September 21, 2011 · 6:43 pm

I Don’t Know How We Do It

I’m a bad blogger. I haven’t posted in over a month—pretty pathetic. At some point in early August, my work life started to take over my entire life and I had to make some choices: do I move my little blog to the bottom of the to-do list or do I spend my 18 waking hours a day working at my paying job and mothering my lovely children? Pretty easy choice if you ask me.

Yet, how many of us (women mainly) end up adding more and more to our already overflowing plates? When you’re married, you can delegate and share the responsibilities. But when you’re a single parent, you’re the one who has to hit the supermarket, feed the kids, help with homework, drive them to soccer practice, and get them up the next morning to start all over. How does it help when you then decide you also absolutely have to clean out the fridge, host a dinner party and, yes, write your blog?

We single parents must prioritize. Otherwise our children suffer. And our careers. Who wants to risk losing a good-paying job in this economy? Every once in a while I’ll ask for help. When I’m too overwhelmed with work projects, I’ll phone Mr. X and ask if it might be possible for him to take the kids a couple of nights while I catch up. I always make up for it the following week (believe me, the kids are sticklers for equal time spent with each parent). I never hesitate to help him out either—quid pro quo goes a long way. The kids certainly don’t want to hang out with a stressed out, workaholic mom. Better they’re home with me when I can be there for them.

I really don’t know how the fully single parent does it though. I have an excellent ex—I’m one of the lucky ones. For those of you slogging it out every day 24/7, I salute you. You are my heroes.

As for tonight, I’m back to writing my blog. Will another A Fine Divorce entry magically appear next week? All depends—the inside of the fridge is looking pretty fuzzy at the moment.

—The Fine Divorcée

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August 11, 2011 · 3:38 pm

Meet the Mediator

“I want a divorce.” After your initial shocked (or not-so-shocked) reaction, the first thing to do is pick up the phone and call a good lawyer, right? Well, yes and no. Yes, you need to know what your rights are along the lines of finances, custody, assets. But consider this: if you storm into your lawyer’s office ready to take your ex for all he or she is worth, you will end up losing. Maybe not losing the case, but definitely losing your sanity, your self-respect and, yes, wasting mega money on legal fees. $300 an hour calculated by the minute adds up pretty quickly.

“So, what’s the alternative?” you ask. Before you choose a lawyer, choose a mediator. Mediation is less expensive and much more civil. First, the cost is split between you (yay!) Second, there’s no bias. A mediator is like a judge—only there to hear both sides and work out the legalities based on your state’s or province’s laws. Third, there’s less reason to up the ante with each demand, as there are no troublesome lawyers out to win at all costs. There’s only one requirement: both of you must agree to mediation and to the mediator.

Up here in Quebec the government actually pays for eight sessions of mediation if children are involved. A pretty nice incentive that Mr. X and I took full advantage of. Our mediator was forthright and unassuming. No courtroom antics from her! We met nine times over nine weeks. It was not uncomplicated—Mr. X and I had many emotional issues to work out and lots of  disagreements. But our mediator listened carefully to each side’s story and based her decision on the law whenever possible. Anything else she worked with us to negotiate in good faith. In the end, we only paid for one mediation session plus court costs. Our entire divorce cost us $900.

Sometimes mediation can only go so far and a stalemate is the end result. If that’s the case,  lawyers will need to enter the picture. On the plus side, the initial mediation often resolves the majority of disagreements and only one or two are left to the lawyers—still a good deal overall. And at least you’ve taken the high road before succumbing to those rascal lawyers.

So, before you pick up the phone, ask yourself how all your hard-earned money that will soon be flying out the window can possibly justify so much stress and anxiety. It can’t. Lose the Lawyer, meet the Mediator—that’s the Fine Divorcée’s slogan.

PS: Sorry to have kept you waiting so long for this latest blog post—I’ve been relaxing on a much-needed vacation. I hope you’ve been having a fine summer yourself. Now get out and enjoy the rest of it before it’s over!

