I was that child that didn't want to go to Daddy's. Nobody was cruel. I wasn't beaten, or denied food and shelter — I just didn't want to go. We didn't really do anything at my Dad's. We "hung out". Which is fine when you have your friends and your toys, your books, etc. But when you've got nothing but your sleeping bag (see earlier blog), it's kind of dull. But there was more to it than just boredom. I felt secure with my Mom, and I wanted to stay with her and the things I knew rather than go to my Dad's where there were new and unknown things. There was a new stepmother, and her whole family, and while they were all very nice (I even called my stepmother's mother Grandma Ellen) — it was all so different. And I didn't know my place. As a 5 year-old, I wasn't much of an adventurer, I guess.

And so, for these reasons, and some others I've left out — I didn't want to go to my Dad's. And maybe your child doesn't either. What do you do? I decided to ask my Mom what she did. She told me that when we were young, she just made us (though she did admit to a time or two when I made such a fuss that she threw in the towel and called up and told my Dad that we were sick). She said that she spoke to me about why I didn't want to go and tried to talk to my Dad and Stepmom, etc. but that what she realized was that I was right. That my Dad and Stepmom were different from her, and that the life we lived with them was different from the life that we lived with her. While we may not have liked it, and while she may not have liked it — different wasn't necessarily bad, and she couldn't prevent our father from seeing us. And it was probably for the best. I suppose it taught me about making the best of things, and about discovering that something you fear (like a new stepfamily) can turn into something you enjoy.

I spent over 10 years going to my Dad's House every other weekend, being picked-up on Friday and dropped off on Sunday, and if there is one thing I would share it's this — Insist that your Ex pick-up and drop-off the children.

My parents didn't really get along while I was growing up. My Dad never paid his very meager child support and my Mom was always going after him for it. As a result, I think my Dad did everything in his power to avoid my Mom. And this is the thing about the drop-off — its one time, every week, where they had to see each other. Only they didn't. As soon as my Step-mother was in the picture, my Dad sent her in his place. Right now you're probably asking yourself, like my Mother asked herself, "Well, what am I supposed to do about the way he behaves?" You probably feel that your hands are tied, and maybe they are. So all I want to suggest is this: Try. If he's avoiding you, and the drop-off altogether, by sending a stepmother, girlfriend, relative — talk to him. My Dad wasn't a "Bad Guy". He was just taking the easy way out, and I guess what I'm suggesting is that you make that a little harder for him to do.

My parents divorced when I was 4 and my brother was 1, but even being that young I can clearly remember the day my Dad first took us to his new home. It was a one-bedroom apartment in Jamaica, Queens, and coming from our sweet suburban house on Long Island, it seemed very shocking — like we had just been taken to a foreign country. I remember thinking that I would really have to look after my little brother now that we were spending weekends in "the city". When we got into the elevator, I remember that it was painted bright yellow; my Dad looked at me and said, "I told them to paint it yellow because it is my daughter's favorite color." And I felt better. We were still in the scary city, but I felt that maybe my brother and I would be OK here. (Years later that comment would come back to me and all of sudden I would realize that my Dad was joking and that of course they hadn't painted the elevator yellow for me — and I'll admit, I was a little disappointed at that...) What I realize now is that, in that comment, my Dad made me feel that I was a part of this new place too.

Whether it's a house in the 'burbs or an apartment in the city, that new home, at first, will be totally foreign to the kids. And it's important to accept that. Don't try to force the kids to love it or to feel like it's their 2nd home. It's going to take time — the way it would for any person in a new space.