SINGLED OUT?

Six-year-old Michael Arevalo lobs the beach ball. It bounces out of his father's hands and into the pool at Turnberry Tower East, where both share a two-bedroom apartment.

Michael cracks a smile, some teeth missing, as his father fetches the skimmer net.

Luckily for Jose Arevalo, he didn't drop the ball when it counted, or Michael would not be in his life. In 2004, the small-business accountant approached the Clark County Department of Family Services. Since moving to the United States from El Salvador 12 years earlier, he dreamed of being a father. But he grew tired of waiting for a partner who might never arrive.

"I was busy working and I didn't have time to start a family," the 36-year-old says. "I just wanted to be a dad already."

Arevalo didn't realize how hard he would have to fight, however.

"I've seen other people wait only four months to adopt," he says. "But I waited three years. And I had to really push and push."

In August, a report by the National Center for Health Statistics identified more than 73,000 single male adoptive fathers in the United States. Although there are no previous reports for comparison, it is believed the number of single adoptive fathers is rising -- in step with the trend toward single male surrogacy recently publicized by entertainers Clay Aiken and Ricky Martin.

Clark County Family Services says that 24 of its 37 adoptive homes were run by single men in September, compared to nine of 32 adoptive homes last September. (Private adoption agencies in the valley contacted for this story either did not return messages or said that no single men had ever applied with them.)

"Because it's become so common for children to be raised by single mothers, more dads are saying: 'I can do it, too. Why not me?' " says Vince DiCaro, spokesman for the National Fatherhood Initiative, a Maryland-based nonprofit that promotes responsible fathering.

Hopeful single fathers may face more challenges than their female counterparts, however.

After attending classes and obtaining his adoption license, Arevalo was unable to get approval from Family Services for any of the children he expressed interest in. Frustrated, he repeatedly called the Adoption Exchange, a nonprofit placement assistance service that works with Family Services.

"He kept getting shuffled around from worker to worker, and he was basically lost in the shuffle," recalls Adoption Exchange program director Sharon Feeney, who says she suspects discrimination.

"To be honest with you, a lot of the workers really want the ideal situation of a two-parent household with a white picket fence and a cat and a dog," Feeney says. "So a lot of them shy away from a single parent, whether it's a single male or female."

One parent also is considered less likely to be emotionally and economically secure than two, according to Feeney.

"But a single male has the most obstacles to overcome," she adds.

In other words, women are considered more nurturing than men.

"Because the woman is the one who carries a child and nurses it afterward, she's got a different kind of connection than a man does," says Las Vegas psychologist Dr. David P. Gosse. "And women have maternal instincts even if they're not pregnant."

According to Gosse, socialization plays a factor, too. "Little girls are socialized from an early age to be caretakers," he says, "to play with dolls while boys play with trucks."

Gosse cautions against applying stereotypes, even if they're true, to individual cases.

"Some guys are great fathers and some women are horrible mothers," he notes.

Clark County Family Services categorically denies any allegations of favoritism toward couples or single women.

"We do not discriminate against single parents -- even single men," says spokesman Andre Wade. "We value them just as much as two-parent homes." Wade adds that "each case is different" and "many individual factors" determine an applicant's waiting time, which he estimates at about a year from start to finish.

Indeed, Jamie Osborn reported "no trouble" quickly securing the two children he adopted from Family Services. (The 48-year-old radio personality has seven adopted children in total, dating back to 1992.) However, this is possibly because the children were teenagers at the time, an age group fewer applicants request, according to Wade.

"I would love to have an infant," says Osborn, who was adopted himself and says he enjoys returning the favor. "But I'm a single guy, so I really can't take care of an infant."

In January 2007, during a national meeting of child welfare workers, Feeney says she brought up Arevalo's case to illustrate what's wrong with the system.

"I had numerous states that said they'd be more than happy to work with him," Feeney says. "By the time I got back, the county had identified that Jose could possibly be a good match for Michael."

Arevalo was introduced to his future son at a Las Vegas YMCA, during a casual meeting of recruiters, social workers, parents and children that the Adoption Exchange calls an "adoption party." Michael had been living with the same foster family since age 2.

Arevalo was given guardianship for six months, during which his legal title was foster father. After the trial period, Family Services finalized the adoption with an attorney that it provided and paid for.

"They pretty much did everything for me," Arevalo says, indicating that, much to his surprise, there were no out-of-pocket expenses. (He notes that none of the private adoption services he contacted offered their services for less than $25,000.)

Arevalo says he's not upset about being passed over for so long.

"It's not something I'm complaining about or against," he says. "Maybe they're looking for more structure for a child. That's understandable. They think that two parents in a family is more structured than one male parent -- because of the nurturing thing."

Father and son have finished their game of catch by the pool. On the couch in the Turnberry lobby, Michael is asked the question no expert can answer on his behalf: Does he mind living with a father and no mother?

"I don't know," he replies, shrugging his shoulders. "I like him. He's my daddy."

Arevalo hugs his son and loudly kisses the top of his head.

Contact reporter Corey Levitan at clevitan@ reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0456.