School’s been in session for a full week here, now, and I think we’re doing pretty well, all four of us. We’ve gotten the kids there on time with the correct lunch items in their respective lunchboxes each day, our older one has figured out that we’re unwilling to participate in any “oops, I left my homework at Dad’s” scenarios, and we’ve only had two “the kids said that you’re doing the exact thing we agreed we wouldn’t do” misunderstandings.
I am just so glad that we are sharing custody now. Last year I had them every weekday morning, so I did drop-off every day. Two different schools in different parts of the city. 105 minutes (on the subway and walking) from the time we left the apartment to when I got to my desk at work.
It wore me out. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally.
When we negotiated custody originally, we decided that the kids needed a primary home, that they would live with me and visit with their dad. And logically that made sense. But the day-to-day routine almost killed me, and that was really not good for the kids. (A lot of the stress is the logistics of living in NYC, which is its own story.)
I can’t speak to how LOD felt on a daily basis when the kids lived with me and visited him. I do know that it has gotten radically easier for me since we’ve been really sharing the parenting, and it’s easier to give him the benefit of the doubt. It feels to me like he’s being kinder to me, too.
It’s not that we’re not stressed now–I know I am just by all the effluvia of modern life. But it feels really good not to be white-knuckling every day anymore.