—The Fine Divorcée

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July 13, 2011 · 10:42 am

Are We There Yet?

It’s that time again—summer vacation. But this year you’re a single parent and those days of family road trips to the beach or the mountains seem to be just ancient memories. The thought of packing up the car (or dealing with the horrors of air travel), keeping the kids from killing each other, negotiating the long route—then unpacking, preparing every meal or restaurant outing, not to mention the entire return trip back home—is not your idea of a vacation. It can be hard to admit, but it was a lot easier when you had your husband or wife there to help out.

So how to manage the great American single-parent vacation?

First, don’t set yourself up for misery. The first trip I took as a single parent involved an 8-hour drive, followed by a 2-hour rough ferry crossing where my daughters (ages 4 and 6) and I spent the entire boat trip stumbling to the restroom with our hands clasped over our mouths. Afterwards on the beach, I proceeded to chew on hundreds of pieces of licorice nibs to relieve the stress of watching my girls plunge head-first into humungous waves specifically made to drown small children. Did I mention misery?

Second, budget wisely. Being divorced usually means having only half the funds for summer fun. Did I really need to travel to an expensive area with high-end restaurants? Usually there’s no reason to max out the credit card—young children don’t know the difference between a simple cabin on a lake and a five-star hotel on the ocean. They’re going to have a blast no matter what.

Third, take advantage of your family and friends. You can’t possibly enjoy yourself if you’re the one doing all the grunt work. Fortunately I learned from my mistake year one and visited family the following summer. What a difference—8 hours of sleep every night, one dinner out of 7 to prepare and I even squeezed in a daily run. My girls spent 12 blissful hours each day with their cousins. Nothing beats that.

Once older, the kids should be required to help you out. Cooking, doing dishes, reading directions… and, if you’re exceptionally lucky, not fighting. Another advantage of  older offspring is being able to experience a cool trip together. When my daughters turned 10 and 12 I told them they had a choice between 2 places for our dream vacation (for which I had been saving up for 5 years): Disney World or backpacking through Costa Rica. I was thrilled—thrilled!—when they immediately responded, “Mom, duh…Costa Rica.” Yes! Nothing I hate more than waiting in line in the hot sun for the Pirates of the Caribbean ride when I could be waiting in line in the hot sun for a local bus that winds up steep mountains into an authentic rain forest. ¡Pura Vida!

So, here’s to a fine summer vacation that will provide you and your children with many wonderful new memories. Bon voyage and many happy returns.

—The Fine Divorcée

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July 5, 2011 · 11:09 am

Home Improvement

Children get the short end of the stick in a divorce or separation. Not only do they have to live through the stress of the break-up, they then have to suffer the consequences by traipsing from one parent’s house to the other, lugging their small suitcase behind them, a favorite stuffed animal under an arm. How sad is that?

Why, exactly, are the children dragging their stuff across town? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Who caused this mess anyway?

Ahem…people…may I have your attention? Here’s a rather avant-garde idea. Why not keep the kids in one house (preferably the same one they’ve been living in) and we parents do the traditional lugging of the suitcases? OK, OK, I hear a small uproar. How can a divorcing couple pay for three houses? No, people, not three (unless you’re part of that lucky, richest 1% of the population)—two houses: one for the kids, one for the adults.

OK, yes, I hear more grumbling from the peanut gallery. But my privacy! My life!  I realize this is an impossible situation for some of you. If you’re unable to stay out each other’s private lives, it could prove to be a real problem for jealous types. Otherwise, you’re already going to have to rent or buy another place anyway, so why not at least consider the possibility?

