Business Travel 2: Staying Close to the Kids When You’re on the Road

Last week, I wrote about the unforeseen challenges of traveling for business. As a divorced parent with primary responsibility for raising my daughter The Bean, I underestimated the impact of my being away for a multi-day business trip. After taking a post-travel guilt trip, I’m back and doing what I do best: Research, research, research.

First, I turned to what’s widely considered a classic for co-parents, Mom’s House, Dad’s House” by Isolina Ricci, PhD. Although Ricci doesn’t touch on travel specifically in this ultra-handy manual for divorced co-parents, she does a fine job outlining how kids and parents who are separated can feel close when they’re far apart.

One suggestion that I really like, and will employ on my very next trip away from home is the “Thinking-of-You Box,” which Ricci describes as little things that you give your child when you reunite. Special pictures, pressed flowers from a particularly colorful place, a small piece of driftwood and the like are “concrete, retouchable, re-readable evidence of caring” for kids Ricci says.

Technology provides ample means of keeping in touch, and email, or even short, handwritten letters with lots of pictures sent by snail-mail are especially good for young children, “who are enthralled with having their very own mail coming to the door.” She suggests photos, postcards and stickers for small children who can’t yet read on their own. For older children, e-mail is a great way to maintain daily contact, to share your own experiences of the day and to tune into their daily happenings at home – even comparing notes on sports or TV shows that you know they normally watch.

The next bit of technology could really be a help to kids and parents who are separated by distance for business or other reasons, so I’ll be doing some homework on Skype. For those of you living under rocks, it’s an online service that allows users to talk, chat or make free video calls over the Internet. I’m not so sure how The Bean’s dad will feel about the sight of my lovely visage beaming into his computer, but I have a feeling he’ll hear me out on this, to prevent tearful bedtimes when I have to be on the road, and vice versa. Video tuck-in service, coming right up!

This Just In: Stable Post-Divorce Families Help Minimize Long-Term Harm to Children

Just picked this up from yesterday's Science Daily, and it's so encouraging to me that I wanted to pass it along. Below, you'll find my own blog entry, which deals with -- surprise -- keeping things stable!

After Divorce, Stable Families Help Minimize Long-term Harm To Children

ScienceDaily (2008-05-08) -- For children of divorce, what happens after their parents split up may be just as important to their long-term well-being as the divorce itself. A new study found that children who lived in unstable family situations after their parents divorced fared much worse as adults on a variety of measures compared to children who had stable post-divorce family situations. ... > read full article

Business Travel: Cue the Guilt

I’m just back from a business trip, and am up to my ears in email and dirty laundry. And guilt.

My daughter’s dad and I have had plenty of practice at the fine art of negotiating schedule changes as coparents due to business travel. Usually, he’s been the one who needs to travel most, and I’m all too happy to get some extra parenting time with The Bean. To his credit, her dad’s been pretty sensitive to our daughter’s need for equal parenting time with both of us, and so he does a good job of making up lost time -- and keeping her life stable -- with extra days on the end of a weekend, or in some other fashion that keeps her schedule smooth and as seamless as possible. My husband “H” is a big road warrior, too, so it’s often just me and The Bean at home together. I tend to be the one with the more predictable, stable schedule.

This time, however, it was my turn to be on the road. Her dad and I ironed out everything from arranging alternative transportation to spotlighting Girl Scout meeting times in advance, and memorialized the changes in writing. I optimized my cell phone so I’d have good service abroad, and told The Bean and her dad to expect a call on certain evenings. I briefed The Bean on any changes to her schedule, and explained that although that it might be iffy for me to get through on occasion, I would certainly call. Everybody seemed to be cool about the plan.

Ha. So much for the best-laid plans. I had difficulty in calling her as often as I wanted to, becuause being at sea put a crimp in my ability to reach out and touch someone. When we spoke on the phone, she seemed downright chirpy, but then when I came home, another story emerged.

My absence took a bit of a toll on The Bean. She told me she’d done a fair amount of weeping before bed at night because she “missed me so much.” There was a lot of clinging and hugging, and there were some funky mood swings, too, in the days after we finally reconnected. I imagine that kids whose married parents travel also go through this but...this is my kid and I want her to feel good, dammit! She’s ok now, but she definitely went into Mommy Withdrawal. Cue the guilt! Cue the hair shirt! Am I overreacting? I’d sure like to do a better job next time.

Next week, though, I’ll do some homework. Obviously, I need to upgrade my skills to learn how to better navigate these waters. Oh, and there will be self-flagellation...talk about earning your stripes!

Family Vacation: The Next Generation

We’re back from our spring break in the greater Fort Lauderdale area. Theoretically speaking, what happened in Fort Lauderdale could have stayed in Fort Lauderdale if it weren’t so darned weird.

