Category: Doing Divorce

I looked at the month ahead.  Wait. Is that a mistake, I wondered.  Three weekends in a row I had marked down “girls” in my calendar.  Just the thought perked me up.  3 weekends in a row!  Simultaneously a shift and a gift!  My feet danced a little in my shoes as I felt the irresistible urge to jump around and bring my fist down in a triumphant “yes!” I remembered that my former spouse was going on vacation and the result was 3 weekends in a row for me, followed by 3 weekends in a row for him.  As

We woke early with our mission in mind.  On this misty morning, we found the tide reaching as far back into the ocean as possible.  We walked quickly on the smooth, sand-soaked surface to discover this spot of local magic.  Here in the tiny town of Neskowin, Oregon (population 134) – just past Proposal Rock – we ventured to Ghost Forest. Ghost Forest reveals the remnants of an ancient spruce forest.  It is presumed that the trees were likely abruptly lowered due to an earthquake and then were covered by mud from landslides or debris from a tsunami.  The forest reappeared in

I couldn’t catch my breath.  I was in a public place and tears were streaming down my face.  The threat of urinating on myself was real.  I could not stop laughing.  It came wave after therapeutic wave – the fits of giggles in between the gasps for air. When I think back to the four days I recently spent in New Hampshire with two of my dearest friends since age 12, what I most remember is the laughter:  tons of it – days of it – literally stomach hurting from it.  I felt alive, refreshed, and so happy. Traci and

Preface:  If in your mind’s eye you fancy me a sophisticated and/or elegant lady lawyer:  number one – thank you; and number two – you should probably stop reading now. One of my favorite hobbies is hand stitching.  My preferred medium is felt and sequins (think 1980’s childhood and me adoring the handmade ornaments my mom made out of sequins and felt).  One of my prized possessions is a plastic box with 16 compartments that holds my rainbow-color-coordinated sequins.  My daughters tease me that I would save that box before them if our home were burning.  Point is – I

There was a hole on the wall.  She stared at it with the tears coming anew.  This hole was not the kind that needed spackling and sanding, but the kind that needed time and space to replace the vacancy.  She had just taken down the wedding portrait of her son and now former daughter-in-law.  The divorce decree had been signed and the woman who had frequented their kitchen table would now be permanently absent. There are similar hallways in houses we have all been in.  Black and white photos of founding family members, baby pictures never being replaced to the

A wave of nausea hit my stomach every time I thought about it.  There was a conversation about our financial obligations for our kids that I needed to have with my former spouse that I did not want to have.  I dreaded it.  I delayed it.  I downright ignored it. Our co-parenting relationship has been consistently strong.  We are able to attend parent-teacher conferences together as parents.  Recently, we sat at one table together at our daughter’s 8th grade graduation reception with our respective families and it was pleasant.  I can send him messages with the eyeroll emoji attached when

“Why does everyone think we have a favorite?” Sophia said.  Anna replied, “Yeah.  It’s like asking a parent if they have a favorite child.  Everyone knows you can’t pick and that you love them the same.”  In a rare moment, my girls sat on the kitchen stools chatting happily at me while I made dinner.  Topics moved from homework to plans with friends and took a surprising turn when, after asking about my day, they started talking about being kids of divorced parents. My daughters obviously know my profession and they also know that I often write parenting advice for