She Was Co-Parenting With An Amazing Dad

Frustration & Reflection: Co-parenting with an Amazing Dad

A Single Mom's Unexpected Journey

As I sit alone in my cozy cottage-core apartment, the echoes of laughter and playful chaos that once filled my luxurious home are replaced by unnerving silence. It’s the second week of the month, so my four children spend it with their father. During our divorce, we agreed to physical and legal custody of the children split 50/50.  I thought I had the upper hand. I was supremely confident that my ex would wither and die under the pressure of full-time parenting for a week. For me, it would be a cakewalk, a walk in the park; I’d done it so many times when he was traveling for work. 

It’s so quiet now, and while I should be relishing this quiet time to myself, I am overwhelmed with frustration, jealousy, and regret.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. When my ex-husband and I decided to go our separate ways, I envisioned a new chapter of freedom and self-discovery. I read all the mantras and memes on social media. I subscribed to single-mom YouTube channels suggested by my single, unmarried friends. They assured me that I deserved more fun and less responsibility. They painted a picture of an exciting, carefree life, free from mundane parenting tasks. I was convinced that focusing on personal enjoyment would make me happier, a belief that now feels foolishly naive.

Fuck my friends.

The reality is starkly different. I find myself in a single-mom era, unhappily grappling with the daily demands of raising four active children with no support. I’m sure a lot of this has to do with their transition from having a single household with both mom and dad to having two homes on opposite sides of the city, but my little darlings crave attention now. And to add salt to the wound, my ex-husband excels at co-parenting. He has become the parent I always aspired to be but never quite managed.

My plan backfired. I believed he would be suffocated by the responsibilities of being a single dad. But the more duties, kiddie tasks, and after-school games and practices I dumped onto his plate, the more efficient he became. His newfound dedication made me look at him and all men differently. To be honest, it seems we (women) are the problem. 

Centuries of accepting and hoarding the responsibilities of primary caregiver to our children have deprived men of the instinct and ability to nurture through protection. It seems that now that I have removed myself as the roadblock, my ex can reconnect with his primitive self. His desire to protect and provide for our children is limitless, and he lets nothing stand in his way. Not his job, not his overbearing mother, not his needy siblings. 

I hate to say it, but the man is fucking awesome. 

When I drop the kids off at his place, I see the joy in their eyes. They are excited to spend time with their dad, who seems to have mastered the balance between being fun and responsible. He plans activities, helps with homework, and maintains a structured routine. He’s patient and attentive, qualities I struggle to embody as I juggle work, household chores, and the constant stress of single parenthood. He’s still a firm dad, but he is less rigid and softens the blow with humor and disastrously comical attempts to be the cool dad.

I envy his ability to connect with our children in ways I can’t. And honestly, I am jealous that they now experience the magnetic personality of the man I fell in love with all those years ago. He takes them on day trips to fancy museums and picnicking on luxurious golf courses to see how “the other half” lives. They share inside jokes, give each other high-fives, and explore nature through popular hiking trails. 

It’s not that I don’t try—I do—but I often find myself too exhausted or distracted to engage with them fully. My attempts at fun activities often end in frustration, and the guilt of not being enough weighs heavily on me. Add to this the fact that I’m also trying to plan a girl’s night out or squeeze in a date, and it seems like there’s simply not enough time.

I honestly don’t know how he does it. There’s also a deep-seated resentment that I’m ashamed to admit. I resent my ex-husband for being so good at co-parenting and for making it look easy while I struggle. But the truth is, it’s not his fault. He’s doing what any good parent should do. The real issue lies within me and the choices I’ve made.

Listening to my single friends, I prioritized personal enjoyment over my children’s needs. Late nights drinking out have led to me sleeping in late when my kids are home. My oldest girl often prepares cereal or eggs while I manage a hangover in bed.  Fleeting relationships with men who shower me with attention until they discover I have four children have gotten me nowhere.  And the ever-present need for temporary escape has left me feeling more empty than fulfilled. In chasing an illusion of freedom, I’ve lost sight of what truly matters.

Realizing that my ex-husband is better at something so fundamental, something that should come naturally to me (shouldn't it?), is a hard pill to swallow. But this realization has also sparked a desire to change. Although I look at my ex with wonderment, I will never tell him so. But that feeling has helped me release the cold, hard bitterness that lingered after our divorce. I am less likely to pick a fight with him and more likely to say “Please” and “Thank you” to him. I don’t want to be the decision maker because my ex will likely apply more logic and sound strategy to our children’s upbringing than I do.

I am not there yet, but I am certainly on the road to becoming the mother my children deserve, to be present and engaged in their lives, to create a home where they feel loved and supported.

It’s not going to be easy. There will be many moments of doubt and difficulty, but I owe it to my children—and to myself—to try. I need to let go of the resentment and jealousy, stop comparing myself to my ex-husband, and focus on becoming the best version of myself for my kids.

I read somewhere that the longest-lasting relationships are between men and women who know, understand, and accept their roles. We are not the same, and we are not equal. We will invariably do one thing much more easily and more often than the other. That’s okay because the other person likely possesses some powerful trait or characteristic that makes up for our shortcomings. In the end, it’s supposed to balance out.

Parenting is not a competition. It’s a journey of love, patience, nurturing, guidance and growth. And while I may have stumbled along the way, there’s still time to find my footing. My children are my world, and they deserve the very best of me. Now that my delusions of single-parent grandeur are behind me, it’s time to put them first to embrace my role as their mother with all the joy and responsibility it entails.

I hope that one day, my children will look back and see a mom who never gave up on them or herself. A mom who learned from her mistakes, who grew stronger through her struggles, and who loved them more than anything in the world.

I hope my children see a mom who is so confident in herself that she freely shares them with an amazing father, and she’s not afraid to say so.