The anticipated Weird Thing (a tentative outing with my ex-husband, his girlfriend, her son, my husband and my daughter with Husband #1, The Bean) never happened.

The unanticipated Weird Thing was pretty weird, though: Traveling aboard the same plane as my ex’s girlfriend and her son, and being introduced to them by MY husband!

At pickup and drop-off times, The Bean’s dad never brings his girlfriend along, although they’ve been dating for at least a year. Once or twice in recent months, I have encountered The Girlfriend from a very distant distance. She’d sit in the car outside my house while The Bean’s dad came in.

I’ve always wondered what it would be like when we finally met, and not without a modicum of anxiety. Would it be weird? Would she hate me on site? Would I hate her on site? Would my ex- be nice or …you get the picture. I expected a lump in my throat, a tightening in my stomach, a flutter – something.

The weirdest thing of all – after months of anticipation – was the actual moment of meeting. My husband, who had crossed paths with The Girlfriend in the past, recognized her at the airport terminal, walked up, said hello, and turned to introduce me.

The earth did not tremble. Instead, I stuck out my hand, said hi, and exchanged a few pleasantries. I don’t remember a word I said after hi. The deal was done. And oddly, I felt nothing at all. Nada. I was so neutral I was practically Sweden! Totally weird.

When I later told my husband how completely surprised I was by absence of grave emotions, substantive thoughts or anything even slightly dramatic at The First Meeting, he said he thought it was a good thing. He’s a pretty smart guy, so I’ll let it rest at that.

Compassionator Part 4:Advanced Secret Weapons

Last week, couples therapist Betsy Bergquist weighed in on how one co-parent, my friend Ellen, successfully prevented a fractious battle over late bedtimes at the home of her son’s dad, Mike by making a few simple changes in her own behavior.

There’s always room for improvement, Bergquist says, and if Ellen really wants to step up her game with Mike and her 10-year-old son, Ethan, there are two more Advanced Secret Weapons she can try in the future.

1. Appreciation. Bergquist says, “I’m sensing that Mike’s not feeling very good about creating this basket case by keeping [Ethan] up, and he’s used to being on the defense with Ellen.” Ellen could start off this sort of conversation by appreciating the bond that Mike has with Ethan – “I would start out by telling him how much you appreciate that Ethan has a great dad and is so much fun. If all he hears is criticism, there needs to be some balance.”

2. Help Your Child to Problem-Solve. Don’t focus on mom-dad negotiations at the expense of missing a great teaching opportunity with your child. Without putting the dad down, Bergquist says, Ellen can acknowledge that her son Ethan is really bushed. Dad may not see it or be brushing it aside, in macho fashion, Bergquist says, but that doesn’t mean Ethan has to take it on the chin. Ellen can help him problem-solve so Ethan can feel more in control of his own life. They can brainstorm together, too. Mom can suggest a sleep-saving solution, such as renting a movie and watching it in installments. Even when Ethan’s with his dad, he can learn to take greater responsibility for his own needs and communicate more clearly – what a concept!

Next week, Families Inc. will be on Spring Break, so keep an eye out for Tales From the Road, which may involve a new twist -- my daughter's dad, his girlfriend, our daughter, my husand and me, all in the same room. Now there's a cliffhanger for you. Stay tuned!

If you'd like to learn more about Betsy Bergquist, who along with her husband Bruce operates the Imago Center for Relationships in Clinton, NJ, check out www.betsyandbruce.com.

Secret Weapon:The Compassionator Part 3

Last week we talked about Ethan’s mom and dad, Ellen and Mike, who had an ongoing conflict to work out. Ellen was using her Secret Weapon, The Compassionator, to build consensus and work out differences with Mike.

This week, I asked couples expert and Families Inc.’s resident sensei, Betsy Bergquist, to weigh in on Ellen’s communication style switch, and what small changes can have a big impact on quarrelsome co-parents.

Bergquist, who, with her husband Bruce operate the burgeoning Imago Center for Relationships in Clinton, NJ, says that Ellen’s use of validation to imagine how Mike might feel, and brainstorming with Mike to build teamwork were all good signs of a healthier communication style. She also gave kudos to Ellen for a) realizing that her lectures weren’t working and b) zipping her lip and listening while Mike explained his side of the story.

“I definitely think [Ellen] changed the whole scene around not by giving the 20-minute lecture and by validating how hard it is to give up Ethan on a Sunday night,” Bergquist says. These two simple moves were naturally, and literally disarming.

Ready to lay down your arms and work more closely with your former spouse? Next week, Bergquist offers Advanced Secret Weapons for Compassionators.