Here’s the thing: Mr. X and I went this route and never regretted it for an instant. We bought an inexpensive condo nearby, furnishing it in the Ikea-esque style. We considered it a wise investment for our bank accounts and more importantly for our children. A two-bedroom is probably the best-case scenario, but we could only afford a one-bedroom—so we set some strict rules:

  1.  When “checking out”, always leave the condo clean. No dirty dishes or old, fuzzy food in the fridge. No crumbs on the counter. No hairs in the bathroom (or anywhere for that matter). No dust mice hanging out in the corners. And no dirty laundry.
  2. The bed is to be remade with clean sheets and pillowcases. This is especially important if guests have stayed over. In fact, it should be perfectly clear that no one has stayed over, even if someone has.
  3. Whoever uses the last staple (pasta, milk, coffee, detergent) has to replace it before checking out.
  4. Above rules also apply to the house.

We weren’t sure how long this living arrangement would last, but at least  we knew it would give the girls a nice interim in order to get used to our separation. In the end, we lived 3 1/2 years this way. Yes, sometimes it could be a hassle (ugh, I forgot my cell phone charger again?!) But mostly it was a pretty perfect situation, even if we both had our mea culpa moments (generally dust mice on his part and sour milk left in the fridge on mine).

By the time Mr. X decided he had had enough of the back-and-forth (I myself could have continued for another 3 years), our anger toward each other had dissipated, we had resolved any legalities and were properly divorced. We sold the condo for a small profit, he purchased a large, sunny condo near the girls’ school and I bought his half of the house. Fait accompli.

Our daughters, at this point now 9 and 6 1/2, did have their say: “Wow, cool! We get to live in an apartment and in our house!” The fact that they were able to pick out a kitten for the apartment to match the house cat wasn’t a bad move either—live felines are not so accommodating to weekly changes of venue.

Where is my fine cat anyway?

—The Fine Divorcée

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June 29, 2011 · 11:19 am

The Parent Trap

Some people tell their parents they’re getting a divorce or a separation and are greeted with sympathy and support. Oh honey, are you OK? Tell us what you need. Others are not so lucky. What?! How can you destroy your family like that? Marriage is forever! I was part of the latter group.

As I state in my post, Thou Shalt Not Divorce, I come from a very religious family. Divorce was just not accepted. You stuck it out, for better or worse. The tiny percentage who did divorce was not disowned (that would be un-Christian-like), but every time their name came up, the D word somehow entered the equation: “Aunt Middie is going to be joining us for dinner. You know, she’s Divorced.” Needless to say, my own separation announcement didn’t exactly make for a Kodak moment. To put it mildly, my parents were extremely disappointed in me. I now list it as one of the 10 most stressful experiences of my life—right up there with renovating the master bathroom (neither of which I plan to attempt again).

Afterwards I tried to ignore their negativity and went about the business of being a good mom and a good ex-wife. But every phone call, every conversation was heavy with parental disappointment. I felt trapped. If I didn’t grab control of the situation, their attitude would bog down my life, and I figured I did not deserve that—not after all the effort Mr. X and I had put into trying to save our marriage and into making our separation as painless as possible. I made a rash middle-of-the-night decision, called my therapist, Dr. P, and set up a couple of sessions with my parents during their annual summer visit. I told my parents what I had scheduled and that I hoped they would concur. They were obviously taken aback, but after some hesitation, they both agreed to the sessions. It was a very loving gesture on their part.

The therapy sessions were excruciating—and that’s putting it mildly. Making your mom cry eight times in three hours is not on the top of anyone’s list (unless you’re a teenager.) Dr. P was direct and sympathetic. She helped them realize that I was not doing a bad thing, that I was not throwing away a good marriage, that Mr. X and I had achieved a practically perfect arrangement. I was able to bring up subjects that had been itching at my soul for decades. We worked through the barriers and came out—well, not exactly all hugs and kisses—but in a better place, with a better understanding of each other.

It’s now seven years later and I’m no longer the black sheep. My parents see that their granddaughters are happy and thriving. They know I do not wish to marry again and are wise enough not to bring it up. They accept and even like my atheist partner, Monsieur Z—practically a miracle, considering that in the 80s my mom made it clear that my living in New York City did not give me much chance to meet, much less marry, a good German Lutheran. Life can provide some difficult twists sometimes. I’ve learned that the important thing is to reach up as high as possible and plant a bright red cherry on top of that twist. Yum.

