Co-parenting can be sucky and sweet
For the most part, coparenting during a divorce sucks, especially a contentious one. Trying to communicate with a volatile or unresponsive ex-partner about your kids’ needs — whether it be financial, psychological or educational — vacation plans, doctor appointments and sports games can be wildly stressful and emotionally draining. But there’s always an upside to a shitty situation, right? OK, so sometimes there isn’t, but we can trick ourselves into thinking so. It’s what I’ve been teaching my kids (Archer, 7 and Isla, 4) for years.
“Yeah, this totally sucks,” I tell them. “I hate that I don’t have a house, too. But, there’s always something to be grateful for,” I lecture from my high horse.
The three of us sit down together on my friend’s living room floor, where we are staying for the time being. I grab a notebook and markers off of the coffee table behind me. “Let’s go, team. What do we have to be thankful for today?”
“We have somewhere to stay, food to eat and some nice man bought our groceries today,” Archer rattles off as I take notes.
“And my unicorn stuffy,” Isla says as she waits for me to write it down. And I do.
“Oh, and all of our friends!” Archer announces with a smile.
I tell them good job and we all seem to be in better spirits. I continue this exercise on the daily, not always writing our thoughts down, but always asking the question whether we are in the car, at the dinner table or before bed. It’s a good process for me, too, as hard as that is to admit. I mean, I am not a person who totes around a gratitude journal, seeking happiness, spreading joy and converting cynics. I am the cynic.
But life calls for change and I am not exempt. It’s fucking difficult to stay positive when it feels as if your life is falling apart. I desperately want to rely on my sarcasm and moroseness. “Do the opposite of what you want to do,” they say. And so, because I need to stay positive — for my kids and myself — I try my damndest.
The other day, the kids and I went on a tampon run to Safeway. If you’ve ever taken children to the grocery store, you know you don’t walk out of there without getting them something. On this day, my kids each get a small bag of chips and one of those sparkling ICE drinks. As we walk to our car, a homeless man approaches us with his shopping cart, carrying all of his belongings, and asks for money.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him, “I don’t have any cash.” This isn’t a lie and the kids and I continue on to our car. But I stop because there are few things sadder than homelessness. “Are you thirsty?” I yell to him.
He nods. I grab one of the kids’ drinks and we walk back to him and I hand it over. He immediately guzzles it.
As we continue back to our car, what I did seems to have just sunk in with Isla. She stops dead in her tracks, hands on her hips and asks, “Did you give him MY drink?!”
I scoop her up to get us all to the car and buckled in. Isla is bawling about her drink. Archer is having a meltdown for different reasons. “Oh my god. I can’t stand it. Oh my god. It’s so sad. I’m going to cry,” he screams over and over.
I acknowledge the sadness of it all, but also try to remind them that we did something nice no matter how small it may seem. “Isla, we can share. We have enough,” I tell her. “That man doesn’t have a house,” I tell her.
“We don’t either,” she fires back. Archer and I burst into laughter.
“Touche,” I say, “But we have somewhere to stay. He doesn’t.”
Both kids calm down, but I’m still worked up. Like Archer, I wanted to bawl and rant about how unfair life is. But I had to parent. Alone.
Remember when I said that there’s always a bright side? As much as coparenting can suck, it can also be great. Within reason, each parent can parent however they’d like. This may come to a shock to some of you, but I’m not — nor have ever been — a disciplinarian. I like dance parties, play dates, Pinterest, sugar and ‘yes’ far too much, and this caused tension in my marriage. I was too lenient. Too soft. I was creating monsters.
So now, parenting on my own on my time, I do what I want. Donuts for breakfast? Fuck yeah! And, brush your teeth after. Dance parties on the weekend past curfew? Why not? And if you’re grouchy the following day, you will nap. Sprinkle a curse word here and there? Not my favorite, but you will not swear outside of these walls. This feels good. And so, when I see a news story about a TikTok hack for mochi, I’m pumped.
Both newscasters give the recipe rave reviews so I head to the store to pick up the ingredients, fruit roll-ups and ice cream. And on Mother’s Day, the kids and I make the sugary treat by placing a scoop of ice cream into the center of the fruit roll-up, folding it into a spherical shape and freezing for an hour or so. As we attempt to assemble some stupid puzzle I bought, we break out our homemade mochi treats and they are a huge hit. So much so in fact, that I have to make them the next two nights, until we run out of fruit roll-ups.
This is all to say that sure, coparenting can be difficult, daunting and seemingly impossible, but it can also offer rewards, such as autonomy and freedom. Be grateful for that. I am. I even wrote about it in my gratitude journal.