Secret Weapon:The Compassionator Part 2

Mike and Ellen are friends of mine who happen to be divorced, but share parenting time with one child, Ethan. He’s 10. Ellen, like a lot of moms, has primary custody; Mike sees Ethan on Wednesdays and every other weekend.*

Ellen called me on Monday, ready to rip out her hair over the following scene: It seems that Ethan stayed up way past his bedtime – again – on Sunday night, and was a sniveling, miserable piece of burnt wreckage when he came home to Ellen on Monday. After a full day of school and an afternoon club meeting, Ethan had a backpack full of homework and no energy, no focus, and needed a lot of hugs and Kleenex.

Ellen was fuming when she heard about the late bedtime – and ranted long and loud on the phone to me. “I’ve only said this 8 gazillion times before – we have to get him to bed on time on Sundays because it’s such a long day. Why won’t Mike just *&^%$#!! do it?”

When they were married, Mike and Ellen had the classic cats-and-dogs conflict style. Fur flew everywhere, and nobody won. But Ellen’s gotten smarter. After waiting 24 hours, venting to her friends, sleeping on it and really calming down she: a) wrote down a few key points, then b) called Mike Tuesday afternoon, during drive time, when she knew she’d have his attention, but Ethan wouldn’t overhear, and c) worded her remarks carefully to avoid accusing Mike.

“Mike, I need to talk with you about Ethan’s bedtime on Sunday nights. He’s was so tired last night that he was crying and couldn’t finish his homework. Can you tell me what’s happening that’s preventing him from getting into bed. He’s so tired and I’m concerned that he may be falling behind in school.” She waited. Mike tended to get loud when she asked him to explain himself, so she braced herself as Mike ranted on for five minutes about the evening. Mike and Ethan got really caught up in a movie and time "just got away from me," Mike said. It had happened before.

Then Ellen dropped the Secret Weapon and Compassionated a stunned Mike. “So it sounds like you were having a great weekend and it was just hard to let it end?” Mike didn’t know what hit him. He had expected Ellen to do her standard 20-minute lecture on the importance of sleep. Instead, she put herself in Mike's shoes and tried to imagine the scene. “I guess I can understand how you feel - I get a little sad when it’s my turn to send him back to you. I really love it when he's here and I miss him, too.”

Then Ellen asked Mike if they could brainstorm for next time, because on Monday, Ethan was really toast, and because Ethan was so exhausted, she said, “I know you understand what I mean when he’s not really with it – it’s like you miss out on a whole day with him. I have a couple of ideas on how to work this out. Just think it over and let me know in a day or two. Would you consider giving me a little extra time with him next week or could we work something out so that we know he’s going to be in bed by 9 from now on?”

Magic. No screaming. Mike said he’d call back and he did.

What worked? It takes more than just superficially making nice to your ex’s face –and telling them what they want to hear. To be a Compassionator requires that you wear your big-kid undies for the job. So stay tuned until next week, a couples’ expert will give the armchair-quarterback analysis of Ellen’s skillful use of the Compassionator Secret Weapon, and how you can use it, too.

* Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Secret Weapon: The Compassionator Part 1

Let’s assume that your ex-partner made you nuts when you were married and still gets your goat on a regular basis. Those new dress shoes you just bought for your son come back from your ex-’s house full of mud and scratches - again! Your daughter's teacher sent home a note complaining that she was unprepared for class - again! Your kids were supposed to be picked up an hour ago, but your ex- is late - again! And now you are, too. Your blood pressure just soars whenever you see your ex-’s face.

Sound familiar? If you’re like a lot of single parents or remarried folks, the dance you do with your ex- has an effect on your health, and also on everyone around you – and if you’re angry, it’s probably rubbing off on your loved ones.

Herein lies the rub: Experts will tell you that it’s essential for compassion to occur for adults to co-parent effectively. Compassion? Please...it's probably the last thing on your mind, but you also know that homicide is not an option. (Think of all the pesky jail time involved.) So, what to do if your ex-still drives you bonkers, your Compassionator (tm) is just not working and the Maytag repairman is taking lunch?

You don’t necessarily need your ex- to suddenly stop being a jerk. You can hit the re-set button and change the course of interaction all by yourself, according to Dr. Melody Bacon, a clinical psychologist in San Juan Capistrano, CA.

As Bacon says, “one person only needs to be willing to approach the other person with a degree of detachment and a willingness not to engage in the same emotional reactivity. Try and have an argument with someone who won’t argue – it doesn’t work!”

Bacon, who also is a psychology professor at California's Argosy University and specializes in work with couples, says the hardest thing in any coupleship, even one that’s over, is to give up the struggle In some instances, fighting and arguing is the only mode of communication that’s been available to divorcing couples, but if confrontations are what get in the way of you being able to talk or negotiate with your ex-, “expect them to behave in [that way] and start to navigate from the thinking part of your brain, not your limbic system, which runs your defense mechanisms." When you have one non-anxious person, you’re more likely to have more calmness in your dealings with your ex-.

