I have been asked a lot of times how I manage to co-parent so well with my children’s dads.
And honestly?
I don’t know. 😂
Okay, that’s not entirely true.
I do know what has made it work for us, but I want to make one thing very clear before I say any of it:
We do not have this figured out.
There are arguments.
There are frustrations.
There are disagreements about how things should be handled.
There are moments where one of us thinks the other is absolutely out of their damn mind.
There have been yelling matches and petty behavior, especially in the beginning of both of my divorces.
We are human.
And apparently, divorcing someone does not magically make two stubborn people stop being stubborn. Who knew?
But through all of it, there has always been one thing we have agreed on:
Our children didn’t choose any of this.
And they deserve to know that they are loved more than whatever differences their parents may have.
We Share 50/50 Custody
I have 50/50 custody with both of my children’s dads.
Currently, because I’m staying with the younger children’s father, our schedule is a little less traditional. It’s more like:
“Hey, I have this today. Can you get the kids?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, I’ll get them tomorrow.”
And somehow… it works.
I’ve never asked either dad for child support.
I know that’s controversial.
Some people hear that and immediately think I’m crazy.
But to me, 50/50 custody means we both carry responsibility for these children. If he doesn’t have something, I’ll cover it. If I don’t have something, he’ll cover it.
It’s not about keeping score.
It’s about raising our kids.
For a long time, my role naturally became handling most of the things that happened during the day.
My jobs have generally been more flexible than theirs. They have worked jobs where missing too many days could mean losing points, losing hours, or even losing employment.
So when the school called, I went.
When a doctor needed something, I went.
When a child was sick, I handled it.
And for a long time, that system worked.
Until it didn’t.
Sometimes Life Changes the Plan
When Louie started school and I was constantly running back and forth, and then Kalli got sick and missed an entire month of school, everything eventually reached a point where I had to make an impossible decision.
Last October, I lost my job, my apartment, my van and, honestly, a huge piece of my independence and peace.
I moved back in with my parents.
At the time, I was also trying desperately to make another relationship work, so I kept thinking that maybe the temporary discomfort of having all of us packed into a couple of bedrooms wouldn’t matter because eventually we’d be buying a house together anyway.
Well…
Apparently I was the only one planning that future. 😂
Life has a funny way of showing you when a plan isn’t actually a plan.
Now I’m staying with the younger children’s father.
And I know that probably sounds strange to some people.
Trust me, it isn’t exactly comfortable for either of us.
We disagree.
We argue.
We have completely different ways of doing things and, naturally, both of us think our way is better.
But here’s what matters:
The kids have space.
The kids are safe.
The kids are cared for.
The kids have both of their parents showing up.
That’s what matters.
Our living situation doesn’t have to look conventional to be what’s best for our children right now.
Sometimes parenting means doing what works instead of doing what looks good to everyone else.
The Chaos Schedule
Right now, my life looks something like this:
I work three hours a day as Louie’s HHA.
I squeeze real estate into whatever spaces I can find.
I’m caring for a sick family member connected to one of my former relationships.
Their dad works 7–3.
Then around 2 PM, the daily chaos officially clocks in.
Pick up Kalli.
Pick up Steve.
Louie’s van arrives.
Hudson gets off the bus.
Pick up my mom.
Figure out dinner.
Sports, if somebody has practice or a game.
Baths.
Bed.
Repeat.
Once that clock hits 2 PM, sitting down becomes a mythical concept until approximately 10 PM.
😂
But that’s the chaos life.
And somehow, we make it work.
We Don’t Have to Hate Each Other
I think this is probably the hardest part for people to understand about my co-parenting relationships.
We don’t hate each other.
I remember when my older boys were little, people would constantly tell us:
“I wish we could co-parent like you guys.”
And I genuinely believe more people could.
Not everyone, obviously.
There are situations involving abuse, danger, manipulation or other circumstances where distance and strict boundaries are absolutely necessary.
I’m not talking about those situations.
I’m talking about the rest of us who may have simply reached the point where we realized:
We aren’t good partners anymore, but we’re still parents.
And those are two completely different things.
I don’t have to like everything my children’s fathers do.
They don’t have to like everything I do.
We don’t have to agree on everything.
But we can still show up.
We show up to games and cheer for our kids together.
We show up to doctor’s appointments when difficult decisions have to be made.
We show up to IEP meetings and make sure we’re on the same page.
We celebrate birthdays and holidays together.
We’ve taken day trips where everyone the kids love gets to be there.