A raspberry sorbet sundae with a dark chocolate coulis sounds very fine right about now.

—The Fine Divorcée

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June 20, 2011 · 4:43 pm

50/50

When creating a baby, it takes one sperm to one egg, full equality between the partners. Granted, the mother has to carry the baby for nine months, but the father has to deal with her crazy hormones and provide her with ice cream and Snickers bars at odd hours of the night. A pretty even call, I’d say. So why do so many custody arrangements in the U.S. give the father so little time with his children? Why isn’t the norm 50/50?

This is a perplexing question. I’ve heard stories of mothers demanding no less than 80% custody, which I assume is because they’re unable to relinquish control over their kids. Three years of legal battles and six-figure lawyers’ fees later, the father typically gets one night per week and every other weekend with the children he loves. Sorry, but I think that sucks. Kids need their dads equally as much as their moms. And fathers need to experience the ins and outs and joys of child-raising. Moms, if you love your children so much, let them go to Dad’s.

I live in Quebec, a rather feminist society. When my children were in daycare, I never failed to notice that more dads than moms were dropping off and picking up. I know of no custody arrangement in Quebec that isn’t 50/50. Fathers fully share in their offspring’s development, school decisions, homework and doctor’s appointments. Mr. X and I never even considered the alternative. And you know what? If we had stayed together I guarantee my girls would have grown up seeing their father a lot less. He would have succumbed to the rat race, staying late at the office and missing out on their lives. But because of our divorce, his children are number one and my girls are happier because of it.

Another positive aspect of this arrangement is that I get to be 100% Mom when my girls are with me, and 100% Free Woman when they’re not. I adore being a mom. I enjoy my quality time with them fully. When they leave (which is always happily as teens generally cannot stand one parent or the other after 48 hours), I can work late, go to the spa, shop, hang out with my girlfriends, go on dates with Monsieur Z, travel. My life is the perfect combination of fun and family. Happy parent = happy children.

Here’s a small suggestion for those of you in the process of making this decision. If your children are young, a week can seem an eternity. Mom, take them Mondays and Tuesdays; Dad, you get Wednesdays and Thursdays, and both of you alternate weekends. Once they’ve reached the age of seven or eight, make the move to one week on/one week off. I find this arrangement benefits school-age kids, because it’s harder to follow through on homework and projects when they’re changing houses every couple of days.

I believe the younger generations of American fathers are much more involved than the over-40 crowd has been, so I think custody arrangements will change for the better. Until that time, we moms need to let Dad take the kids to the dentist. Believe me, he’ll soon be giving us pointers on how to get the kids to floss!

Now I believe is a fine time to plan a weekend getaway, sans enfants.

—The Fine Divorcée

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June 13, 2011 · 5:06 pm

Don’t sweat the small stuff

There are certain aspects of life we have no control over: the weather, air travel…and the ex. This is why we’re divorced—no partner to control us, and likewise no partner to control. And that’s fine if you have no offspring to raise. But for those of us who do have kids, once they head out the door to the ex’s, we relinquish all control. God only knows what may lie ahead.

I’m in such a predicament at the moment. Two weeks ago Mr. X and I had a thoughtful, respectful, yet strict conversation with our own offspring. The subject? No sitting in front of computers or TVs this summer or on school weekends. Outside activity is on the agenda and it’s non-negotiable. After some grumbling from the kids, we did actually negotiate a plan with them involving various sports, parks and healthy eating. Woohoo! Mission accomplished! Except…

We started out well. That’s because we started chez moi, where my health-nut lifestyle makes it easier for the children to stick to the rules. Last Thursday I sent Mr. X a reminder email about food and outdoor fun before the girls headed to his place. And guess what? Today I find out there was no outdoor fun of any kind all weekend, and questionable, frozen food dishes seemed to be on the menu. Arrrrrrghhh! All my hard work and careful meal planning out the window.

