My Modern Family
My Modern Family
Sep 28, 2016 | Posted by Rebecca | Family, Lifestyle, Parenting, The Real
It is unorthodox, but it is not complicated…
Soooo, I live with my ex husband. Yup. That’s right. We are no longer married, we aren’t even dating, but we live together with our two children in the same home. We have been co-habitating for going on two years now. When I tell people this they choke like they didn’t quite copy. They say things like “Wait…what? You aren’t together? But you live together? You guys get along so well… Dang, is that nice? Wait, oooooh that’s so complicated, how does that work?”
Well, it works–at least for now–and later I will tell you how.
First, let me back up and share how we got to this co-parenting-co-habitation arrangement. The back story is simple and not unlike the hundreds of other stories you have heard in young relationship breakups before… You are young-ish. You get married. shyt happens in a marriage. You get pissed about shyt happening. You no longer want to be married, because this bullshyt sucks. The level of maturity needed to find forgiveness and love unconditionally is not present. You fail to effectively move through the challenges. You separate to give space to grow, but still can’t get it together. The differences feel irreconcilable. You grow apart. Divorce ensues.
When we separated, our daughter was about 2 years old and our son was only 3 months. At the time, we were living at my mother’s house (which in hindsight definitely complicated things beyond the normal relationship dramas). We moved in when I was 8 months pregnant with our second child because we needed more space. We had intentions of purchasing her 5-bedroom home when she retired. Within months, things fell apart. It was a perfect storm of pregnancy hormones, mother-in-law interference, and “I’m about to have two of these little things to take care of” second round daddy shock that led to us arguing and not connecting with each other as a couple. It wasn’t long before he moved back in with his parents.
For a while we attempted to co-parent from two different homes that were 20 miles apart. Needless to say, that was a disaster. With him living so far away, it was just too hard for him to get the quality time in with the kids. Luckily, shortly thereafter, I started graduate school in the city and moved into a duplex near campus, which cut the drive for him down from 1.5 hours in traffic to 20 minutes. At first, the children were primarily in my care since the baby was so little and still nursing. Our work schedules were reversed, I was home during the day and going to school at night. Not only did that mean he could see them more, but it allowed us to hand off the kids easily so that I could attend class in the evenings. Eventually, we moved to a 50/50 custody split where the children spent half of the week with me and half of the week with him. This too was a disaster.
Our daughter slowly devolved into a train wreck: suffering from increased anxiety, having outbursts at school, and crying during transitions between homes. At one point I was in the school office almost daily for weeks, and she wasn’t even in KINDERGARTEN!! She was just in TK, coloring and playing and learning how to share and stuff. What could be so difficult about being in TK that I would have to come to the office on a daily basis? But it wasn’t school, it was the lack of stability that she felt on the home front. I thought having separated when they were so young would allow them to adapt better. It didn’t. And we thought that we were doing our best given the circumstances but we knew from her feedback that this wasn’t the best arrangement.
Our daughter was about 4 1/2 years old when it all came full circle and she (as one would say) handed me my ass. I was sitting with her during breakfast one morning and she said with all of her big girl wisdom… “You know mommy, you tell me that I need to be nice to my friends, but you and Daddy aren’t very nice to each other.” OUCH. Did my preschooler just kick me in the jaw with her tiny little big foot of truth? She was right though. We had been arguing a lot and were in the middle of a child support battle. We were not friends. So I had to fess up, “You know what Yaya, you are right.” She proceeded to look me in the face with all of the compassion in the world like, I get it Mommy and I want to help you out. She continued, “Well, you guys just need to say sorry. I’ll show you how it goes.” She lifted her two hands like she was faking two mouths talking to each other and said “First YOU say “I’m sorry!”, then HE says “I’m sorry” back, then you hug (brings hands together in an embrace) and we all move back into the same house together. OK?” Finishing with a “got it?” look written all over her face.
Oooooooohhhhhhhhhh from the mouths of babes.
She was right though. We were acting like jerks. We needed to grow up or we would really be on the road to messing up our kids. Plus, we were just making things harder on ourselves. That was the beginning of the reconciliation. It wasn’t a fast process. It took over a year of talking, saying I’m sorry and practicing forgiveness in an active way. This meant me putting down the anger, resentment and the need to constantly whip him in the face with it. This meant him swallowing his pride, admitting his faults and showing me that he really could show up for all of us. It took both of us remaining committed to that covenant that we made the moment we chose to bring life into this world: to be parents to these two brilliant little souls in an unconditional and loving way.