And somehow, we even celebrate each other’s birthdays.
The dads make sure I get birthday, Mother’s Day and Christmas gifts.
I make sure they get birthday, Father’s Day and Christmas gifts.
The kids and I make birthday cakes for their dads every year, and everybody comes over for a piece.
Yes.
Even the dads come to each other’s birthday cake celebrations.
My birthday was just last week, and the older boys’ dad showed up with the boys, two cakes and tickets to a cosmic baseball game.
That isn’t traditional.
But it is ours.
And I’m okay with that.
The Kids Are Watching
Children are anything but stupid.
They watch everything.
They hear things we think they don’t hear.
They notice when someone is upset.
They notice when someone is angry.
They notice when the adults they love aren’t okay.
Louie proved that to me today when he kept playing his “Would You Rather?” game with me and kept making me choose between coffee and other things.
Because apparently this child knows exactly how important coffee is to my ability to function. 😂
They know us.
And when we’re not careful, children can start believing that they are responsible for fixing the tension between the adults they love.
I don’t want that for my kids.
I want them to learn something different.
I want them to learn that sometimes relationships don’t work out.
People change.
People make mistakes.
People hurt each other.
People grow apart.
And sometimes the healthiest thing two people can do is stop being a couple.
But none of that means you stop being parents.
Put Your Own Mask On First
There is a reason airplanes tell you to put your own oxygen mask on before helping someone else.
You can’t keep helping everyone while you’re suffocating yourself.
That applies to co-parenting too.
We check on each other.
Sometimes it’s as simple as:
“I’m not sure we handled that right. Can we look at how we got here and what the outcome was?”
Or:
“You seem really stressed. Is there something you want to talk about?”
Or:
“If I drop both boys off at practice tonight, can you pick them up?”
“Hey, if I work overtime tonight, can you get the kids?”
It’s not glamorous.
It’s communication.
It’s compromise.
It’s occasionally swallowing your pride.
It’s recognizing when you’re wrong.
It’s recognizing when the other person is wrong without turning it into a war.
And most importantly, it’s remembering that your children are watching how you treat the people they love.
Your Ex Doesn’t Have to Be Your Enemy
I know this is where people will probably disagree with me.
And that’s okay.
If your ex cheated on you, betrayed you, hurt you, lied to you, or did something that fundamentally changed your relationship, I understand why you may never want to sit across from them at a dinner table again.
You don’t have to.
You don’t have to be friends.
You don’t have to pretend nothing happened.
You don’t even have to like them.
But I do think it’s worth asking yourself:
Is my child paying the price for something their other parent did?
Because they didn’t choose the divorce.
They didn’t choose the betrayal.
They didn’t choose the fight.
They didn’t choose the breakup.
And I don’t want my children to grow up thinking that loving both of their parents is something they need to feel guilty about.
If their dad has a significant other someday, I’m going to ask myself three simple questions:
Do they love my child?
Do they take care of my child?
Does my child feel safe with them?
If the answer to those questions is yes?
Welcome to the village.
I don’t have to become their best friend.
I don’t have to love everything about them.
But if they love my child and help take care of my child, then they’re part of the support system surrounding someone I love more than anything.
Why would I want to take that away from my kid because of my own feelings?
We Don’t Have to Get It Perfect
I don’t think there is one correct way to co-parent.
There isn’t one perfect custody arrangement.
There isn’t one perfect schedule.
There isn’t one perfect way to handle a divorce.
There certainly isn’t one perfect way to raise children.
You grow.
You adapt.
You communicate.
You screw up.
You apologize.
You try again.
And somewhere along the way, you hopefully realize that the person standing across from you isn’t just your ex.
They’re also the person who loves your child.
And how that person is doing directly affects how your child is doing.
So maybe sometimes we have to put our own feelings down for a minute and remember what we’re actually trying to accomplish.
Not winning.
Not proving who was right.
Not making the other person pay.
Not punishing them for what happened in the relationship.
Raising happy, healthy, loved children.
That’s it.
That’s the goal.
And if two people who couldn’t make a romantic relationship work can still stand next to each other at a soccer game, sit together at an IEP meeting, eat birthday cake together, trade custody schedules, check on each other’s mental load and make sure their kids know they’re loved…
Maybe that’s not failure.
Maybe that’s what growing up looks like.
Because the relationship may have ended.
But the family didn’t.
It just changed shape.
And sometimes the most beautiful families aren’t the ones that look the way we expected them to.
They’re the ones that figured out how to love each other anyway.