OK, deep breath. This is a perfect example of what entails Small Stuff. It’s not so important in the long run because the kids will be doing the right thing when they’re with me, which is 50% of the time. Big Stuff? Skipping class or hanging with drug addicts comes to mind. Of course their dad would never allow that. So am I going to give him a piece of my mind anyway? I’m very tempted, but will withhold my anger and just remind their absent-minded father about the agreement we made with the girls.

Your ex is probably weaker in some areas and more capable than you are in others. The solution is to fill in each others’ blanks. Mr. X is a math whiz, so thankfully it’s not up to me to decipher my 8th grader’s funky algebra equations before trying to explain it to her—wrongly. That’s what co-parenting is all about—sharing the joy and the pain. So don’t sweat the small stuff, because with kids there’s always plenty of Big Stuff to go around.

Now get outside and play. A fine dinner will be served at seven.

—The Fine Divorcée

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June 7, 2011 · 10:35 am

For the sake of the kids

I don’t agree with those who say that divorce is horrible for children and to avoid it at all costs. Those couples who stay together and hate each other—”for the sake of the kids”? No way that can be beneficial for the offspring. Children are much more aware and resilient than we give them credit for. The under-18 population has been overcoming horrendous odds long before we ever entered this earth: death, war, plagues, famine. Divorce is almost a walk through the park compared to these.

I say “almost” because we divorced or divorcing parents are often not keeping them from very negative repercussions. Telling the kids that Mom is insane is not helping them. Screaming at your ex over the phone because he’s late picking them up for the weekend is not beneficial. The children absorb these rants as partly or entirely their own fault. And asking them to take sides is, in my opinion, the lowest of the low. What is the point, really, except to make the kids feel even worse than they already do?

Mr. X and I discussed staying together for our girls’ sake, but came to the realization that since they were both so young (2 1/2 and 5 years at the time), they would never know the difference. An unhappy parent an unhappy child makes. Our girls are now 12 and 14 and are extremely content, well-adjusted teenagers (an oxymoron, I know). We always make sure they know how much we love them; we never speak poorly of the other parent in front of them. It helps tremendously that they were so young when we separated, but even if your kids are older, if you pay attention and support and love them as co-parents, they’ll be fine.

I’ll end this entry with a quote from my girls: “We love living with you one week and Daddy one week. The thought of being with one of you guys all the time? No way! It would drive us crazy!” I take that as a compliment.

Now is a fine time to pull out a photo of your little munchkins, smile at the thought of their messy bedrooms and send lots of love their way.

—The Fine Divorcée

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May 31, 2011 · 3:55 pm

Thou shalt not divorce

They say to never discuss religion or politics at a dinner party. I agree, so thank God, Allah, Yahweh and Buddha for blogs.

If you’re feeling extreme religious guilt over the moral connotations of divorce, then this entry is for you. (If you’re agnostic or atheist and ending your marriage, feel free to replace the word “God” with “morality”.)

Let me say first that I come from a very religious family background—about as religious as one can get. Fortunately, guilt wasn’t a big part of my own denomination, but it was still able to sneak in through the back door via my parents. Parental and religious guilt combined is a double whammy. So being a bit on the receiving end of both, I wrote a close relative, who happens to be a renown professor emeritus of religious history at a prestigious university. I asked him about marriage and religion. His response: “Marriage is a civil state, recognized by government and the law. The clergy only gives its blessing.”

Hmmm. Somehow I doubt the government cares about guilt. Or maybe in a way it does, with all those tax breaks for the married. But my feeling is that God does not want us to suffer and that He or She would most certainly not want us to stay in an abusive marriage. I’m pretty sure God is OK with divorce, as long as we’re not hurting others intentionally. Methuselah and his 969 years aside, it’s only been in the last 70 or so years that we’ve been expected to live long enough to have time to even think about leaving our husband or wife.

