Women and men: And baby came, too

You meet. You fall in love. You meet his kids. How do young women cope when they are thrust into step-motherhood?

Jemima Hunt
Sunday 10 December 1995 00:02 GMT
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out for dinner on a first date. In the course of conversation, the thirty-something man opposite refers to the school play. Then his five-year-old daughter. With almost 50 per cent of children now the offspring of separated, if not divorced, parents, his being a father should come as no surprise. Some women swoon, others contrive a speedy exit. The majority absorb the fact, smile and think: "Why not?" But where do his children fit into this budding romance, and how significant a part does his ex play?

"About half an hour into meeting my boyfriend, he mentioned his kid," recalls film publicist Alixandra, 29. "I just remember thinking, 'Don't you dare tell me you have a child.' " Daunted by the challenge? Not a bit of it. "With my track record of consistently going out with men who are fathers, I was afraid it sounded pathological," she explains. George, her current boyfriend, has a five-year-old son.

For the most part, these are not men who are divorcees or even former long-term partners of the mothers of their children. Instead, the children tend to be the result of a few years spent together. And, while the men were perhaps reluctant to settle down, for the women involved it was a case of now or never.

So, isn't there apprehension that this type of behaviour might be setting some sort of precedent? "If you go out with a man who has left a woman with a child, you do worry about his future moves," concedes Alixandra. "Am I going to be left with a kid when I'm 40?" But, for the majority of swinging twentysomethings on the verge of getting serious, the admission of fatherhood only adds fuel to the intrigue.

Fiona, 27 and a journalist, has been with Rufus, 35, for seven years. He has an eight-year-old daughter who divides her time, almost equally, between her parents' houses. "I've always known Rufus as a father; actually, I find it quite a turn-on," she says. "When you see someone who is good at it, who works at it, it is very sexy. If he was some kind of half-wit who popped in and out of his child's life, I probably wouldn't stick around."

Alison, a 28-year-old furniture designer, agrees. "Fatherhood is an incredibly strong side of Bob's character, and seeing that has made me view him differently," she says. Bob, 35, shares the care of his six-year-old son 50-50 with the mother. "It brings out his adaptability and sense of humour, which rubs off on me. There's always a joke to be made about any situation."

Despite the danger of assuming a cliche-ridden, New Man image, having a child does qualify a man for the Nineties manhood stakes. I've got a child who I look after X times a week, he boasts. I can, therefore, only see you in between. His commitment elevates him from boy to man.

Louise, 32, runs her own design company and has been going out with Charlie, 30, for 18 months. He looks after his four-year-old son every weekend, so Louise only sees him on week-nights. "Sometimes it pisses me off when I want to go out and I haven't got a partner to go with," she says. "But, really, I quite like my space. I respect his time with his son and I think it has helped our relationship. It's an enforced time for us to do our own thing." Louise would rather continue her semi-independent lifestyle than participate in Charlie's rearing of his son. "If I had a kid with him, which I want to, then it would be much easier to have the other one around. As the big brother. But for now, it's his issue, not mine."

By contrast, Rufus's daughter has come to play a meaningful role in Fiona's life. "Because I've known her since she was a baby, we have a very understated friendship which I treasure," she says. "It's not too intense, we don't miss each other and she's always known who her Mum is. But, it's exciting to think that when Rufus and I have kids, they'll have a blood bond with her. Something I don't have."

So, the new boyfriend turns out to be a father and seems fairly adept at the job. His relationship with the mother of his children, though, can be a minefield. Diana, 28, a teacher, and Tom, 39, have been together for two and a half years. He has two children by a former partner. "I knew about his daughters from day one," says Diana, "but was only finally allowed to meet them a year ago. He kept telling me they were really odd children, very shy, but then it turned out their mother didn't want me to see them. She was worried they might think I was their mother."

Obsessively protective of her children, she has banned Tom from feeding or bathing them. This, in turn, infuriates Diana, who feels he is being unnecessarily manipulated.

"I ended up really disliking her, and getting angry with Tom for being so powerless. He went to see her, to say that they had to sort things out, that it was putting a strain on our relationship, and she burst into tears. Tom has now ended up feeling guilty about everyone. It's just a no-win situation."

The fact is, of course, the children are the responsibility of the parents, and regardless of the girlfriend's interest, her point of view is extraneous. "It is frustrating when you have an opinion about a situation or dialogue," argues Fiona. "I'll hear all about what's going on from Rufus and can't do anything about it."

The exception to the rule being, however, if the child spends more time with Dad than Mum. Alison, on occasion, has found herself adopting an almost surrogate role to Bob's six-year-old son, Casey. "His mother is single with a baby, so Casey spends a lot of time with us. It would actually be easier if Bob just had full custody," she says. "Making sure he gets to school on time, has clean clothes and food to eat is a major responsibility, which I am involved in."

Generally, if the child plays a central role in the man's life, an understanding between the girlfriend and child is crucial to the success of a healthy relationship with the man. Debbie, 26 and a nurse, sees her 35-year-old boyfriend Jack's two children, aged 10 and 12, every third weekend. "It would be easier if he didn't have them," she admits, "but he does. Therefore, part of me wanting to be involved with them is to overcome any misgivings I might have had about them. That they are a separate part of his life which I have nothing to do with, and which takes him away from me."

Resentment is common to the early stages of assessing who stands where. Nagging self-doubts regarding maturity arise. How can I, a grown woman, feel usurped by a child? The answer is, very easily. "When Casey used to climb into our bed night after night, it conjured up so many jealousies I didn't know what to do with them," confesses Alison. "I would feel so mean resenting a six-year-old." Fiona has battled with similar demons. "There are times when the most difficult thing is jealousy. Getting to the point where your sense of being loved by your partner is of as much worth as their love for the child isn't easy."

In the end, having adjusted to his split personality, some girlfriends view his fathering as a dummy run for their own anticipated family together. Others obligingly accept the fact, but look forward to those childless, late mornings with unconcealed glee. Happy families for Alixandra means getting on so well with George's son that George is sometimes thrown into a state of confusion. "Sometimes, if we're both around, both demanding equal attention, he gets very flustered. But I always tell him, 'If you can handle a five-year-old, then you can handle me'."

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