Cocoa Pebbles. Sierra Mist. Eggo Waffles with Aunt Jemima syrup. None of these products were a part of my children's food vocabulary before I started dating my current boyfriend; likewise, before I came along, his kids were blissfully unaware of such grocery list items as Barbara's Organic Shredded Oat cereal, Annie's Organic Macaroni and Cheese, and basically, anything green (unless said emerald hue was achieved through a cocktail of chemical colorants, e.g., Sour Apple Now & Laters).

Jacqueline Burt is a freelance journalist living in Connecticut who frequently contributes to the Ne...read more

Don't get me wrong; I'm not trying to make myself out to be the superior parent here - not by a longshot. The differences between my boyfriend's style and my own don't end in the kitchen. Where he could pick up a few nutritional pointers from me, I can definitely take a lesson or two from him in the discipline department: It was only with his encouragement that I (a renowned pushover) was able to at last make my two-year-old son sit through a two-minute time-out (take that, Supernanny!).

Without his support, I might not have had the courage to consistently remind my somewhat introverted six-year-old daughter to make eye contact and say "Hello" when addressed by (safe) grown-ups, instead of trying to cover for her behavior with my usual lame line ("Oh, don't mind Charlotte, she's just being shy!").

Clearly we can both learn from each other's strengths and weaknesses. That's one of the great things about dating another single parent. But it's not quite as simple an equation as two-parts-discipline minus one-part-junk-food equals balanced family life.

For one thing, there's each child's individual personality to be taken into account, and when you put our broods together, we have five unique personas to deal with. Some of our kids are more open to changes in the daily routine (usually his) others are more resistant (usually mine). Their ages span from two-and-a-half to 15. One strategy does not fit all.

Then there's what I call the "Hey, why do I have to listen to that guy?" factor. For example, once the novelty of soda with dinner at my boyfriend's house wore off, the reality of having to help clean up the dishes like everybody else (a chore I was long overdue in imposing) set in for my daughter. After the fun of having an adult female around who consented to playing the High School Musical soundtrack in the car faded, the harsh fact of having to share Daddy's cuddles with another woman hit for my boyfriend's younger girls.

It was as if, suddenly, our collective kids realized that enemy forces were infiltrating their previously cozy little families. I can't blame them for feeling that way. We spend quite a bit of time in Brady Bunch mode; otherwise, between afterschool schedules, childhood illnesses, lack of babysitting and the like, my boyfriend and I would hardly ever see each other. I know it's hard for them to adjust to. I just don't know how to make it easier.

On my more optimistic days, I plan out all sorts of positive bonding activities in my head: A Baking Night, for example, where all the kids could contribute to a cookie-making project. Or a Family Game Night, recommended by so many "experts," when everyone sits around the Monopoly board eating fresh-popped popcorn and laughing gaily. Then I picture my two-year-old grabbing game pieces and throwing them on the floor, the older girls arguing about whose turn is it really, and my daughter whining that she just wants to go home, to our house, and I think, Oh, the hell with it. Maybe I should just drop out of this whole dating thing.

How can I possibly meet the emotional needs of my children, someone else's children, and a romantic interest? In exposing - and subjecting - my kids to another family's rules and regulations on a daily basis, am I broadening their horizons? Am I giving them the opportunity to learn life skills they wouldn't otherwise learn from me? Or am I just putting my own parenting agenda and better judgment aside because of the way I feel about some guy?

My mother was a single parent, too. Her solution to the whole dating dilemma was to avoid it entirely. (No exaggeration. She didn't have a single boyfriend while I was growing up, and it wasn't for lack of offers.) As a kid, I never had to mind a man who wasn't my biological relative. I never had to share my mother, and to tell the truth, that suited me just fine.

But I do remember picking up on my mother's loneliness, and wishing that she wasn't sad. If she'd been in a relationship that made her happy, maybe, ultimately, I would have been better off - even if her boyfriend or husband or whoever made me clean up the dishes and learn to live amicably with kids who weren't my siblings.

Especially if he let me eat Cocoa Pebbles for breakfast. ...read more blogs