Previously Known As Chopperpapa.com

      It’s always amazed me that second marriages end in statistically higher rates of divorce. I would think that enduring one of the most difficult times in a persons’ life might leave a more lasting impression. It might teach us a thing or two. I can appreciate the passion of those who swear off marriage, though for most that’s a short-lived position. But what I don’t get are those who remarry, perhaps several times, only to have the same result. It reminds me of that old, but true saying, ‘fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.’       The effects hit close to home for me. In our small group of seven, all remarried, couples, one couple divorced shortly after we formed and two others may well be on their way. While each story was different, they all share a common thread that I think gets to the root of why so many second marriages hit the wall.   They never embrace the larger blessing of divorce.  **       Divorced dating necessitates retelling your story over and o

“I have been in a serious committed relationship with my boyfriend for almost two years, and his children do not even know that he is dating.”      With that, I knew there would be problems. Much of this site has been dedicated to answering the challenges of dating single and divorced fathers. I’ve tried to give women a clearer understanding of how single dads think and feel while they balance relationships, kids, divorce, and exes. I’ve attempted to explain why single dads may behave in some of the ways they do. Yet I’ve encouraged patience with him, especially with the man who seems resistant to introduce his kids, and I’ve cautioned not to use that, meeting his children, as some litmus test for commitment.       But I’ve also written that eventually, and always, the day must come. If their relationship has any chance of long-term success, and perhaps marriage, his children – or more likely their children-  will impact that relationship in good and not-so-good ways. So it’s best to u

          For over a decade, my most widespread fear, the one thought staying with me, like a vampire clinging to the soul, was how my divorce would affect the relationship with my children. How would they regard a father diluted but whose love was still pure; a dad whose time and attention were court ordered? Someone who often resembled the fun uncle instead of a parent. Would I ever eclipse their sun the way my father did mine? Or, would I fade into an afterthought; a few lines in the larger story of their lives?       This anxiety has been the motivation behind many of the steps I’ve tread along this fatherhood journey. A determination birthed in doubt and worry. I have often handcrafted traditions just to serve as mile markers in their childhood memory. The tangible evidence they did have a daddy, and he was there.   **  This is what stuck in my mind reading through a recent email from a soon to be divorced father. He writes,  “My kids (2 1/2 and 15 months) are both boys. I am havi

        Can it even be argued that bashing an ex is not one of the most fulfilling things in life? It might be better than counseling. This is especially so if that ex did something especially nasty. Lying, cheating, or as I recently saw in my inbox, sleeping with your parent, almost necessitates throwing the person under the bus. But besides the therapeutic benefits, it can be a great way to bond with someone new. Because chances are they have a few of their own ex stories to share. Upon learning you are not the only one cheated on – or whose ex slept with one of your parents – it is like the doors of heaven start swinging open, and stars begin moving into alignment.  That person inches a bit closer to ‘perfect.’ We all know the importance of finding things in common. Sharing our war stores in this game of love can often be magnetic.  This is especially true when it comes to divorce.       When the Queen and I learned that our former spouses were both Jewish, our connection amped up.

          The recent and earth-shaking announcement that Playboy Magazine, after more than a half century, will stop publishing nudity is perhaps the best illustration to the natural and inescapable consequence of pornography.       All but the most pious know at least some of the history behind Hugh Hefner’s journey to revolutionize sex and masculinity. Anyone with an Internet connection knows where that journey has led.  Generations of boys were ushered into the throws of puberty through its sultry pages. With each one warmly recounting the precise moment their juvenile worlds were forever changed.       For me, it was 1979 in the back room of an abandoned farmhouse in Yellow Creek Hollow Tennessee. Sitting on a shelf next to a half empty pouch of Red Man Chewing tobacco was the first Playboy I would ever open. Everything about her has now faded into the ether, but what remains vivid nearly four decades later is the shock, awe, and otherworldliness I experienced that day; a cosmic ev