You may be skeptical that this can actually occur – especially if you're hardwired to react more like Godzilla than Buddha. But take some deep breaths and hang on --next week, I’ll write more on getting a hold of your emotions, and your brain. You and your blood pressure will definitely cool down – and yes, even your ex- may play nicer as a result.

Silda Spitzer: Why Stand by Your Man?

Like a lot of New York/New Jersey-area folks, I heard the news that Eliot Spitzer had been taken down after being linked to a high-end prostitution ring and thought A) Oh, Lord, is this a joke? And, B) is he gay, too? With the McGreevey scandal still in close by in our collective rearview mirror, my husband admitted that he’d wondered this, too.

As it turned out, the news was neither a joke nor an announcement that Spitzer was playing for another team. Instead, we learned that he’d paid upward of $80,000 for les liaisons dangereuses with a high-priced hooker named “Kristen.” And then, we saw the all-too-familiar and expected image of Spitzer and his visibly shaken and beleaguered wife, Silda, standing by her man.

The only question that I really had at that moment was: Why would a Harvard-educated, intelligent and successful woman like Silda Spitzer stand beside her philandering husband for humiliation she didn’t deserve, enduring the cameras, the prying questions from reporters, and perhaps the sense that the floor might open and swallow her whole?

I guess as a New Jerseyan, I’m still ticked off about New Jersey former governor Jim McGreevey, who lost his job after an affair with a longtime male aide. I can still remember the shell-shocked, Bambi-in-the-headlights look of his former wife, Dina Matos McGreevey, as she stood beside him in her powder-blue suit, absorbing his now-famous quote, “I am a Gay American.”

I am still wondering Why Dina Did It, and now I'm scratching my head about Silda, as were all the other women in my Pilates class on the morning that the news broke. "It’s really a wonder that any woman would be caught dead doing that in this day and age," our instructor said, adding, "I'd be throwing his stuff on the lawn." Widespread agreement ensued, with other women chiming in with unprintable solutions for Eliot's Little Problem. The two lone males in our class grew uncomfortable, and one made some noises about Lorena Bobbitt, so we moved on to back bends instead.

Later that night, I caught CNN's Anderson Cooper: 360, and there was Lisa Bloom, a civil rights attorney from Court TV going toe to toe with Alan Dershowitz. Bloom said it’s time to change the standard tableau of humiliated wife and disgraced political husband, and I couldn't agree more.

“What kind of message does this send, what kind of role model are you going to be…if you stand there mutely, and humiliated? The clear message to political wives is that you must go and you must stand there. I don’t Dina McGreevey felt like she had much of a choice.”

I went to sleep, but awoke with the Clash's "Stand Down, Margaret" in my head; it was my mental soundtrack for the rest of the morning.

I agree with Bloom that it’s time to change what women are expected to do in public life. I never thought about it before, but what sort of a message do we send our children -- that a woman must stand for any sort of nonsense because she made the mistake of marrying a bozo? And that boy children can expect the same sort of blind loyalty from their future mates, no matter how illegal, immoral or just plain stupid their behavior may be?

It's not a lesson I'd voluntarily teach my child. I think it’s healthier and saner to let the spotlight – and the shame - rest where it belongs.

Whether or not the Spitzers can get past this and piece their marriage back together, at least one person will still be able to stand with dignity. The kids will be looking for someone to look up to and lean on. My money's on Silda.

So Silda, all the women in my Pilates class wish you the best. And we all hope you’ll stand by yourself.

Emergency Maneuvers

I’ve been off duty at Families, Inc. after a short winter break in Puerto Rico with my family turned into an awful, unforeseen two-day stint in a Puerto Rican hospital.

Fortunately, I’m just fine after a scary few days of dealing with what looked a lot like a stroke, but turned out to be a pinched nerve. Scarier still was trying to get medical care in a place where very few people spoke English at all, most did not speak it fluently, and nobody seemed to give a damn if I really needed to be there in the first place. As it turns out, I didn’t.

I found myself in a completely unanticipated and awkward position as I handed over care of The Bean, my nine-year-old daughter, to H., my husband/her stepdad, while I was camped out in the stark, ice-cold bowels of Hima San Pablo hospital in Fajardo. My husband and daughter had never had an overnight stay without me. While I knew that they got on very well, I worried that my daughter would be scared, overtired and cranky after a long, late night in the ER with me. Before they left me at the hospital, I called The Bean’s dad back at home in the States, and asked him to stay in close touch with H., just in case “something happened” to me. I was rattled, edgy and freezing in the sepulchrally icy ER, but eventually I drifted off into fitful sleep under a pair of plastic-lined sheets that I fashioned into a tent atop a gurney(‘See? It pays to watch Survivorman', I thought.

