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Tag: Koenig Dunne Divorce Law

Koenig Dunne Divorce Law

New Beginnings

I love new beginnings.  I delight in shaking the Etch-A-Sketch clear and starting over.  I appreciate every month flipping the calendar to a fresh start.  I enjoy crawling into bed when freshly laundered sheets await.  I particularly enjoy the start of a new year when I spend days preparing pages of goals for the upcoming year.  Well, a divorce can change that. During a divorce, every single layer of life is changed.  And I mean – every. single. one.  New beginnings are everywhere.  Although in the middle of life-altering upheaval, they don’t feel like new beginnings – the just feel
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Easy

“You have it so much easier because you only have your kids half the time.” He made this statement a couple of times during our conversation.  The first time it fell out of his mouth I felt like a victim of Little Bunny Foo Foo hopping through the forest being bopped on the head. It didn’t sting so much as shock my system. The next time he said it, the normally dormant lava bubbles in my gut started to boil as anger crept up my spine. These words were uttered by a dear friend of mine who has seen some
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Grateful

Light me up a pumpkin spiced candle, let my feet crunch as I walk over brightly colored leaves, and zip me into a parka when the fall wind nips at my nose.  I love all that is fall.  I love this season, and in particular, this week of Thanksgiving, where with it brings reflections on gratitude and abundance.  During times of transition or grief, it may be difficult to feel gratitude or see the silver linings, but perhaps take pause and really look. Why I Am Grateful for my Divorce Did I just write that subtitle?  Did it just get
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Casserole Care

I thought it was heat rash when the red prickly, itchy bumps appeared.  Then the pain set in and my instincts told me otherwise.  The doctor took one look and resolutely said, “Shingles.”  “Adult chicken pox?” I asked.  “At your age the only explanation is that it is stress induced,” he looked at me with what felt like a smidge of silent judgment.  I was on Google as soon as I walked in the door to discern how long this bout would last, my mind already racing to the commitments I had the following work week and how was I
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Expectations or Expectancy

Expectations have set me up for more than a little suffering in life. This week I decided to give expectancy of good a try instead. When I predict things will go badly, expectations leave me feeling blue in anticipation. When I predict events will unfold precisely as I’d planned, expectations inevitably leave me feeling disappointed. I decided to set aside my Valentine’s Day expectations of happy or sad, of good or bad, and instead hold the expectancy of a good day. I used my analytical mind to protect my thin-skinned heart.  I retrieved a favorite well-worn tool, list-making, and gathered
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Above and Beyond

I was starting to stress with every snowflake coming down.  I had to get my girls safely to school on time in this slippery slush and then make sure I was in the courtroom with my exhibits organized and ready to go promptly at our 9 a.m. start time.  From the parking garage I half jogged in my suit and snow boots toting my rolling briefcase behind me and double checking that I had my high heels ready for a quick change in the courthouse. I arrived somewhat breathless to find a dark courtroom.  Neither the bailiff nor the judge
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Winter Warmup

As a coach, I love to see people excited and inspired to launch into their goals for the year ahead. Getting back to the gym, planning their vacation to the lake, or signing up for that budgeting 101 class. But even with the promise of a new year, many of us find it hard to drag ourselves out of bed, in the winter wind chill. After the flu has made its rounds, the credit card bills come in, and the numbers on the scale that started rising with Thanksgiving pumpkin pie and climbed to a peak with bowl game cheese
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The Stocking

I have pulled it out of the red and green-topped box each year since my divorce.   The sole stocking left among my divorce residue  – a reminder of my divided family.  It is the stocking purchased when the dream of my future family was thriving.  I bought four stockings together, perhaps foolishly, during the pregnancy of my first daughter.  I was hopeful from the beginning she would have a sibling.  The first Christmas after she was born, I had the stockings monogrammed “Mom,” “Dad,” and “Anna.”  I left the last blank until the time came that eventually our Sophia would
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Peaceful Place

“Do you have plans for the holidays?” she asked, breaking the ice at the business lunch. “We’re traveling to Boston.” “We like to keep it relaxed.” “We’ll enjoy a lot of traditions.” “I’m hosting my family.” Spanning over 20 years in age, each was a divorced mom with children. Two married anew, one who remained single, and me, remarried and now widowed.  As the wait staff took orders for the soup of the day and salad with salmon, each shared a little more. “Neither of us ever go back home for Christmas.” “We alternate Christmas Eve with Christmas Day.” “My
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Transitioning Traditions

It was quiet Thanksgiving morning.  My kitchen was void of the warmth and scent of stuffing and turkey cooking in the oven.  I trudged down the stairs to get the super- ad-stuffed newspaper to peruse while watching the parade.  This, the first time it felt like a chore.  I felt off – cranky, sad, and alone.   My girls were in Texas with their dad and paternal grandparents for the Thanksgiving holiday.  I was home alone in Nebraska left with my woe-is-me thoughts as my only comfort. Holidays are hard.   This refrain is a reality for most, but not all, divorced
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