Maybe we were done being married, but neither of us were giving up on our shared commitment to raise the flesh of our flesh and blood of our blood. That commitment was for life. We also agreed that living this two-household life was kind of killing us, logistically and financially. Basically, with what rent costs in LA, we could go and get two 600 sq ft one bedroom apartments and have our kids flip flopping back and forth like crazy fish, or we could pool that money, get a nicer place, and support each other in a shared home so that all of us came out on top.
So that is what we did. In January of 2015 we decided to combine our resources again to give our kids and ourselves the quality of life we value and deserve. We now have a beautiful 1800 sq ft three bedroom two bath duplex which affords us a room for him, a room for me, and a room for the kids to share. It has a large yard and a garage and plenty of room for us to come together as a family and also to retreat to our private spaces when we are over each other. We both knew in our hearts it would work better for the children to have a stable home environment, and it has. Plus, divorce has got to be the stupidest financial arrangement known to man. You pay rent, I pay rent. You need a bed for the kid, I need a bed for the kid. You need ketchup, I need ketchup. I can’t find the kids shoes because they are at your house. That outfit my mom bought her should have stayed at my house. Blah blah blah. What a drag.
We are now going on almost two years of co-located co-parenting. Our living situation definitely strays from what society deems the “normal” family structure, but I would venture to guess that we aren’t that unique in our situation and that this idea is not that novel. It was actually at my ex-husbands suggestion that I am writing this post. He said, “You know what, I think there are more people living alternative family lifestyles than actually admit it. You should write about it.” So here we are.
As an educator I spend a lot of time advocating for kids, finding ways to validate their experiences, affirming their differences and supporting families of all shapes and sizes. In our immediate community we have mommy-daddy combo’s, single parents, grandparents raising grandchildren, aunty-mommies, two mommies, two daddies, trans partners, single mamas that went through invitro and never had a daddy in the equation at all. They are absolutely perfect families. So why should my kids situation be any different? Don’t they deserve to feel whole and complete and loved by their village even if we don’t fit the status quo? Of course they do.
It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been less hard than what we were doing in the past. I still want to choke him out on some days… you know, when he rinses the dirty dishes and places them next to the dishwasher. Yup. This is a thing. One will rinse (not wash) the dishes, so they are neither clean nor dirty, and one will place them on the counter top NEXT to the dishwasher (not inside where they might eventually get clean), and then one will walk away and leave them there for days. But I’m not saying any names. Honestly though, co-habitating comes with the same challenges anyone would face in a committed marriage or roommate situation.
Now! After much ado, I’ll tell you how it actually works. There are some very specific and fundamental things that I believe make living with my BBD possible. (My ex-husband will here forth from time to time be affectionately and in jest referred to as my BBD (aka. Baby Daddy), because, well, that is what we call him behind his back and because the term makes him absolutely bat shyt crazy mad. Haha. Oh well, stuff it, this is my blog.)
In short, this arrangement takes a lot of communication, clear boundaries, mutual respect, a dose of compassion, and a dash of organization. Let me explain.
My Modern Family
Sep 28, 2016 | Posted by Rebecca | Family, Lifestyle, Parenting, The Real
It is unorthodox, but it is not complicated…
Soooo, I live with my ex husband. Yup. That’s right. We are no longer married, we aren’t even dating, but we live together with our two children in the same home. We have been co-habitating for going on two years now. When I tell people this they choke like they didn’t quite copy. They say things like “Wait…what? You aren’t together? But you live together? You guys get along so well… Dang, is that nice? Wait, oooooh that’s so complicated, how does that work?”
Well, it works–at least for now–and later I will tell you how.
First, let me back up and share how we got to this co-parenting-co-habitation arrangement. The back story is simple and not unlike the hundreds of other stories you have heard in young relationship breakups before… You are young-ish. You get married. shyt happens in a marriage. You get pissed about shyt happening. You no longer want to be married, because this bullshyt sucks. The level of maturity needed to find forgiveness and love unconditionally is not present. You fail to effectively move through the challenges. You separate to give space to grow, but still can’t get it together. The differences feel irreconcilable. You grow apart. Divorce ensues.
When we separated, our daughter was about 2 years old and our son was only 3 months. At the time, we were living at my mother’s house (which in hindsight definitely complicated things beyond the normal relationship dramas). We moved in when I was 8 months pregnant with our second child because we needed more space. We had intentions of purchasing her 5-bedroom home when she retired. Within months, things fell apart. It was a perfect storm of pregnancy hormones, mother-in-law interference, and “I’m about to have two of these little things to take care of” second round daddy shock that led to us arguing and not connecting with each other as a couple. It wasn’t long before he moved back in with his parents.
