby? How do you get by? Always the money question!!! I have a wonderful family, just lost my Mom and number one fan in March. Grandpa and Uncle are semi hands on, but adding an infant to the mix is not a good thing. So many things to think about. What was the deciding factor that made you go for it?

Any insight will help.

Podcast: The Mr. Good Enough debate

When Lori Gottlieb wrote an article about the merits of settling for Mr. Good Enough (Atlantic Monthly, March 2008), it set off a firestorm of debate within the Choice Mom community and across the U.S. in general. We talk on the Choice Chat podcast (posted today) with Lori about the strong responses she's gotten from people on both sides of the discussion. We also talk openly with Choice Mom Lily about the sometimes shamed viewpoint even within our own community that single parenting can be incredibly rewarding but also can be a lonely path.

Catch up on the discussion by listening to the podcast, then post your comments here.

-- Mikki

using the "dad" term

One of several interesting and warm-hearted threads on the Choice Mom discussion board this week was started by a woman who mentioned that her child, not quite 3, was starting to refer to a male family friend as "dad." She wondered what to do about it.

She's been getting great advice from the Choice Mom community -- largely related to offering simple, non-fussy correction.

But it's a common stage for Choice Moms to start wondering, as our kids begin talking, about how much we should worry about what they are thinking and to what extent we need to do something about it....and what that step should be. We tend to be afraid that each moment is important enough to have a lasting effect. I remember being very concerned when my daughter started to take a huge interest in princess-and-prince stories when she was 3/4 that it was a reflection on her need for a father....

It took awhile before I discovered that roughly 98 percent of girls that age love princess-and-prince stories.

Now that I have a little hindsight -- my daughter is 9 -- I can reflect better on another stage she had. Once upon a time she used to say she had 3 daddies -- her donor dad, my ex-husband (who we're close with but who I divorced 6 years before she was born), and, after I married a second time, her stepdad.

Now that she's 9 and knows what the term "dad" really means, she doesn't use that for any of them. She simply calls them by their first names.

I think it's fine for kids to play around with the terminology, as long as you very simply let them know it's not real. In my case, I used to tell my daughter only, "wow, you're lucky to have THREE dads." And within a few months she was past that stage.

When I was about 7, I knew about the brother I had who died at birth before I was born. Somehow this took on great meaning for me -- I longed for a big brother at that time, since I was having some issues I was afraid to tell my parents about. It was around the time of the Vietnam War, and I started telling classmates that I had a brother in the war...and eventually that he died there.

I grew out of this stage about a year later (and my parents didn't know about it, so they never corrected me). To this day, I do recognize in me, in times of greater emotional stress, that longing for a big brother to put his arm around me and say everything will be all right.

Sometimes our kids will long for a dad...or a sibling...or a dog...or a Wii. Longing is okay, especially if they feel comfortable letting us know about it in subtle or not-so-subtle ways. And I don't think, when we look at it in the long run, that it is something for us to feel guilty about. Unless we tell them not to long for anything.

-- Mikki

Finding Community 2

Have had a really great week of finding the wonderful things about life and community, and thought I'd share some of it -- may be useful to be able to remember. It is an election year here in the U.S., after all, which sometimes seems to bring out the worst in people.

This week started when a bunch of involved parents came over to spend a Saturday morning sorting bottle tops and Betty Crocker labels to earn money for the school.

A few days later I saw the great Eddie Izzard (U.K. comedian), who uses his wonderfully intelligent platform about religion, ancient civilizations, and evolution to point out our responsibility to lift up our communities.

Another set of parents came over to discuss how to advocate on behalf of our school district for much needed funding, especially for our English-as-a-second-language programs.

A wonderful young man who recently fell into my path offered more than 10 hours of his time to help me improve my Choice Chat podcast.

I helped chaperone a busload of third graders on a 10-hour field trip. Many of these kids were overjoyed to see dairy cows in the fields enroute, and giant rainbows in the sky on the way back. A friend of one of the teachers took the day off work to grill hot dogs and burgers, ready upon our arrival, after 2.5 hours of driving, at a picnic place.

