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Divorced With Kids

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Divorced with Kids is written anonymously by a 43-year-old woman who lives in a pretty, prosperous small town where most people stay married. She shares custody of her sons, 15 and 9, with their father, who lives a few blocks away. They divorced in the fall of 2009 after 18 years together. Read more of her writing at Irretrievably Broken.

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This happy childhood brought to you courtesy of divorce

A commenter on my last post said she was disappointed that I’d referred to my father and stepmother’s kids as “their kids” instead of “my siblings.”  Oh dear.  I get hopelessly tangled in semantics whenever I try to describe my family.  The fact is, I don’t distinguish between full and half and step siblings in MORE »

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A colossal problem

So I’m back, and my children have turned into utter cretins. I exaggerate, but just a little.  Ten days apart has made us a bit strange with each other. In my case, this strangeness manifests as a constant urge to hug and kiss them against their wills, to play actual games involving cards and boards MORE »

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Packing

I’m going somewhere. See if you can guess where? (Hint:  if you can’t tell by the books, all is revealed on my other blog.) I’m massively excited. Long ago, when I was a fresh-faced college student, I spent a semester in this particular city, and I haven’t been back since. My kids, as I said, MORE »

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Truly shared custody

When we split up, my ex-husband had never flown alone with the kids. He had never taken either one of them to the doctor or the ER unless I was there too. He had never taken them away overnight anywhere without me, unless his mother/brother/other relatives were also there.  He’d stayed HOME with them overnight, MORE »

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Stitches

On Sunday night, the phone rang. “We’re at Gymnex,” my ex-husband said.  This is a well frequented workout venue as well as a hospital, though the hospital has a different name.  “And they said he probably doesn’t need stitches after all, but we’re still waiting to hear from the doctor.” Wait, I said.  I must MORE »

When you stay

…the rooms hadn’t been emptied so much as they’d been manhandled into a patchier version of themselves.  The sofa and dining tables and the better armchairs still in place, it was smaller items–desk lamps, cheap bookshelves, a butcher board chopping block–that would suddenly reveal themselves as not there.  You’d try to set down a glass MORE »

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A confession, and some general thoughts

I was away for a week, with no internet (well, two seconds every day on line just to make sure my children were still alive) and no telephone and boy, it was wonderful.  I got back late last night.  Yesterday morning I was in Honduras, and then last night I was in bed in my MORE »

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Mediation

DWK and her husband fail mediation.

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