by Roger McEwan
Published by Palmerston Press
26 Marne Street
Palmerston North 4410
[email protected]
First published 2017
Copyright © Roger McEwan, 2017
The right of Roger McEwan to be regarded as the author of this work in terms of the Copyright Act 1994 is hereby asserted.
All rights reserved. This book is copyright. Apart from fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without the prior written permission of the publisher.
ISBN 978-0-473-39232-1 (print)
ISBN 978-0-473-40603-5 (ebook)
Ebook and cover designed by Smartwork Creative, www.smartworkcreative.co.nz
Cover photography by Bernadette Peters, www.bernadettepeters.co.nz
Edited by Geoff Walker
Introduction
One of the most valuable reflections that’s come out of my experiences as a single dad is: Have a great relationship with your ex. I’d like to say have an outstanding one, a superb one, but I’m a realist and I imagine most people would settle for a great relationship. If you can do that, you’ll make your life less complicated, troubled and stressful.
More importantly, it will enhance your children’s lives because they’re the ones stuck in the middle of your relationship with your ex, and they always will be. It’s your children who suffer when you and your ex tangle in an effort to prove who’s best or right.
So: Have a great relationship with your ex. This is obviously hard in the early days of a separation, especially if the split is acrimonious. But, over time, if you create an environment that allows wounds to heal then you can develop a great relationship. Yes it’s hard, but it’s not impossible.
This isn’t a self-help book. I haven’t been to the mountain where I discovered the answers that will let you, no matter what your personal circumstances, be the world’s best single dad and have a fulfilling relationship with your children. Any book sold on that premise will ultimately prove to be a disappointment. There are many practical and constructive insights in this book which you can try, but I doubt you can learn how to be a great parent from just reading a book or taking a parenting course. They naturally help but I think you become a better parent by putting the lessons into practice and then learning from your own experience. When your children finally leave the nest you’ll have either clocked up twenty years’ parenting experience or one year’s experience twenty times. It’s entirely up to you.
Being able to reflect on and learn from your experiences is, I believe, one of the most important skills you can develop. People who have become great in any area of life didn’t start out that way. No one is born great at anything. For most it’s a slow, often painful, process over many long hours as they learn from their experiences and develop a sense of artistry.
So there’s no book or course on How to become a motor racing driver or Teach yourself to be a concert pianist. That’s not how the world works, even our accelerated, social-media-driven world in which the concept of delayed gratification seems merely an historical notion. Racing car drivers learn how to race by racing and how not to crash by crashing. Concert pianists learn through striking piano keys millions of times. There’s no magic wand.
While I don’t, and can’t, have all the answers, what I do have is my story, my experiences and my insights, which I’m delighted to share. Unfortunately, or fortunately, they’ve all been learned the hard way through over seven years and counting as a single dad.
I hope my journey will give you a clearer appreciation for how single dads, and dads in general for that matter, see the world. Based on what you read I also hope you may decide to try to change your own world for the better. It could be how you interact with your ex, your current partner or your children. Maybe you’ll simply try some of the ideas and see what happens. Advice and other people’s experience becomes most valuable when you put it into practice.
Therefore this isn’t a ‘how to do it’ book. It’s a ‘how I did it’ book that I hope will help you think about ‘how you’re going to do it’. It’s about how life worked, and at times didn’t work, for my two beautiful, clever, funny, painful, messy, creative, exasperating, weird and lovely children – and, of course, me. Albert Einstein said insanity is doing the same things over and over and expecting different results. In that spirit I tried a lot of things. I kept what worked and abandoned the rest and managed to keep my sanity.
Everyone is different and every situation unique, so what has been successful for me may not be for you. What’s important is that you reflect on what’s happening in your own world and work out what’s working and what isn’t.
Like everyone who suddenly finds themselves in the position of being a single parent, I had no experience to fall back on. In the early days every aspect of my separation felt weird and alien and I often wondered how I’d cope. If I’d cope. I didn’t have many single-dad friends whom I could turn to for advice, which strangely remains the case today.
I found out about life as a single dad as Liv, my daughter, used to say when she was little, ‘all by self’. It’s been through writing this book that I’ve come to the realisation that I’ve learnt far more about parenting and being a dad through being a single dad. I’ve experienced all the different roles you have to play when there’s nobody else around: a parent, a dad, a father, a stand-in mum, a confidant, always a butler or maid, a teacher and, most crucially, a friend.
My hope is that you will find this book entertaining as well as enlightening. I’ve had many ups and downs, but on the whole it has been an epic adventure and nothing at all like an ordeal.
1. Single
Single: Unmarried or not involved in a stable sexual relationship.
www.Oxforddictionaries.com
At the time of completing this book, I’ve just turned fifty. I’ve had to keep changing that number as it’s taken longer than I’d hoped to finish this book but, as you will see, I’m an optimist at heart. I’ve been a single dad for what feels like forever, but it’s now just over seven years which made me forty-three when Rose, my ex-wife, and I separated.
