Photo: Tallulah Fontaine
The moment I start to resurface from sleep, I instinctively strain to hear my sons. Are they awake and about to flop onto my bed" Quinn, my seven-year-old, will be half-asleep and toting his stuffed pirate. Casey, 9, who?s been reading in bed, will want to chat about the day?s plans. But if there?s stillness, another question floats through my still-foggy brain: Are they here at all" Because a few times a week, they?re not. They?re in their bunk beds at their dad?s condo. On those mornings, I hug my duvet and doze for a glorious 10 minutes more. I must admit, I?m usually not devastated.
There was a time I was. For a while, waking up without my snuggly, sleep-mussed boys was as terrible as I imagined it?d be. In the boggy mess of emotions when my marriage ended five years ago?fear, grief, relief?nothing was as painful as the realization my days of daily cuddling at dawn were over. I would be a partial parent. A half-mom. I?d forever be a broken-hearted lump?and they would be sad, divorce-damaged kids. That?s not, however, what happened. It?s taken me a library of self-help books and a fantastic therapist to get here, but I now know that not living under the same roof as my kids full-time isn?t the pit of fiery agony I thought it?d be. In fact, it has its perks.
I don?t advocate anyone join our club?we, the four in 10 couples who divorce before their 30th anniversary?but I can attest that what Tarah Sly, a program director at Ottawa?s Sepa...