We’re both single parents who met on an online dating service and we live in different towns. We agreed to see each other exclusively but not introduce our children right away.    
      He seemed excited about starting a relationship and he’d often mention making plans for our children and us in the future.    
      After three months, he hadn’t introduced me to his children, family or friends, with excuses. Three months later, when asked, he said he didn’t want a serious relationship nor to disrupt his kids’ lives.     
      It’s been a year and I’m thinking about ending it for good or giving him an ultimatum. I don’t want to give up the possibility of having him in my life.
      - Conflicted

The best “ultimatum” is to walk away without holding out an “either … or.” He already promised the kind of relationship you hoped for and hasn’t delivered.     
      You’ve made it comfortable for him to have it both ways – companionship and sex when he wants it, his separate family and friendship time that excludes you.    
      Even more telling than his overprotecting of his kids, is the no-go zone of his friendships and extended family. It means he’s not let you into his life.    
      End it, completely. If he comes back, that’s when you provide conditions: That you meet each other’s children, families and friends and work out a real relationship, publicly.

I’m a university student living at my dad's home so I can save for tuition, something each of my seven older siblings did when they were my age. My dad’s 64, is horribly obese, has arthritis in both knees, recent scary heart problems and zero self-esteem. He’s suffered depression for 10 years since my mother’s death.      
      My older siblings are pressuring me to take responsibility and start cooking healthy meals for dad. But it’s so difficult to go to school full-time, work part-time and come home and cook.    
      I want to help him as much as he's helped us, but I feel resentful that I alone have to keep an eye on him. He has no other family in the city and his only friend can’t help. Whenever I do cook, he still sneaks off to fast-food restaurants.       
      He’s stopped taking as many baths as he used to and is beginning to smell. When I broached the topic, he started crying and I backed off.     
      I hate that my siblings got a real dad and I ended up with an old man, that I’ve been given this responsibility and am unequipped to help him.     
      How do I get my siblings to help when they’re all busy with their careers?
      - Overwhelmed

Your seven career-minded siblings need a wake-up call: dad is far needier than in their time with him and all must pitch in to give him appropriate help.      
      In your alert – personal phone calls, then a joint email – explain that it’s as lucky for the whole family, as it is for you financially, that you live there and can monitor his situation. But he now needs care giving and time beyond your capacities.    
      A family meeting can decide the affordability of homemaking/nursing care – e.g. bathing him, cooking and preparing meals ahead several times weekly, cleaning, etc.
      A sibling who carries the most authority with dad should personally insist that these aids are non-negotiable as is getting him to a doctor for his depression.     
      Being the youngest does NOT mean that you have to carry everyone else’s responsibility.

FEEDBACK Here’s a response to a February 8 question about the difficulties and frustrations of trying to convince someone to quit smoking:     
      Reader – “I'm 91 and smoke-free for five years after 70 years of smoking. I now have lung cancer and would still be smoking if my doctor hadn't called in a prescription to assist me to quit painlessly.      
      “I was shocked at the price of the prescription but compared to the cost of a carton of cigarettes every week, it was a bargain. Thank goodness I no longer stink of cigarettes.      
      “Nagging doesn't work, but a little will power and a good doctor can help you quit.”
      - Proud
      Answer - It’s inspirational to know that even in your mid-80s, you learned there’s no such thing as “never” or “impossible” when you were helped to try to kick this longtime addiction.    
      And instructional to know that, with support, it can be done.