Whenever I hear that Rihanna song that starts, “We found love in a hopeless place,” I think of JDate. When I was filling out my JDate profile after my divorce, I knew exactly what I wanted in a new relationship: a guy my age who had never been married before. I wanted to start fresh. Never mind that I had two kids from my previous marriage. At 34, surely I was young enough that that wouldn’t matter. I wanted someone who lived in New York, the city I loved. And all of that was why I decided to lie.

It was only a little lie, I told myself, as I typed into my profile that I lived in New York. In fact, I lived in New Jersey, where I spent most of my time either working or chauffeuring incontinent people in car seats to nursery school. New York had a bigger pool of the kind of people I wanted to meet, I thought – people who wouldn’t give me a second glance if they knew I lived in the Sopranos’ state.

I dated rampantly, for lack of a better word. I was an equal opportunity dater, and dated everyone from Orthodox guys well versed in esoterica of Jewish law (I liked the kohen who told me that while he couldn’t marry a divorcee, there was hope for me yet. Since I was only separated, maybe my ex would drop dead, thus rendering me a marriage-eligible widow instead) to atheists who were, in fact, married (not separated. Married. Truly). I knew I’d gotten it wrong the first time, and there was some small part of me that knew that I didn’t know what I wanted. Something in me told me: if it’s not a good date, it’ll at least be a good story.

Fast forward two years. I see a guy online who looks somewhat normal. Contrary to one of my cardinal rules (‘Always let the guy email you first’), I email him. He responds. We talk on the phone.  He confesses that he had lied about his age on line to cast a wider net. I tell him I lied about my state of residence. He asks me if I would be willing to have more children. I decide he’s a weirdo and tell him, “Let’s meet for dinner first and see how it goes.” Hell, what’s one more date with one more weirdo? The guy then proceeded to show up for our date twenty minutes late. Nice. Read the rest of this entry →

• Posted in Parenting
• Tags: birthdays, Divorce, Jdate, Love

Moses, our new dog.

Yes, you read that correctly.

I had no idea they were so upset. They chose not to discuss it with me and instead talked to other family members, digging for dirt and gossiping about me in an attempt to build a case that I am a person who is not “honest, truthful, or loving.” Those are their exact words as written in a nine-page rant that is the most hateful letter I have ever read (since high school). The letter arrived after my birthday trip to Vegas. What a welcome home! While I was away, my in-laws cornered my husband and laid out their argument against me. They offered their home for him and our son to escape to and threw themselves behind him if he should want to divorce me.

My husband admits that he participated in a hypothetical discussion about divorce, and he deeply regrets it. It is no secret that my husband and I have been bickering since we got to Austin. We’ve been dealing with unemployment, infertility, finances, family issues, going into business together, and adjusting to a new city. Each of these alone would introduce stress into a marriage, and we’ve been facing them simultaneously. When his parents confronted him on the first night they saw him, he had been caring for a sick child all day, hadn’t slept well in a week, was battling a nasty sinus infection, and was trying to placate parents that he trusted and idolized. I love my husband dearly and I forgive him for being indiscreet. Read the rest of this entry →

• Posted in Parenting
• Tags: Divorce, dogs, Marriage, mother-in-law, puppies

Two months ago, I took one of our 12 suitcases out of storage, dusted it off, opened it up, and crammed in all my clothes, three photo albums, my mom’s journals, a bag — (ok, fine, three bags) — of assorted hair and makeup products that I had collected before leaving Los Angeles, the soft zebra dress M. wore as a baby, and the tiny cotton onesie with the sheep parading up and down the middle that Little Homie wore for the first month after he was born.

And I left the kibbutz.

And while the taxi roared out the big yellow gate and down the winding road lined with fragrant eucalyptus trees, shattering the stillness of the starless night, it occurred to me that I had forgotten something: My family.

B. and I tried, but we couldn’t make it work.

Our marriage was broken. And over the last several months instead of trying to Krazy Glue the fuck out of the pieces, I ground my high heel boots into them.

Dust to dust.

“Where the hell am I going to go?” I asked myself over and over and over during dark nights while I rode around and around and around the kibbutz on my shiny purple bicycle. “What am I going to do?”

I don’t do well when I feel trapped — I get twitchy and edgy, and I lash out like an angry beast. I hiss. I growl. I bite. And ultimately, I knew the only way out, was to get out. Read the rest of this entry →

• Posted in Parenting
• Tags: Divorce, featured, Hanukkah, Israel, kibbutz, Kibbutz Barbie

Ronia occupies Philly.

A month or so ago, I attended a panel on the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions movement at a synagogue in Brooklyn. My daughter Ronia, 3, was in tow.

Dubious of the deserted childcare facilities on a weekday evening, Ronia scanned the room. She spotted the seven people on stage, waiting to begin their confab. She turned to me and asked, “Are we going to have a chance to go up there and speak?”