As it turned out, my daughter and husband’s first solo overnight went better than expected, according to H. I could soon see that the two of them had grown closer by working together on my behalf, bringing me blankets (did you ever hear of a hospital without blankets?), warm clothes (air conditioners were set on ‘stun’) and food (that was a bug in my mashed potatoes!) The Bean brought me a yellow stuffed bunny, which we promptly named “Mofongo” after a local plantain dish of a similar hue. H. told me that The Bean hadn’t cried when they spent the second night without me, but instead curled up next to him on the sofa to watch TV. That NEVER happened at home, I mused in my darkened hospital room. Maybe this little Holiday in Hell would have a silver lining.

At the end of my second, daunting day in the hospital, I made a daring escape. My “medico,” Dr. A, was supposedly a hospital bigwig, and he let me know it, too. He showed up in the morning making vague promises of test results, then, told me he wanted to “talk business.” He spent the next 20 minutes deflecting questions about my tests and pitching me a story idea about medical travel to a new hospital that was under construction.

I told him exactly what I thought he wanted to hear. I told him it was a great story, even though his hospital was utterly sub-par, because I hoped he would play a quick game of schmooze-the-reporter and get me out of there soon. Boy was I wrong. Instead, Dr. A went AWOL. After trying all day to track him down, and the promise of another night’s stay in what seemed to me like a Turkish prison, I finally gave up. Instead, late in the afternoon, we called our US-based insurer and learned that they'd had my test results for hours -- and all were negative. Joy to the world! I promptly signed myself out.

H., The Bean and I nearly ran for the elevator as if we were escaping from a high-security prison – and headed to a little beachside joint we like for dinner. There, I watched The Bean reach out for H’s hand as she tentatively stepped onto the darkened beach.

Another barrier had come down for our blended-family-in-progress. I knew she finally saw H. as an auxiliary parent and protector. So, for me, there were tears, an oversized cocktail, followed by a huge celebratory feast. And if I ever get sick in Puerto Rico again, I will head for the airport, not the hospital!

Cupid Only Misses Sometimes

Last Friday night, I had the rare task of herding kids offstage after they performed in my daughter’s school talent show. The show’s a big deal in our little town, and entire extended families turn out to watch the proceedings. Naturally, I thought the Alvin and the Chipmunks impersonators – with my daughter, The Bean, as Alvin – were the best of the bunch, but all the kids received a medal for participating. I had two remarkable moments as I played shepherdess to the stars.

The first was a sight I glimpsed in the audience: There was my husband, sitting next to my mom. She was flanked by my ex-husband, and he sat beside my dad. All were applauding and cheering – in a row, with their Cheshire Cat-like smiles gleaming out from the shadows — as I hustled The Bean and her friends offstage. “How cool. And weird,” I thought.

I’d had a similar sensation 25 year ago, on the day I cut off my unruly long hair. As I walked out of the salon, I passed a plate-glass window and glimpsed my new, sleeker reflection, but didn’t realize that it was me. Here was the same sensation, but it was this 2.0 version of my family that caught me unawares, and favorably so.

The second striking moment came as a young girl made her way to the center spotlight with a microphone in her hand. As the first notes of her song began to play, she panicked and bolted from the stage in tears, ran down the stairs and almost straight into me. After a few moments, her mom came up and explained that her daughter was new in town, really hoping to fit in, and was mortified that she hadn’t been able to do her song. She wanted to try again, even though she was petrified.

Toward the end of the show, the girl made her way back to the stage and sang in the spotlight, cheered on by the whole audience, who applauded her wildly at the end. She strode off the stage, beaming, and as she handed me her microphone, I shook her clammy little hand and said, “That was really excellent.”

We divorced folks are a bit like that little girl with stage fright. We may run offstage in tears, but one by one, we shakily assume that place in the spotlight and try again. She reminded me of my husband – a divorced guy who believed in the promise of marriage, enough to take a chance on me. She also reminded me of my ex-husband, who’s dating someone special, and little by little, incorporating that relationship into our daughter’s life with much success.

There are a lot of us who choose to believe that it’s worth it to try again, to take another swing at love and marriage, despite a barrage of statistics that suggest it’s a fool’s errand. Yes, it’s scary; it’s exhilarating, and by no means is it easy. But we do it anyway. So, happy Valentine’s Day to everyone who prefers to believe that love is more than just a four-letter word. Here’s to you. Here’s to life.
Take care.

Rules of Engagement for the Disengaged

Last week, I went off a bit – and politely, thank you very much – about the short shrift given by a recent Parenting magazine article that touched too lightly on the subject of fighting in front of the kids.

Kids have radar, it’s true, as the Parenting article correctly points out, even babies can tell when you’re angry. It’s impossible to conduct a Watergate-style cover-up of negative emotions when everyone’s living together, and it’s not exactly a healthy idea to walk around smiling when your innards feel as if they may spontaneously combust. But, we all know as divorced parents that conflict is what got you divorced in the first place – and it’s also a natural part of coparenting from time to time.