Seven years as a single dad is seven years longer than I planned. When I said ‘I do’ with Rose, I did. I meant till death us do part, honouring, obeying and all the rest of the fine print. Rose and I spent sixteen years together and for the vast majority of the time we were a model, happy couple. We fought at times but which couples don’t? Mostly it was as it was meant to be – loving and harmonious, and the children were always doted on.
One of the important facts about me is that I’m not famous. I’m not single-handedly raising my children in a mansion while coping with an unsympathetic media as I try to cure my addictions to sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll. Chance would be more than a fine thing. I’m trying to raise my children while working, studying, keeping the house clean, making lunches and dinners, writing and, right now, wondering how expensive it would be to be addicted to sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll.
I grew up and still live in Palmerston North, New Zealand, which can be charitably described as a great place to raise children and uncharitably as dull. It’s not as bad as John Cleese, who was probably having a bad day, made out when he called it ‘the suicide capital of New Zealand’. It’s relatively small, with a population of around 80,000, but it’s big enough to have all the amenities you need for a great family life – quality education, affordabl
e housing and space in which to run and breathe. What it lacks is the dynamic pulse of a large city in which sports events, theatre, historic sites and the general hub-bub make you feel you’re in the centre of the world.
Compensating for this, Palmerston North has few of the issues that plague large cities – pollution, over-crowding, lack of living space, unaffordable housing unless you’re a millionaire, traffic, crime and, more recently and alarmingly, terrorism. Ordinary and typical are probably words that sum up Palmerston North.
Although I’ve lived here for most of my life, for a number of reasons I’m not a flag-waving fan. In fact it isn’t really through choice that I’m here at all. I’m trapped and have been for years. First it was through career success when I briefly flirted with scrambling up the corporate ladder, and who wants to leave a promising career? Then came the arrival of children. It was a matter of considerable irony that just at the time my children came along, so did my redundancy notice nipping that promising corporate career in the bud. More about that later.
Rose and I have two children. Rog was born in 2000 and then Liv (Olivia) in 2001. Yes, Rog has the same name as me, and no, it wasn’t part of a dynasty I’m trying to establish. By heck there’s been a Roger McEwan in the Manawatu for the last century, I’ll have you know. In fact, given some of the looks I’ve got over the years when Rog’s name comes to light, I often wish we’d named him something different.
The story, and the absolute truth, is that after we had a mid-term ultrasound to make sure everything was okay, we discovered we were having a boy – ‘Undoubtedly a boy’ were the sonographer’s actual flattering words. While Rose and I debated our first born’s name, we started calling the emerging bump ‘wee Rog’. After a few months of this, and in the absence of arriving at any other name that we could agree on, we named our new bundle of joy Roger. I’ve felt obliged to tell that story dozens of times.
As the children grew we decided to move out of the suburbs and bought a house on a huge section (1800sqm) on the outskirts of the city. That allowed us to kick back and relax or to charge around like lunatics, depending on the weather and everyone’s mood. Our home had two large lounges, and the children’s rooms were upstairs and incorporated a landing that was able to house all their toys. We renovated the kitchen – the ‘we’ part was me paying for someone to do the job right.
Our section also contained every sort of fruit tree you could imagine: peaches, apples, grapefruit, lemons, mandarins, tamarillos, figs, raspberries (which were divine), gooseberries, feijoas, blackberries, strawberries and red currants. Throw in a massive vegetable patch and we were in a prime location to raise children and pretty much follow in Tom and Barbara’s footsteps and live The Good Life.
To earn a living, post my unexpected redundancy, I started my own consultancy business, McEwan and Associates Ltd, which I have been running now for over a decade. It sounds grander than it actually is as I’m the director, manager and consultant. In other words, it’s just me and I don’t really have a range of enthusiastic associates. What self-employment gives me is the ability to juggle work, family and study, and that’s been invaluable for a single dad.
On the flip side, Palmerston North isn’t exactly the corporate capital of anywhere, and so I’ve had to turn my hand to a variety of tasks as well as hit the road from time to time in order to keep cash, the life blood of any business, rolling in. My main business interest, and love, is strategic management, which I also study and teach, although strategy contracts are rare. Not many people understand what strategic management is, fewer still in Palmerston North it seems.
On the surface everything was idyllic but, to cut a long story short, the relationship storms came and in mid-2008 Rose and I separated. Marriage that ends without someone dying, of natural causes that is, is often branded a failure but I think that’s wrong. My marriage didn’t fail, it simply didn’t last. Rose and I aren’t failures, we are successful, older and wiser parents and adults. Therefore my children aren’t from a broken home, they’re from two loving homes. Having both parents under the same roof is, I think, a pretty weak measure of relationship success or of a positive home environment.
