Category: Doing Divorce

I lay on my couch too listless to pick up the book I want to read or even to pick up the remote to watch a new murder docuseries I had saved.  Maybe I will turn on music – but my phone is on the dining room table.  I remember I need to take the garbage to the curb – eh, it can wait another week.  I am numb. I am scared, worried, and uncertain about my future.  I feel this now thinking about the country I love.  I felt this in 2011 when I was in the midst of

I could see her choking down her hurt.  He was determined not to let her see him wince across the table set for depositions.  I observed a mixture of emotion fill up the space, even when words were silent.  They occasionally glanced at each other when recalling details of their twenty-two year marriage.  They were answering questions in front of each other about the contributions they each made to their marriage, about how their children had been successful or not, and what they each thought would be a fair way to divide their lives. They were afraid to smile at

“Mom, is Dad your friend?” she asked without notice or context as she sat next to me in the car.  “What…? Like Facebook friends?” I responded quickly to buy some time for a second to process how best to handle this query.  To be truthful, I had never really thought about it. We didn’t start out as friends.  We started out as dating.  Then we were spouses.  Now we are exes.  Ultimately our relationship failed.  In the twelve years we were together, we never experienced the lightness and careless independence of being friends.  I can go months without seeing or

When Santa came to visit my house for Christmas in 1984, he gifted me a Fisher-Price Kids Kodak 110 Film blue camera.  It was the second-best Santa gift I ever received next to the “Pretty In Pink” Barbie from 1981. My camera came with a cartridge of eight flashbulbs to use indoors. I fancied myself a photographer while posing my Barbies, my cats, and my favorite Raggedy Ann doll around our backyard.  Soon after the first set of prints were picked up from the film developer, my mom bought me my first scrapbook. I meticulously kept scrapbooks from 1984 to

My girls are having a magical summer.  It has included a trip to Mexico with their dad, stepmom, and stepbrother to celebrate his high school graduation.  Then they hit the water slides in the Wisconsin Dells with me for our annual family vacation with my parents, my sister and her family.  They were home one day before packing up and heading to their annual summer camp for the fourth consecutive year.  Now they are spending a week in Yellowstone National Park for the first time with their paternal grandparents excitedly telling me in nightly phone calls about where the buffalo

There is a place in the upper Northwest corner of our country that is filled with magic.  I seek annual refuge in this place to clear my mind by breathing the salt filled air and watching the ebb and flow of the ocean tide.  My favorite place on Earth is the Oregon coast.  The Pacific Ocean is lined by rocky cliffs, at the top of which the evergreens grow and down below the starfish cling to rocks in tide pools.  My temperament is most suited to the mild temperatures and rain dappled days this coast has to offer.  I find

This glorious view was that of my daughters last week while they vacationed in Mexico with their dad. They sunk their toes into the sand, tasted their first virgin pina coladas, and zip lined away their fears of heights. I lived vicariously through them with their photos and sporadic text updates when they stopped in their rooms long enough to use wi-fi. I jealously regarded the photo with so many mixed feelings it left me reeling. I tried to stay most focused on how genuinely happy I was that they were having this incredible experience. I pushed aside worry-wart wondering

“I hate him,” she sent the text in a fury.  It came across my screen like an arrow, not so much aimed at my heart but at least my shoulder, causing me to metaphorically wince.  “What happened?” I replied.  She told me the tale – none of the details relevant – because all my heart hurt about was her distress, sadness, and pain. All kids experience this at some point about each of their parents.  And if you are sitting there smugly reading this and thinking my child will never hate me – let me tell you the day is

A three-hour window.  A three-hour window was all it took to feature the failings of co-parenting.   It was a minor parenting plan problem.  Our case study features an eight-year old girl and her parents two years post-divorce. 4th of July arrived with the provision providing for holiday parenting time to begin at noon.  The 4th fell on a Thursday.  Mom had parenting time Wednesday night and it was her alternating year for the 4th of July holiday.  However, Dad’s parenting time commenced at 9 a.m. on Thursdays for his regular time. Mom asked if it made sense for her