Finally, today, I attended my favorite Unitarian Universalist tradition at my church -- the one that led me to join in the first place -- when a few of the 9th graders performed their Coming of Age spiritual statements in front of the congregation. It always brings a tear to my eye to see how amazingly mature these 15-year-olds can be, thanks in part to the great parenting and the church community that surrounds them.

There was the entertaining young man who created a film to show his belief in nature, energy, music and technology. The remarkably poised young woman I had the privilege to mentor who believes in the magic of a long run, of seeing light shine through the leaves, and of the piece of music she played for us on the piano (The Girl with the Flaxen Hair"). The quirky Molly Ringwald-like (ala Pretty in Pink) young woman, who had such eloquent points to make that I'm also writing about her in the "Thinking" blog. And another young man I taught two years ago at this church who has already surpassed my expectations of what a thoughtful, talented person he will become.

There are so many good spirits out there. Weeks like this I am profoundly reminded how great is the source of community connection when we find the right place to be -- for ourselves, for our children. Keep attuned to new experiences and new people and we'll find the Good Ones who add so much without even trying.

-- Mikki

Dealing with big "ouches"

from Mikki

The Choice Mom discussion board this week has been discussing another juicy topic: coping with our children's emotional pain, which was launched by a post about biracial children (more on that in another blog). It coincided with an interview I had with someone this week about how Choice Moms celebrate Father's Day. And my own concern that I have to fly out the day of my daughter's birthday in a few days so that I can do an interview on the PBS all-female news show "To the Contrary."

These three things have in common the syndrome of "Mama pain."

Not to discount the emotional pain our kids do go through, but sometimes we forget to recognize the prism we look through as Mothers who love our children more than anything else. We don't want them to ever feel lonely, or hurt, or lost, or left out, or frozen with fear.

Of course, sometimes they will. As Mom, it's excruciating.

On the front end, before we're mothers, we worry about whether we'll pass our home study, which donor sounds right in the audiotape, which doctor to use. Some of the enlightened who have the option these days plan further ahead, looking for open-identity donors or open birth placement for our as-yet-unknown-children, to help them avoid psychic pain they might otherwise have about their identity.

When they are babies and toddlers, we worry about them falling down, putting things in their mouth that shouldn't be there, the earache that keeps them up at night. And we do our best to deal with their emotional issues: the kid who took the toy away, the fact that mom wants to drag them away from the playground, fear of the dark.

As our kids mature, they struggle with things that are much more emotional and serious...and difficult for Mom to know how to talk through. Why a best friend isn't a friend anymore. The death of a classmate, or grandparent, or dog. What they have in common with an anonymous donor. Why a birth parent placed them for adoption. Achievement anxiety. Not getting picked for a sports team. Being bullied. Being teased. Being left out. Not looking the same as his/her parent, or most of his/her classmates. Not having a father. Having a lesbian parent. Not having as much money as other families at school, and feeling shame. Recognizing that an uncle is an alcoholic, and not understanding it.

The most difficult thing for Mom is to see them struggling -- and know you cannot fix it or make it go away. We can "only" talk with them.

With that talking comes the difficult task of figuring out what it is that actually bothers them. Not clouded by the prism of what does or does not bother Mom.

I was racked with guilt and sorrow at the thought of leaving my daughter behind on her birthday so I could fly somewhere for an interview. I asked her if she wanted to fly with me. She said not if it would cost me money. She also doesn't like the idea of being away from school on her birthday, when friends can acknowledge it with her. Ouch. She's turning nine, and that transition to the importance of friends, compared to family, is right around the corner.

She said she will be sad if I cannot be with her that night after school to celebrate her birthday, but I know she will live with it better than I will. I still vividly remember our first night together on the day she was born. Wanting to look at her all night, and be with her every moment, even though I was exhausted. To her, it is much more about an excuse to have a party.

I think Father's Day is another occasion that might bother some of us, as Moms, more than our kids. It also might bother some of our kids more than it does us. Another important distinction to come into focus in the Mom prism.

A group of Choice Moms I know take their kids camping Father's Day weekend, just to have something special to do. Others honor grandfathers and uncles. Some plan to create reunions with half-siblings, to commemorate their link to the unknown anonymous donor they share. One woman suggests volunteering with the kids at a soup kitchen that day, so they can learn as a family to respect what they have, rather than what they do not.

