Missing Out …

I’ve been pondering a bit on divorce recently (not specific to myself, you’ll be pleased to hear). William has two quite close friends at the moment, both of whom have divorced parents, and both of whom, like Will, are only children.

J, on the one hand, has parents who maintain an extremely friendly and fairly close relationship, despite both having new partners, while A’s parents (more recently, and very bitterly, divorced) barely tolerate each other, and communicate almost exclusively via email.

The common denominator in these two cases, is that the children’s time is split 50/50 between parents. J’s parents reached an amicable agreement about this, while A’s slugged it out in court very acrimoniously (and EXTREMELY expensively) and the judge ruled in favour of shared custody.

Now, one never knows what goes on in someone else’s relationship, so I don’t really have an opinion on either of these cases, but what has struck me, and I’ve found myself thinking about again and again of late, is how absolutely devastating it must be to only spend 50% of your child’s life with them.

Childhood is so fleeting: I cannot believe William is nine – so grown up so quickly, and unbelievably, probably half the years he will spend living at home are already gone. I can’t imagine the pain of knowing that I could only spend every other Christmas or birthday or weekend, or even day, with my son. The alternative (remaining married) must have been even more horrendous than this: my mind boggles.

And every time I think about this, I count my blessings again and again.

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3 thoughts on “Missing Out …

  1. Caroline
    I spend every other day with my little girl – have done since she was 18 months. I miss her on my off days but I do try to get a lot done so I can spend more time with her when I am around her. She loves it. She has two bedrooms full of toys and tons of people who love her.

  2. Hi Jen – please don’t think I was ‘having a go’ at anybody – I really tried to word my post so it didn’t come over as critical to anybody in the situation I was writing about, but perhaps I haven’t managed it – if so, I apologise. The only point I was trying to make was how sad I would be if I could only spend half William’s childhood with him. This point was brought home to me yet again yesterday, when I witnessed polite wrangling between J’s parents, trying to negotiate who got to have him on the night of his birthday. They eventually came up with a solution that didn’t really suit either of them (but at least they didn’t have a screaming row about it, on the plus side!!)

    I’m really not trying to offend, but it’s something I’ve been turning over in my mind a lot recently, and I wanted to put down my thoughts.

    Thanks for your feedback, it’s appreciated xx

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