I was touched. Three years old and she had not learned the sometimes arbitrary routes by which some people speak and others listen.

When that forum took place, Occupy Wall Street was a curiosity less then a week old. Its major results at that point were inspiring critiques from established activist groups about how they were doing it wrong. But when it took off, I knew I had to be part of it. Having spent some time at Occupy Wall Street, I very much wanted Philly to have a similarly strong Jewish presence. I plugged in the best way I knew how, organizing the “Jewish stuff,” starting with the Kol Nidre services. Read the rest of this entry →

• Posted in Parenting
• Tags: Divorce, occupy wall street, protest, single dad

Let’s not beat around the bush: divorce sucks. There’s the legal frustrations, the emotional hardships, and if kids are in the mix, a lot of figuring out to do. One thing to consider is how Judaism fits into your child’s future, and making sure that both parents are on the same page. The following advice is from Jennifer Mittelman, a coach and attorney who helps folks navigate through these major life transitions. Visit her coaching website at www.yourbrickroad.com.

Parents getting a divorce have a lot of things to work out. And it may be easy to overlook how Judaism fits in. Here are a few benchmarks to help focus you on determining what is best for your child’s Jewish development:

1. Set forth a clear understanding in any custody/parenting agreement of how your child’s Jewish observance and learning shall be fostered.

Don’t rely on a general agreement to make decisions jointly, particularly if you and your spouse had differing levels of observance (or different religions!) before and/or during the marriage. If possible, specify which synagogue your children will be members of (or, at least commit to having your children attend a synagogue that is affiliated with an agreed-upon branch of Judaism) and that both parents will work to ensure a high percentage of attendance at Hebrew School until your child reaches whatever milestone you feel appropriate. Don’t assume that just because you’ve been doing one thing during the marriage that post-divorce things will continue. Get it in writing. A little planning goes a long way.

2. Set forth a clear understanding of how your child’s Bar/Bat Mitzvah will be celebrated and paid for.

When your son or daughter is practicing a Torah portion while trying to make time for soccer, the school play and homework simultaneously, the last thing he or she needs to be concerned about is a disagreement between the two of you over how to celebrate the upcoming special day. Negotiate a solution that the two of you would be able to live with in the event you could not agree otherwise. You always have the option of working together in the future to make an alternate plan if it’s something your child wants and you both agree. Make sure to specify how an Oneg Shabbat (a gathering with food and drinks after services), party, or trip to Israel, will be financed.

3. Hammer out any other details that can be agreed upon during negotiation and get them in your agreement, even if you think they seem obvious.

If you agree on a level of kashrut for your child, Israel trips in high school, Jewish day school, and/or Jewish youth group, spell it all out! You are most likely to be on the same page about your child’s Jewish observance while memories of the marriage are still fresh. Putting off these decisions until later because you both believe you’ll be able to make decisions together can be dangerous.

I once counseled a formerly orthodox Jew-by-choice who, by agreement, was given sole custody of the children. One month after the divorce agreement had been signed, she had no interest in continuing to practice Judaism. The parties’ parenting agreement only provided that the children would not be fed non-kosher meat. Nothing else was spelled out in terms of their Jewish education or observance, and the parents were unable to communicate.

4. Do not request having the children for Shavuot every other year if you have absolutely no plan to ever celebrate Shavuot!

This is an example of putting your child’s needs and interests ahead of your own. Your lawyer may tell you that you are entitled to an equal split of holidays. But does that mean it’s a good idea? What if, by insisting on Shavuot in even years, you are depriving your child of celebrating a holiday s/he truly enjoys, every other year? Get over “giving up” time and get on board with prioritizing your child’s interests, particularly if you are committed to fostering Judaism in your child’s life.

Want more advice about divorce? Learn about getting a post-nuptial agreement if you decide to stay home with the kids.

• Posted in Parenting, Traditions
• Tags: contracts, Divorce, Jewish living, separation

I remember meeting, on several occasions, with the rabbi who was going to perform our wedding ceremony.  My future husband and I were surprised when he told us we needed to sign a Jewish prenuptial agreement.  He asked us to determine an amount of money that my future husband would pay me, on a daily basis, in the event he refused to give me a get (a Jewish divorce).  Our rabbi suggested a large sum, and my husband and I laughed as I told him to triple it!  Divorce was the furthest thing from our minds, and I knew that my husband was not the type who would refuse to give me a get.  Since both of us knew this was never a document we would be using, my husband readily agreed to triple the amount and we signed it.

Looking back, our rabbi was really on to something. What better time to get a future spouse to agree to something then when he or she is happy and excited about the marriage, and divorce is far from anyone’s mind?  And while every other week the magazine covers in the supermarket checkout line talk about one celebrity or another signing or not signing a pre-nup, most people have not heard of, or considered, a post-nuptial agreement.