An interesting idea one Choice-Mom-in-the-making learned from another single parent is to celebrate with a son the Father that he might become someday: collecting stories and mementoes and advice about the Man-in-the-making. It will naturally reflect the mother's hopes at first, but gradually transition into the boy's own aspirations.

I love this idea in many ways. How many of us actually take the time to discuss with our kids the kind of parent and adult they might someday be?

For our daughters on Father's Day, an extension of the idea might be to ponder together the kind of person we hope to share the awesome responsibility of parenting with someday. Recognition of values to find in a true partner. Encouragement that pursuing that partner is good, even if Mom has found the pursuit elusive, or is doing well alone.

Then Mom's role is to step back, year by year, and let our child fill in the picture on an annual basis of what kind of relationships they want to have in their life -- what values are important to them. Parenting in a nutshell.

We cannot make their ouches go away. Or even predict what they will be. We can only know that there will be things that trouble them. And that they will, for the most part, have to get through them in their own way.

What we can offer them is a great deal of conversation in order to give them the tools, before we send them on their 80 percent merry way.

What do you think? What emotional pain do you worry about with your children? How do you plan to spend Father's Day as a single mom?

Finding community

In recent weeks I've been reminded deeply of the very strong power that community can provide, and wanted to use the emotions of the moment to reiterate to Choice Moms the value of extending your networks as head of a household.

My mother's father died when she was 9, and her brother was 6. My grandmother was a pretty woman who had no particular ambitions other than to raise her family, but she sent her kids to relatives for a year, went through cosmetology school in the big city, and opened up her own beauty shop in their small hometown until after her kids were grown. She had loyal customers, who undoubtedly also understood how hard she was working to keep things together for her kids. She purposely decided not to remarry until her kids were grown.

More than 60 years later, earlier this year, my mom's 6-foot-1 brother had a dizzy spell, fell in his bathroom, broke his neck, and became a quadriplegic. He spent a month in ICU, fighting off pneumonia and other things, before being moved elsewhere for therapy. The medical bills are, of course, huge, and he is not a wealthy man.

Former neighbors helped the three kids launch a spaghetti dinner and $1-per-ticket raffle fundraiser. Dozens of people offered wonderful donations for the raffle, including new iPods and digital camera. An estimated 300 people showed up on a Saturday afternoon to buy a $10 plate of spaghetti (one man paid $200 for his), with the food and hall donated by two of my uncle's American Legion buddies. In all, the afternoon raised $11,000.

My uncle is not a "special" man. He has always been a loyal dad, who tried to make ends meet in simple ways. He loves to talk, enjoyed his time at the American Legion, and continued to work past retirement age, ironically, driving disabled people in a van. He tried to visit his mother every Sunday in the nursing home.

My uncle was vaulted into a special place in his community once he and his family needed support. Attendees at the fundraiser included a grizzled man from the Legion who said he missed seeing my uncle at the bar, a woman who had met him briefly in conversation shortly before his fall and marveled at how open and friendly he was, the grandson of a long-time friend, members of their church, and so many more.

Finding community, who will freely offer support when we need it, can be found in the simplest of ways. But we have to be out of the house, often apart from our parental role, in order to be found and to find.

Some of that same extended network was at work a few weeks later for the family, when my 96-year-old grandmother died. Although all of her many cousins, her four sisters, and all but one of her friends had died, it was the next generation that stood together for the family at the burial site in her hometown, decades after she and my mother (and my uncle) had left. My grandmother had maintained contact with families that my mother had barely known when she was growing up. And it was those families that stood with her at the cemetery to help her say goodbye.

As I wrote in the "Choosing Single Motherhood" book several years ago, I had become isolated in my professional life in New York City. It's not until I shook off the work cloak a bit after my daughter was born that I reprioritized, relocated, and reinvested in a community life that now includes the Unitarian Universalist church, school parents, Choice Moms, old high school friends, and even new families.

I still have a long way to go to feel as secure in my community as I'd like -- to feel reassured that if something even closer to home happened, my kids would have the support and connections they need. But it's something I will always keep my eyes open for, especially now that I've been reminded of how vital it is to be surprised and touched by the kindness of others.

Mikki