A Soldier's Guide to Single Parenting

Setting a Good Example Part 1

"David, are you listening to me?"

"Yes."

"Then what did I just say?"

"You asked me not to make a mess."

"I mean it, I don't wanna come home tonight and have to start cleaning up after you. That applies to you too, Jon."

"I know, Dad."

"Anyone coming over today?"

"Just Simon."

'Simon...again. The kid lives here'.

"Is Suzanne up?" The two boys looked at each other and shook their heads. "Can one of you please go and check to see if she's awake?" I took a gulp of coffee and glanced at my watch. I was cutting it fine; I should have left by now, but my pleas for help were falling on deaf ears. I waved my hand in front of David's face to get a reaction.

"What?" he said. "I'm not going into her room."

"I'll go," said Jon scraping back his chair, but as he ran in his pajamas to the stairs, his sister was already coming down.

"Okay, okay, I'm here," said Suzanne. She yawned and gave me a quick smile before frowning at the clutter on the table and scanning the rest of the kitchen with a critical eye. I was relieved to see her but felt guilty about the mess.

"Boys; can you clear-up after yourselves, please?" It was a rhetorical question, but Jon responded with a mischievous grin and a mouthful of oatmeal. "That's disgusting, Jon."

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll clean the house," said Suzanne. "I'm home for most of the day." I was grateful for all the help I could get, but she was looking increasingly weary of late.

"Thanks, dear. Oh, Bobby hasn't had his breakfast, and he needs a bath. Sorry."

"I'll take Bobby in the shower with me," said Jon, but David didn't look up from his magazine.

"Shouldn't you be going," said Suzanne. "You're going to be late."

"I'm already late, dear. I'll see you all tonight, be good, kids. Any problems, call me."

"I can never get through to you at work, your line's always busy," said Jon.

"Then leave a message on the answering machine, I'll get back to you, I promise." I took a deep breath, kissed Suzanne on the forehead, and headed for the door. "And if you're all gonna be out at the same time, will somebody please lock the back door."

I left the house to a chorus of grumbles, but these things needed to be said. The previous week, I came home one day to find the house empty and the back door wide open. There wasn't enough communication between them, and they lacked discipline and self-control.

Those were skills I learned in the military but had failed to pass on to my offspring, although not through lack of trying. I didn't think I was asking a great deal. I just needed them to meet me halfway and share some of the burdens until I was able to become more organized.

Managing four kids and a dog was never easy, even when Kate was there, but as a single parent, it was proving more difficult than I imagined and at times near impossible.

The problem was my job; I worked downtown, at the City Hall, in the building everyone loved to hate. It may have been one of the ugliest buildings in the world, but it housed one of the best employers in the state. The City Council. They had a policy of employing veterans, and I was one of the lucky ones who were able to take advantage. I got a lot more job satisfaction from fighting the Vietcong in South East Asia than I did organizing repairs on Main Street, but the $14,000 a year salary was more than double what the Army paid me.