So, what can divorced or married parents do to cool things down when they disagree, so the kids don’t get worried and scared? Try the following quick rules of engagement for the disengaged -- divorced co-parents who are still working together for the benefit of their kids, or stepparents who are trying to work things out:

1) Take a break. If you’re too angry to stay calm, do yourself a favor and walk away. Tell your ex- or your spouse that you’ll come back to the table when you’re both calmer.

2) Work it out when the kids are out of earshot. Go for a walk, go sit in the outdoors, get in the car, go someplace where you can both air your points of view privately. Wait for the kids to go to bed – or even take it down to the laundry room (one of my favorite places to talk privately when there’s a full house).

3) Be respectful. Name calling, assigning motives or dragging in the kitchen sink of problems just isn’t fair, ever. When this sort of behavior starts, it’s a signal to stop the conversation and cool off.

4) Please ‘splain. If the kids do catch you snapping at one another – which may happen from time to time – explain that: Mom & Dad will work it out; that you are fine; that sometimes people disagree or yell once in awhile. Kids should never be asked to take sides, or to take care of a parent who’s upset. There’s no need to go into the fine details of your disagreement if they ask what’s the matter. They don’t need to know.

5) Write it down. If you can’t articulate your point of view without getting really exercised, sometimes it’s best to write it all down, sit on it for 24 hours and then re-read your thoughts before you revisit the subject with your ex-.

6) Don’t hit “send” when you’re mad. Email nastygrams are potent poison – don’t send your ex- a heated email because the injury to your parenting relationship will probably last longer than the problem that caused you to write it.

7) Make peace when you can’t agree. Let’s face it, we can’t always agree about everything. Compromise by allowing for differences in parenting styles – and some different rules in mom’s and dad’s house are to be expected. As long as the kids are healthy, happy, rested and able to do their jobs –school work, homework, activities and playing, of course – difference can be good for them.

8) Test drive new ideas. If your ex- or spouse has resistance to a new idea that you’d like to employ – say, switching your parenting schedules around – ask to try it out for a short-term test-run, with the agreement that you can go back to the negotiating table after testing it out for an agreed-upon time period.

9) Listen. Are you sure you’re really listening to your ex? Even if you don’t agree, it’ important to hear both points of view and to find areas of common ground where you both agree. If it’s your turn to listen, just quiet down and do so, without using that quiet time as a strategy session to plan your responding argument!

10) Read up. If anger rears its ugly head too often in your home, or between ex-couples, here’s a great resource for helping to cool yourself down and negotiate more effectively: “Dr. Weisinger’s Anger Workout Book” by Hendrie Wiesinger, Ph.D. (c. 1985, Harper)

For how-to book fans, this is an oldie but goodie that targets simple practices you can use immediately to take the heat out of arguments by changing your own style. No cooperation required – which is handy in situations when you don’t see eye to eye with your ex-spouse! According to relationship expert Betsy Bergquist, a certified Imago Therapist at Imago Center for Relationships in Clinton, NJ, the book’s greatest strength is that it emphasizes one person’s power to change negative relationship dynamics by changing their own behavior without getting caught up in trying to fix or change someone else.

“It’s about changing you, and making a commitment to changing yourself. Seeing that your reactions [in anger] are not helping you or your relationship grow.” Bergquist says she likes the book’s step-by-step workout approach because it helps to analyze how people sometimes label their own feelings as right or wrong.

It teaches simple, straightforward techniques and behaviors that one individual can use to disengage from conflicts, understand what’s triggering the anger, and how come back to the table to communicate more purposefully and effectively.

Let's face it: We all like to blame the other guy for problems, so it may be a radical shift to think about changing your own actions rather than blaming your ex- for everything that's wrong with the world, including global warming and the Iraq war. But if you're sick and tired of being ticked off all the time, following the workout book's steps can teach you to recognize your emotions for what they are -- just emotions -- and channel them more effectively, for you and everyone in your family.

Take care.

Gotta Fight? Keep It Out of Sight!

Good Lord, what were you thinking, Parenting? In an article about parenting myths picked up by CNN.com under the headline “ ‘Don’t Fight in Front of the Kids’ and Other Advice You Can Ignore,” (1/29/08) , author Fernanda Moore set about the tricky work of myth-busting the concept that parents shouldn’t fight in front of their kids. In just a handful of paragraphs, she posits that it’s perfectly ok to be seen “working through a disagreement with good will” and “it’s fine – even healthy –for kids to witness your arguments,” but what does the “good will” part mean, really?