We all make mistakes and sometimes the mistake we made was just marrying the wrong person. The point is not to guilt ourselves into depression, but to take the initiative to do your divorce right. Don’t be petty or cruel or insensitive. Be empathetic, be flexible, be understanding. And, as always, keep the children out of the turmoil. If you do this, then there’s no reason to feel guilty. After seven years, I’m perfectly content to let my parents do that for me.

Now, why not take a deep breath, let it out slowly and do a little meditation on forgiving yourself? It’s a fine way to live.

—The Fine Divorcée

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May 27, 2011 · 11:53 am

Oh solo mio!

So many of us are afraid to leave a bad relationship for one main reason: we’re unaccustomed to being alone. Who will go out to eat with us? Who will watch the new season of Mad Men with us? Who will listen to us when we’re feeling low? It’s a bit scary, this being alone. But “alone” does not need to mean “lonely”. It just takes some practice getting used to hanging with our new BFFs: Me, Myself and I.

To set the record straight, Facebook is not to be included as a new BFF. Sitting in a room, staring at a screen as an excuse for intimacy is depressing. Those 452 “friends” you have listed? When was the last time you sat face to face in non-virtual reality and had an actual spoken conversation with one of them? If it’s been over two weeks, time to head out that front door and experience how wonderfully unexpected life can be on the outside.

Now that I’ve gotten the FB thing out of my system, on to more cheerful suggestions.  Outside of your friends and family, you really can learn to enjoy your own company. Here are some Fine Divorcée easy suggestions, based on much experience:

1. Take yourself out to eat at a congenial restaurant, preferably one that you know well. Bring along a book, magazine or i-version of either and seat yourself at the bar. Why the bar? You don’t have to look out over the crowd of couples and you always have the bartender to converse with. Plus, the bar is generally populated with others also eating alone. I adore this experience. If I’m in a social mood I’ll inevitably end up in a conversation with someone interesting. If I’m feeling solitary, then my reading material keeps me perfectly occupied.

2. Travel alone. Honestly, there’s nothing better for the soul, nothing more fulfilling. You can make your plans and no one will sabotage them. No need to even arrange your excursions in advance, as waking up in a new place with so many possibilities is one sensational energizer. Just wander and see what unfolds. I’ve met some fascinating people during my solo travels and learned much about others in the process. Don’t forget to use suggestion number 1 for refueling purposes.

3. Discover those interests near home that you’ve never had time for in the past. Being alone means having lots more time to treat yourself to the little joys in life. Now you can take that cooking class and finally learn how to sauté (hmm, definitely something I could use). Or how about that little farmers’ market you keep meaning to check out, but blow off for the convenience of the local supermarket? Or maybe it’s time to learn how to roller-blade like a pro? And my own personal favorite: a day at the spa. Just booked one for Sunday, actually.

4. The cinema. Yes, you heard me right—not Netflix, not Hulu—the movie theater. No better place on earth to hang out with yourself. It’s dark, there’s popcorn to not share with anyone, and a story in which to lose yourself. Of course, some places are weird about unescorted movie-going. I lived in Los Angeles for a bit in my late twenties and once was asked in a cinema line-up how many friends would be joining me. I said I was seeing the movie alone. “All by yourself?!” was the shocked response. L.A.—where insecurity rules.

There are some occasions where being alone can suck. I avoid going to parties solo where I’m not already part of the inner circle. These things are meant for socializing and no matter how many times I’ve forced myself into the situation, I’m always a little freaked out by it. If you still feel this way after trying my four suggestions a number of times, then no need to push the envelope. Call a friend instead. But I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to excel at at least two types of outings on your own. That reminds me of suggestion number 5: a nice glass of Pinot Noir can do wonders for your socializing capabilities.

Now, what is the name of that fine cooking class that I saw advertised on Facebook the other day?

—The Fine Divorcée

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