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I have often heard women say that "it's a man's world." While the truth of that statment may be rapidly changing, which might explain why I hear it less often today than yesterday, many areas of contemporary life certainly remain within the threatened boundaries of "man's world."

Only rarely have I heard anyone use the expression "it's a woman's world." As a man, and a father, and especially as a single father, I'm acutely aware of that piece of life that lies, still rather securely, within "woman's world." That area, of course, is parenting. While many dads are finally stepping up to the parenting plate, and being encouraged by moms to do so, many of us guys are acutely aware that
the "P" in PTA (a subject Martha Beck recently wrote about) stands for Mothers not Parents.

Unfortunately, a suspicion and lack of acceptance of dads as fully functioning parents, is not limited to the local PTA. I learned this lesson, rather dramatically, about twelve years ago. At that time my still intact family, consisting of a dad, a mom, and two daughtes, lived in Bayside, Queens. It was a warm Sunday afternoon and my wife and I were hosting a dinner party for three married couples and their seven assorted young children. The children had yet to be called upstairs from the basement playroom as the adults sat in the dining room savoring their appetizers and the obvious absence of nine children under the age of seven in the room.

As my wife and I juggled cooking, serving, smiling, and being witty hosts, our youngest daughter ran upstairs and into the kitchen in tears. She was clutching her groin and crying in pain. The other children trailing behind eventually explained that my two year old daughter had bounced up from the saddle on her spring mounted rockinghorse and come down ontop of one of the large springs. The insides of her thighs showed the obvious pinch marks. As all attempts to comfort my daughter failed, we began to get concerned about the possibility of internal damage. While not a couple who ran to the pediatrician's office often, we agreed that my daughter should be seen in the emergency room of North Shore University Hospital. As my wife was coordinating the kitchen, my brother-in-law (Peter, the pharmacist) and I took my little girl to the ER.

The three of us arrived at the ER, I told my story, and Peter and I remained in the small examing room while my child was taken care of. Fortunately, I was told that, except for an external bruise, there was no damage. The doctor left the room, I dressed my daughter, and opened the door to leave. That's as far as I got before Peter and I were stopped by two policemen. The two police began to question us because they and the hospital staff could not accept that a mother would allow her child's father and uncle to bring the child to the ER! Where, the cops wanted to know, was the child's mother? Although the hospital had my home address and telephone, as well as my wife's name, calling my home to speak with "the mother" was never done. Instead, the police were called. Like the medical staff, the police chose not to call "the mother" but to question the two males!

The real scarey thing is that, although I was offended and resented being questioned, I understood their suspicion and concern. In fact, in their place I might have done the same. Somehow fathers just don't evoke the same amount of trust and confidence as a mother.

So now a dozen years go by, my children number four not two, and my intact family is no longer intact. My twin sons, age five at the time, appear to be handling the marital separation well. In fact, they cannot actually remember the time when their mother and father lived together. To them, a father is someone they "live with" at regularly scheduled times. My two girls, however, are another story. They feel the emotional pain of the conflict and, as young teens, are exquisitely sensitive to the social stigma of "the broken home."

It's late Wednesday afternoon that summer and I drive down the street I used to live on with my two sons in the backseat. As I approach what I have learned to call the "marital residence" I see one of my daughters standing on the front lawn. I am just pulling up to the house when my daughter dashes across the lawn, darts into the open garage, and hits the button closing the automatic door. I'm amazed and crushed. Why would my daughter choose to avoid me like that? I thought I succeeded in teaching her to know her thoughts and feelings and to express them? I thought we had a solid relationship in which she could say anything to me, knowing that she would certainly get acceptance (but perhaps not approval)? What could this behavior of hers be about?

Over the course of the next two days I am unsuccessful at getting her on the phone. My concern is mounting. Did I offend her somehow? Have I misjudged the struggles of her adolescence and inadvertently fueled her anger? What's going on? Finally, I get her on the phone:

I've been trying to reach you and I am really kind of upset. Why did you run away from me on Wednesday?

What do you mean, Dad?

Wednesday, two days ago. When I drove up to drop your brothers off you ran into the garage and hid.

On Wednesday? I didn't see you. What are you talking about?

On Wednesday you ran furiously across the front lawn, ran into the garage, and closed the door just as I was pulling up with your brothers in the car!

You mean when the bee was chasing me?

We live our lives on the basis of the stories we write in our heads, not on the basis of the actual external reality. The hospital staff and police wrote a story about an abused two year old in need of protection . . . and then acted upon that story. I wrote a story in my head about not being a good enough father, about not understanding my teenage girls, and about being rejected by the daughter I love so deeply as a result . . . and tortured myself for two days over this erroneous perception. My daughter wrote a script in her mind that had a small bee zeroing in to attack and chase her rather than searching for a fragrant flower . . . and she acted upon that story.

All of us, males and females, adults and children, based on both our experiences and wishes, have stories and scripts and tapes in our heads on the subject of fatherhood. It's often helpful to know the story before you tell it, before you bring it to real life. Fathering, like mothering, is a live performance aired on primetime. It's a good idea to take a peek at the script every now and then.

Many of the questions I receive are from single fathers asking about custody and visitation issues. As I have frequently said before, I really really dislike the word "visitation." As an alternative word, I sometimes use the phrase "fathering time." That doesn't really do it for me either. If you are a father then fathering time is all the time. At least that's the way I see it. SO LET'S PICK A NEW WORD. Seriously, I cannot think of a good term to replace visitation with a male non-custodial parent. None of my friends or professional colleagues have come up with anything either. Please think about a new term and send it to me at DrTedsaid@fathersworld.com. I think perhaps we can turn this into a contest.

Rules and Prizes to be announced - - - but send your entries in now. I mean it!

Send your questions to Dr. Ted at: drtedsaid@fathersworld.com

Dr. Ted Horowitz is a psychotherapist who specilaizes in coaching divorced and widowed parents to manage their lives with optimum effectiveness. His practice is in Queens and Port Jefferson Station, NY. He is a single father of four.

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