Raspberry Iced M

I’m a mom. A divorced (and remarried) one.

Before you’re in it, coparenting sounds like a logistical arrangement. A schedule. An agreement. Two homes working toward the same goal.

And sometimes it is that simple. It used to be for me.

But for the last few years, it’s been much more complicated than a calendar. There are emotional layers that no one really prepared me for.

1. I second guess myself constantly. Because I am misunderstood and judged constantly. Even on good days, I wonder if I’m too strict, too lenient, too emotional, or too stoic. When another household exists, it’s easy to wonder how I’m being interpreted, and that self-doubt can be exhausting.
2. The kids figured out how to play both sides. Man, oh, man my kids are smart. Resourceful. They figured out that different homes meant different dynamics, and they have often used that to their advantage. They’re trying to navigate two different worlds, too, and I know that can’t be easy. I wish I had caught on sooner – before I made a few decisions that affected my family pretty harshly. This tug-of-war can make you feel like you’re constantly being compared, and that’s not fun.
3. I feel more judged than I ever anticipated. Not just by the other household, but by family, friends, and other parents. My choices have been discussed in rooms in which I have never been present, and learning to live with that reality takes much thicker skin that I thought. Newsflash – I don’t have thick skin.
4. I can’t control the environment my kids experience half of the time. I don’t hear conversations, see the discipline, see the routines. I just have to blindly trust that someone else is doing the right thing – or at least their best – when I might have chosen something differently. That lack of control terrified me at first.
5. Financial disagreements can be stressful. Raising children costs money. Clothes. Activities. School. Medical treatment. When both parents see those things the same way, it’s manageable. When they don’t, though, tiny decisions turn into negotiation, which adds another layer to an already complex dynamic.
6. I miss my kids in a way that’s hard to explain. The empty rooms. The absence of routine. When the kids aren’t home, the quiet feels enormous. I would crucify myself for those little people, and I don’t begrudge them relationships with their other loved ones. But even knowing they’re happy doesn’t stop the ache of their absence.
7. I have learned emotional restraint I never knew I had. There are so many things I have wanted to say that I didn’t. There are conversations from which I have stepped away, moments I’ve swallowed my own frustration because the situation called for calm. No one will never know that. Coparenting requires a level of emotional discipline that most people never have to practice.
8. My kids’ well-being is the north star. For 18 years, that focus has helped me show up, even when I didn’t want to. I’ve been tired for all of my adult life.

So it’s not easy. Coparenting has asked me to share something incredibly important with someone whose decisions I do not fully control. It has asked me to be patient, thoughtful, and steady – when I really felt uncertain. Most of my effort happens quietly. And I have failed in many, many ways.

But I am doing my best to love my kids, even in complicated circumstances, and I hope that effort matters.