It’s a question that remains glossily unanswered in the Parenting piece, and it’s one that should be addressed. Let’s face it, lots of folks have a pretty low baseline for good will – it may mean that they don’t use foul language or throw things now that the restraining order is in place. While getting physical is now out of the question, they do still slam doors, yell, and get very, very sarcastic as they argue. The very word “argue” suggests a heated back-and-forth. So how in the world is that good for kids to witness? I think the article gave short shrift to a very tricky issue for all parents.

I’ve got to disagree -- vehemently, but politely , of course -- with the misguided notion that kids benefit from witnessing their parents argue, and so do the experts I’ve interviewed for my upcoming book, “Families, Inc.” It’s the "Glamour Don’t” of co-parenting. Conflict between parents is a major de-stabilizer of kids in married and divorced families alike, according to reams of clinical evidence. It’s also just plain common sense.

In our house, The Bean’s job is to be a kid, and not a mute, powerless witness to conflict between the people she loves most and depends on for her very survival. I’m a firm believer that any issues between adults should stay in the background, so her life can be take the center stage in her dad’s home and mine. Her dad, and her stepdad and I all have a rule about this – no arguing in front of the kids. Period. Why? Because we all recognize that it is very difficult for hot-button issues to be discussed coolly, even by adults of good will who are trying to stay cool.

This is not to say that our daughter doesn’t recognize disagreements for what they are – and she asks about them, too. When conflicts arise, I’ll be the first to tell her, “Yep, Bean, we didn’t agree about something, so we have to work it out, but don’t worry, we will. Sometimes we don’t always see eye to eye. That’s just how things are in homes – just like with friends, or school, right?” She knows that squabbles between friends don’t always end up in Splitsville.

Next week: In Part 2 of this article, I’ll talk more about the “Glamour Do’s” of collaborative parenting when problems arise, with a few quick rules of engagement for the disengaged, and some resources and expert-recommended material that may help you get a handle on healthy ways to disagree – for your kids’ sake – and yours, too.

Take care.

My Overscheduled Child

“I can’t do it, but I have to do it! I’m overwhelmed,” my daughter, The Bean, shrieked, as she rocked anxiously in her desk seat. She stared down at a page of multiplication problems, the same kind of homework that she’d breezed through the night before. It was a 15-minute assignment, but it was taking eons. Sometimes, just doing simple things like homework takes on a life of its own at my house – and perhaps at yours, too. My kid has gotten straight As for the last couple of semesters and seems generally unfazed by schoolwork. So I wondered, what’s with the breakdown? Why was she so suddenly freaked out?

This is what I pondered in the moments that followed a no-holds-barred boo-hoo-fest that included The Bean running upstairs, flinging herself atop a particularly grungy and timeworn stuffed bear and wailing like a banshee. The boo-hooing was also unusual. The frantic behavior reminded me of someone else – me, usually as I’m banging away at the laptop with one eye darting from screen to whatever’s bubbling on the kitchen stove to the clock and back again, because work time sometimes runs into overtime here at the home office of Families, Inc.

You see, The Bean's got art lessons…and gymnastics lessons…and there’s twice-weekly chorus practice…and CCD…and after-school program…and Girl Scouts….the school talent show…and the enrichment program in school … and journalism club … and play dates …and sleepovers...commitments are everywhere. Even as I write this, I begin to feel a sense of impending cataclysm rising in my own chest. I feel a ball about to drop. I feel – overscheduled. And it isn’t even my schedule! Last week, as we roamed through a craft store, I could see the giddy, gleeful look in her eye as she contemplated new activities. She announced, “I want to take knitting lessons!” as we passed a flyer touting classes for kids.

“There’s time in your life to take lots of lessons – but you don’t have to take them all at one time,” I said, which garnered a muted protest. It’s a phrase I picked up from her dad, who has The Bean at his house about half the time. We talk a lot – and sadly for him, I definitely do most of the talking, but coparenting a kid in two houses means there’s lots to discuss, whether we feel like it or not.

My daughter loves to try new things, and so her dad and I have let her –probably to the point where we’ve enabled her. We’ve encouraged her to get involved and take lessons and participate in clubs. And, because we live in two different homes, her scheduling involves the endless emailing of appointments, carefully sent back and forth into the Microsoft Outlook calendars that her dad and I maintain for just this purpose, permission slips that pass back and forth to be reviewed and signed, checks to be made out by one or the other of us. In our mutual defense, we do draw the line – no late-night homework, downtime after dinner is a must, early bedtimes on weeknights.

But how much fun is too much fun? How do you tell when you’ve overdone it? I came to realize that my daughter’s problem wasn’t really with math – it was really more of an issue about not having enough downtime, to just hang out and be a kid.