Let me be clear: I do not believe everyone needs a post-nuptial agreement, which is a contract between spouses outlining what will happen financially, or otherwise, in the event the marriage breaks down.  However, if you have given up your career (or taken a very long hiatus) to raise children and manage the household, I am suggesting that you at least use this article as food for thought. Read the rest of this entry →

• Posted in Parenting
• Tags: Divorce, Marriage, stay at home moms, work-life balance

• Posted in Parenting
• Tags: Dads, Dating, Divorce

My boyfriend’s 3-year-old was in town this weekend. She stayed with her aunt, but we got in a fair amount of quality time over two days. This has been our strategy over the past year.

I don’t spend lots of time with Ronia, mainly because we live in different cities, and most of the time that I’m with her dad she’s with her mom. But if, as seems likely, Jesse and I move in together sometime in the next couple of years, I will be spending lots of time with Ronia, and I want that to be a positive thing for both of us. So we try to practice, whenever we can, which isn’t that often.

But this isn’t how parenthood usually works. I didn’t bond with Ronia as an infant (though I have known her since she was born, and in a freaky coincidence, I have a picture of my mother, who died three years ago, holding a 5-month-old Ronia) and I don’t have tons of happy memories of carrying her around in a sling, watching her learn to walk and talk and sing. She has become an important part of my life as a 3-year-old, and as my own dad loves to remind me, my parents found that 3 was a much tougher age than 2.

Ronia has to deal with her parents’ marriage ending, and both of them finding new partners. It would be a lot for anyone, and I think overall she has been a trouper, but there is certainly a healthy dose of whining and inopportune peeing these days. Read the rest of this entry →

• Posted in Parenting
• Tags: babysitting, Divorce

Jesse & Ronia

I don’t know when Fathers’ Day is this year, or even where the apostrophe goes in its name. My daughter is still too young for obligatory gratitude, though she can still melt my heart by saying “I want to be with daddy” on her good night phone message. Sometimes I cannot resist telling her how fortunate we are, how much more time we have spent together than many fathers and daughters, even with us living apart half the time.

When my daughter was little, I was a stay at home dad and now I work part time. So even though Ronia’s mother and I are now separated, Ronia and I get to spend a lot of time together. It is true we are lucky, but I have no idea how she will assess this over her own lifetime. How will she weigh having to negotiate two homes, the many times that she wanted the parent who was not there? I can’t say I will ultimately deserve her thanks–if she gives it–but the fact that she has already told me “thank you for doing my laundry!” will last me a long time.

Father’s Day, the day for my daughter to officially thank me, embarrasses me.

During the last Father’s Day together with Ronia’s mother, I was part of a Jewish father’s group. The mothers of these men’s children wanted to show their appreciation with all the fierceness you would expect from such a group. After a vast number of emails, they settled upon stainless steel water bottles bearing the label “Peace, Love, and Abba.” Mother’s Day had gone uncommemorated by us abbas collectively, but it did provide my estranged wife and me with a rare moment of bonding at the ridiculousness of it all.

My reluctance to accept praise for my fathering, on Father’s Day or otherwise, was nicely encapsulated by Michael Chabon’s excellent Manhood for Amateurs, a Jewish American man’s user manual if ever there was one. He relates an episode at a crunchy Berkeley grocery store where a woman accosts him. “You’re a good dad, I can tell!” She tells him. Chabon goes on to explain that we would never evaluate mothers so casually.

Once a year, maybe, and on certain fatal birthdays, and at our weddings or her funeral, we might collate all the available data, analyze it, and offer our irrefutable judgment: good mother.

I don’t want to give myself or other fathers too much praise, feeling how the creep of low expectations, of “I could always be worse,” sneaking in. But I feel like at a certain point, I do need to celebrate. I enjoy many a problematic holiday, Jewish and secular alike, so why not hold onto something this Father’s Day? That after a year of school, and over a year of separation my daughter and I still feel close?

So for one day, I am going to try to set aside my self- and other father-deprecation and celebrate a bit. And usually I find the way to enjoy a festive occasion more is to widen it.

On this Fathers’ Day, let us honor the working class men who form the bulk of stay at home dads. Let’s honor the queer dads, who now must not pretend to be straight to become fathers. Let me honor my own dad who confounded rural Wisconsin by rarely being seen without his own children in tow. Little did I know when he dragged me to hardware store after hardware store that something pro- and trans-gressive was occurring! And finally let us hoist our stainless steel water bottles to all the mothers, our own, our children’s, who have set such a wonderfully high bar should we actually try to aspire to it.

Looking for the right book to get dad for Father’s Day? Check out this list.

• Posted in Parenting
• Tags: Dads, Divorce, Father's Day

• Posted in Parenting
• Tags: Dating, Divorce, Friends