Like everyone, Rose and I entered into our marriage and raising a family with no thought of what life might be like if it didn’t work out. Anyone having those thoughts shouldn’t wander down the aisle in the first place. In New Zealand when you separate you remain married in the eyes of the law. The only grounds for divorce is two years’ separation. Therefore it was my newly acquired ‘lack of a stable sexual relationship’ that found me classified, for the first time in a decade and a half, as single. Only this time a single dad.
I’m curious: what images come to mind when you picture a single dad looking after his children? Many people would imagine the scene as a bit of a shemozzle – the stereotype of a hassled grumpy dad yelling as the frozen dinner burns in the kitchen. I have had days like that, but they are memorable because they are the exception and nothing remotely like the rule.
Being a dad isn’t a chore either, something to be endured until I can mercifully drop my children back to their mum where they will be cared for properly and I can get on with my real life. It makes me wonder how much sharing, or more accurately off-loading, parental responsibilities is a driver for seeking a new partner. That will likely end in tears for all concerned.
BEHIND THE SCENES
To give you an idea of how things play out in our home, here is a typical scene. Family time in the McEwan home, take 1 …
INTERIOR (INT). MCEWAN HOME, LOUNGE – NIGHT
The lounge is warm and well lit. LIV is sitting on the couch, hypnotised by the TV with her feet tucked underneath her. A chef burbles away off screen and there is the faint sound of gunfire. The far door opens. DAD enters and walks between LIV and the TV.
DAD
(Loudly)
Bedtime and teeth.
DAD exits through the near door. LIV, taking no notice, remains hypnotised by the TV.
INT. MCEWAN HOME, OFFICE – NIGHT
ROG sits behind a computer fully engaged with whatever is on the screen. The sound of gunfire is loud. The chef can be heard faintly in the background. DAD enters and stares at ROG.
ROG
(Staring at his computer)
No.
ROG keeps playing, DAD remains still. DAD looks thoughtful then, smiling, slowly turns and exits.
INT. MCEWAN HOME, LOUNGE – NIGHT
DAD re-enters the lounge and moves closer to LIV who still hasn’t moved.
DAD
(Sweetly)
Bedtime, little one.
LIV
(Jumping up)
Hug.
LIV lunges at DAD who catches her, spins her around and starts marching her out the door.
DAD
Teeth.
INT. MCEWAN HOME, HALLWAY – NIGHT
DAD is marching LIV towards the bathroom.
LIV
(Spinning around, demanding but friendly)
Huggggg!
DAD, looking resigned, pauses then hugs LIV who, smiling, exits into the bathroom. The shot tracks into the bathroom where LIV is cleaning her teeth.
ROG
(Off screen, whispered)
The Father.
DAD turns and ROG gently connects with a jab to the stomach.
DAD
Mind the abs, mate.
ROG
You mean the flabs.
DAD
(Getting into a karate sparring pose)
Hilarious. Look as good when you are my age, I think not.
ROG
(Hands up, backs into his room and closes the door)
No, no.
DAD waits. ROG’S door is closed. LIV is cleaning her teeth.
DAD
(Loudly)
Half
hour reading time.
DAD exits. ROG emerges in pyjamas and enters the bathroom, where LIV is still cleaning her teeth.
INT. MCEWAN HOME, LOUNGE – NIGHT
DAD turns off TV, mercifully shutting up the chef, who is describing how to make a jus. DAD breathes out in relief and sits down where LIV was sitting. Silence.
LIV
(Off camera)
Move, butthead.
ROG
(Off camera)
You’re the butthead, Hobbit.
LIV
(Off camera, louder)
Daaaaad. It won’t get out of the way.
ROG
Shut it, Fatty.
DAD gently shaking his head and smiling. Two doors can be heard closing.
DAD
(Very loudly)
Reading, not games. I’ll be in to check.
DAD lies down flat on the couch and closes his eyes.
INT. MCEWAN HOME, LIV’S BEDROOM THIRTY MINUTES LATER – NIGHT
LIV is in bed reading a Jacqueline Wilson book. DAD sweeps into the room but stops frowning, looking at the mess.
DAD
(Shaking head)
Disgraceful.
LIV
(Yawning)
Hey, it’s creative.
DAD kicks clothes out of the way and tucks LIV into bed. LIV’S arms emerge and she hugs DAD and won’t let go. DAD tickles LIV and she lets go.
DAD
Good night.
LIV
Good night, Dad.
DAD turns out the light and exits. Shot tracks with DAD.
LIV
(Calling out off camera)
I love you.
DAD
(Calling out behind him)
I love you too.
INT. MCEWAN HOME, ROG’S BEDROOM – NIGHT
ROG is in bed reading a Sherlock Holmes book. DAD enters the room, stops and surveys the room and grunts.
ROG
(Continues reading)
What?
DAD harpoons his book with a modified karate strike and then fakes a strike to ROG’S stomach.