Joint custody works, but it's not easy

A couple of weeks ago I stood on the playground at my children's school and kissed my daughter goodbye. All around me other parents were doing the same, sending their kids off for a last day of school before break. The only difference was that I wouldn't see or even speak to my children again for 11 days. They were going on vacation to Austria with their father and their stepmother; I was not. I did my best to smile brightly and assure them how much I loved them and hoped they would have a good time. Another mother standing next to me began to cry. She asked me how I could stand it. I left as quickly as I could.

My children's father and I separated and then divorced several years ago, when my son was in kindergarten. Next year he'll be starting middle school. It seems like a lifetime ago now that we were married, but somehow the 11 days also felt like a lifetime. It didn't for my children, and that is good news. I certainly don't want them sitting around pining for me and our house and our life, and to be truthful, I didn't sit around pining either. Actually, my husband and I went on a trip of our own, but the rhythm of time without children is different.

As any parent who goes on vacation without children knows, even a simple overnight can feel like a weeklong retreat when no one is asking you to tie shoes, or play catch, or braid hair at all hours of the day. One woman I know said that the first time she went away without her kids she was worried sick until she left, and then she practically forgot she ever had children. The difference is that this woman chose to go away without her kids, whereas I don't have that choice.

I certainly think my children have benefited from joint custody, in our case meaning that they might spend some nights at their father's house and some nights at ours in a given week, and we trade off for vacations and holidays.

What's not to like about a trip to Austria, or Jamaica, or Disney World? Seriously, they have excellent relationships with everyone involved (and that's a big crowd, I can tell you).

Their father and I are amicable, and we have worked out the intricacies of having bicycles, and homework, and sports equipment in the right place at the right time. We attend teacher conferences together. We have resolved thorny issues involving religion and dentistry and Christmas dinner. I hope we are setting a good example for our children of how to relate to someone with whom you differ. How do I stand it? I have no choice in that either.

Divorce sounds so final when you are standing in court. Like a lot of things, it isn't as simple or as final as it sounds. Look at the return of all those bands from the '60s and '70s who said they'd never play together again. The Eagles said not until hell freezes over. It sounds like a divorce, doesn't it? Their joint property is songs, precious reminders of youth gone by.

My joint property is flesh and blood, my children, and it is no less precious to me, or to their father, though generally they cost, rather than make, money! Their father has had his turn on the playground, and we each will again, many times. Who said what doesn't kill you makes you stronger? It's true. That's how I stand it.

Kirsten Feldman lives in Newton.