And she’d been trying to tell us, in her way. We just weren’t able to hear it at first. In retrospect, I can see that she actually hit the tipping point a few weeks ago, when we signed her up for Saturday morning art lessons. Yes, our daughter loves making art, but she also loves her Saturday mornings, which have historically been dedicated to two things – and two things only, in both of our houses: 1) Hanging out in PJs and 2) watching cartoons or reading. Variations on that theme include a) eating pancakes or bagels and b) watching a movie. Now, she wanted the art lessons, and after discussing this with her and her dad, we agreed to make the commitment to a six-week session. And the follies began on Week 2, when the foot-dragging, whining and push-back began. Our normally compliant daughter didn’t want to go – and it wasn’t because the lessons weren’t fun. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why, but she just couldn’t seem to pry herself from the gravitational pull of the sofa in time to get ready. And, several weeks later, after each of us giving motherly and fatherly sermons on starting what you finish, the tug of war continued. There were a few bad-attitude fests that came out of nowhere. And a few bouts of tears. And a few rounds of “I can’t do its” that popped up in odd situations (like the math homework drama).

Long about Week 4 of the lessons, her dad and I compared notes – The Bean told her dad that she wanted to do the lessons after he’d encouraged her to tap into her native talent and “develop her brain,” but told me that she’d rather not do them after I’d observed that she seemed like she just wanted to hang out. Her dad and I debated online and on the phone about whether or not to sign her up for the next six sessions – and I pointed out that because we were getting two very different readings of the same situation, our daughter was probably trying to please the both of us and not herself.

Ultimately, after the “I’m overwhelmed” cry rattled the windows of my suburban Tudor, I got dad on the phone, explained the situation, and said, “I think she’s toast…we’d better pull the plug on some activity soon!” It didn’t have to be art class, but it was the last activity we’d “hired,” which made it logical for art to be the first “fired.” We agreed to pull the plug on art.

All of this focused, scheduled time had taken its toll, and the limited amount of time she actually has to just be a kid, zone out, play with her toys or watch a favorite show, was not enough to replenish her body and brain. So, I made a unilateral decision to dial down the activity level at my house. Over the last few days, we’ve spent time building models, watching TV, going to the bookstore, and turned off the TV to read in our jammies. After just a few extra hours of chill time, The Bean seems to be back to her cool, enthused self again. Math is just math, not a threat to her survival.

After witnessing her revival, I reminded myself that it wouldn’t be such a bad thing for me to close the laptop for good at dinner time, put on my jammies and join her on the couch. And art class? Art class is fired, so The Bean gets her languid Saturday mornings back, unscheduled, and we get her back, unfrazzled. If a hole opens up in her schedule, I won’t be so tempted to entertain the subject of art lessons, knitting class or bungee jumping. Enough already. This kid’s schedule is full enough.

Is your kid overscheduled? Check out “The Over-Scheduled Child” by child psychologist Alvin Rosenfeld and Nicole Wise. (St. Martin’s Griffin, $13.95)

Welcome to Families, Inc.!

Life is large, and if you’re divorced, co-parenting, or married again with his-and-her kids, you know life tends to get even larger. For me, it continues to spread out like an oil spill: big, messy and hard to contain, but full of fuel for the fire.
I’m writing a book on co-parenting after divorce, called “Families, Inc.,” so stay tuned for updates, excerpts, and occasional shameless self-promotion.
My new life incorporates all sorts of personnel I never would’ve imagined in my nascent, Barbie-and-Ken dreams of love and marriage. Now I have ex-in-laws and new in-laws, step-kids and step-pets all sharing space in my somewhat overloaded synapses, not to mention my ex-, his ex-, and their respective partners, all exchanging email, letters, phone calls, pleasantries, raised eyebrows and kids in a sometimes choreographed but frequently very ungainly ballet.
If you’re like me, you’ve got kids in tow, which means you’re probably involved in shuttling sports equipment, shoes, report cards, science projects, dioramas and a seemingly endless inventory of collateral that would make even the most seasoned air-traffic controller lose his mind. How the heck do we do it all? If you haven’t just gone ahead and illegally cloned yourself in some French laboratory, read on.
I was one kind of mom before I got divorced – the one who took it for granted that my first family would be my one and only. Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.
I’ve recently adopted a new motto: “Life Is Not for Sissies.” Once in awhile, though, more often now that in years past, I look over the top of my ever-present laptop to watch my daughter and husband engaged in a vicious, winner-take-all tickle fight, and I think that it’s all working out, by some miracle.
As the official air-traffic controller of this family, the miracle is that I can remember to put everything I can think of on an Outlook calendar; I talk to my ex-husband more now than I probably did when we were married; I can still find mittens; I keep the step-cat fed, and make it to school for the 3 p.m. pickup every day without losing my job.
So, in this blog I’ll be talking about parenting, news of the day, and my family, as it continues to move, morph, and shape-shift – and will be looking forward to hearing and reading your points of view.