For a while we attempted to co-parent from two different homes that were 20 miles apart. Needless to say, that was a disaster. With him living so far away, it was just too hard for him to get the quality time in with the kids. Luckily, shortly thereafter, I started graduate school in the city and moved into a duplex near campus, which cut the drive for him down from 1.5 hours in traffic to 20 minutes. At first, the children were primarily in my care since the baby was so little and still nursing. Our work schedules were reversed, I was home during the day and going to school at night. Not only did that mean he could see them more, but it allowed us to hand off the kids easily so that I could attend class in the evenings. Eventually, we moved to a 50/50 custody split where the children spent half of the week with me and half of the week with him. This too was a disaster.
Our daughter slowly devolved into a train wreck: suffering from increased anxiety, having outbursts at school, and crying during transitions between homes. At one point I was in the school office almost daily for weeks, and she wasn’t even in KINDERGARTEN!! She was just in TK, coloring and playing and learning how to share and stuff. What could be so difficult about being in TK that I would have to come to the office on a daily basis? But it wasn’t school, it was the lack of stability that she felt on the home front. I thought having separated when they were so young would allow them to adapt better. It didn’t. And we thought that we were doing our best given the circumstances but we knew from her feedback that this wasn’t the best arrangement.
Our daughter was about 4 1/2 years old when it all came full circle and she (as one would say) handed me my ass. I was sitting with her during breakfast one morning and she said with all of her big girl wisdom… “You know mommy, you tell me that I need to be nice to my friends, but you and Daddy aren’t very nice to each other.” OUCH. Did my preschooler just kick me in the jaw with her tiny little big foot of truth? She was right though. We had been arguing a lot and were in the middle of a child support battle. We were not friends. So I had to fess up, “You know what Yaya, you are right.” She proceeded to look me in the face with all of the compassion in the world like, I get it Mommy and I want to help you out. She continued, “Well, you guys just need to say sorry. I’ll show you how it goes.” She lifted her two hands like she was faking two mouths talking to each other and said “First YOU say “I’m sorry!”, then HE says “I’m sorry” back, then you hug (brings hands together in an embrace) and we all move back into the same house together. OK?” Finishing with a “got it?” look written all over her face.
Oooooooohhhhhhhhhh from the mouths of babes.
She was right though. We were acting like jerks. We needed to grow up or we would really be on the road to messing up our kids. Plus, we were just making things harder on ourselves. That was the beginning of the reconciliation. It wasn’t a fast process. It took over a year of talking, saying I’m sorry and practicing forgiveness in an active way. This meant me putting down the anger, resentment and the need to constantly whip him in the face with it. This meant him swallowing his pride, admitting his faults and showing me that he really could show up for all of us. It took both of us remaining committed to that covenant that we made the moment we chose to bring life into this world: to be parents to these two brilliant little souls in an unconditional and loving way.
Maybe we were done being married, but neither of us were giving up on our shared commitment to raise the flesh of our flesh and blood of our blood. That commitment was for life. We also agreed that living this two-household life was kind of killing us, logistically and financially. Basically, with what rent costs in LA, we could go and get two 600 sq ft one bedroom apartments and have our kids flip flopping back and forth like crazy fish, or we could pool that money, get a nicer place, and support each other in a shared home so that all of us came out on top.
So that is what we did. In January of 2015 we decided to combine our resources again to give our kids and ourselves the quality of life we value and deserve. We now have a beautiful 1800 sq ft three bedroom two bath duplex which affords us a room for him, a room for me, and a room for the kids to share. It has a large yard and a garage and plenty of room for us to come together as a family and also to retreat to our private spaces when we are over each other. We both knew in our hearts it would work better for the children to have a stable home environment, and it has. Plus, divorce has got to be the stupidest financial arrangement known to man. You pay rent, I pay rent. You need a bed for the kid, I need a bed for the kid. You need ketchup, I need ketchup. I can’t find the kids shoes because they are at your house. That outfit my mom bought her should have stayed at my house. Blah blah blah. What a drag.
We are now going on almost two years of co-located co-parenting. Our living situation definitely strays from what society deems the “normal” family structure, but I would venture to guess that we aren’t that unique in our situation and that this idea is not that novel. It was actually at my ex-husbands suggestion that I am writing this post. He said, “You know what, I think there are more people living alternative family lifestyles than actually admit it. You should write about it.” So here we are.
As an educator I spend a lot of time advocating for kids, finding ways to validate their experiences, affirming their differences and supporting families of all shapes and sizes. In our immediate community we have mommy-daddy combo’s, single parents, grandparents raising grandchildren, aunty-mommies, two mommies, two daddies, trans partners, single mamas that went through invitro and never had a daddy in the equation at all. They are absolutely perfect families. So why should my kids situation be any different? Don’t they deserve to feel whole and complete and loved by their village even if we don’t fit the status quo? Of course they do.
It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been less hard than what we were doing in the past. I still want to choke him out on some days… you know, when he rinses the dirty dishes and places them next to the dishwasher. Yup. This is a thing. One will rinse (not wash) the dishes, so they are neither clean nor dirty, and one will place them on the counter top NEXT to the dishwasher (not inside where they might eventually get clean), and then one will walk away and leave them there for days. But I’m not saying any names. Honestly though, co-habitating comes with the same challenges anyone would face in a committed marriage or roommate situation.
Now! After much ado, I’ll tell you how it actually works. There are some very specific and fundamental things that I believe make living with my BBD possible. (My ex-husband will here forth from time to time be affectionately and in jest referred to as my BBD (aka. Baby Daddy), because, well, that is what we call him behind his back and because the term makes him absolutely bat shyt crazy mad. Haha. Oh well, stuff it, this is my blog.)
In short, this arrangement takes a lot of communication, clear boundaries, mutual respect, a dose of compassion, and a dash of organization. Let me explain.
- Communication – Just like any intimate relationship, to effectively co-parent you have to be in constant communication. Even when you don’t want to talk things through, you have to. You have to be really specific too or miscommunications are bound to happen, which then requires you to communicate even more. Say it, text it, email, and then repeat. You can’t communicate enough.
- Boundaries and mutual respect – Know your limits. I have always said, I don’t ask questions I don’t want to know the answers to. We don’t need to cross certain lines anymore and I have no business knowing or asking. So you do you and let me do me. As long as we state the boundaries, we can respect them (back to #1, communication). For instance, at no juncture is it ever OK for him to bring another woman into our shared home. It’s just not going to happen. Boundary. I would never dream of violating his space either. If things should evolve into an actual committed relationship with someone else then conversations will be had. In the meantime, handle your business in the street, period. So you see? As long as we aren’t disrespecting each other’s boundaries we are good, but they do need to be stated and issues or questions that arise must be dealt with honestly and without delay.
- Compassion – In those moments when I am about to go hamm-on-that-ass, I remind myself to be compassionate. Not just with him (which is sometimes hard) but also with myself (which is sometimes even harder). To remember that this is new uncharted territory for all of us; that I don’t have a manual to follow and that I am doing my best. Most importantly I remind myself who I am doing all of this for–I would do anything for my kids.
- Organization – Put systems in place to help support effective communication and keep all parties in the know.
- Family Gmail – we have a shared Google email that we use for general list-serves pertaining to the family, shared bills, etc.
- Family Calendar – we both utilize the aforementioned gmail account for scheduling things with the kids. We have it synched to our phones and check it regularly to make sure we aren’t double booking things, kid birthdays, doctors appointments, important meetings where either of us will be away from the home, travel etc.
- Text check ins – if there is something big or important that we are trying to coordinate we always text it out to ensure that it won’t be a conflict for the other person or to just confirm we are on the same page.
- Division of labor – I cook, he does all of the laundry. I pick up the kids from school, he puts them to bed. The main thing that I am grateful for is that my BBD can pretty much do anything I can do with the kids. We never really sat down and made a chore list or anything, but our strengths have definitely created a natural division of labor that ensures the big stuff gets done. As for regular tidying, the brunt falls on me of course (ugghhh being a Libra mom) but the kids are now in charge of their own messes and every other week my gift to myself is a housekeeper that helps with deep cleaning. Ms. Myrna keeps me sane.
- Personal time schedule – this one is super important. In the beginning we wanted to make sure that we were both getting equal time to do our personal stuff, like go the gym, watch football, meet up with friends, dance, go on dates, whatever. So we came up with a “standard” schedule. Mondays-Wednesday-Fridays were my days to do whatever I wanted. Tuesdays-Thursdays-Saturdays were his days. If we needed to switch a day for work stuff or a special event we would just communicate. But ultimately, it made it easier to schedule personal stuff knowing that typically I could sign up for a dance class on Wednesdays and not be inconveniencing him. This helped us both to prioritize our self care and get those needed moments away from the home.
