Or: how to raise children with someone you no longer want to be in the same room as, without losing your mind
Alt text: Three children holding hands standing on grass
Co-parenting is one of those things that sounds perfectly reasonable in theory – two adults, putting their children first, communicating maturely, getting on with it. In practice, it is frequently an exercise in patience that would test a Buddhist monk. But if you want your kids to come out of the whole split thing without emotional baggage, you’ve got to try and get it right.
So, here’s what I wish someone had told me and a few things I’ve picked up along the way. If you’re currently knee-deep in the co-parenting trenches, this one’s for you.
The relationship with your co-parent is now a business arrangement
Once a relationship ends, there’s often a temptation to either stay too emotionally entangled or to burn the whole thing down. Neither is useful when you have children together.
Think of it like a business. You have a shared project (your kids), so you have mutual responsibilities that you need to communicate when necessary and keep professional, and you don’t bring your personal grievances into the operational meeting. Does it feel weird? Yes. Does it work? Also yes.
It also helps enormously if you can get to a place where you stop expecting your co-parent to behave the way a partner would. They just need to do their bit for the children, and if they’re doing that, honestly, that’s enough.
Pick your battles
Did he let them stay up until 10 PM and eat Haribo for dinner? Yeah, it’s annoying, but not the end of the world.
Look, as single mums, we’re basically professional chaos managers. But you can’t control what happens in the other house. Unless they are truly in danger, sometimes you just have to pour a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, take a deep breath, and let it go. If you fight over every little thing, you’ll be permanently knackered.
When logic has left the building
Ever have one of those weeks where you feel like co-parenting is just you trying to stop the whole thing from becoming a total bin fire? Because yes, same.
After one particularly stupid week, I tried a psychic reading with Nebula, a spiritual guidance space that has a vast choice of advisors for exactly this kind of 2 AM mental tailspin. It was surprisingly grounding, which is not something I expected to say in public, but there we are.
It didn’t make everything suddenly neat and manageable, obviously. But it did take the edge off, and I got a different kind of clarity — one that logic alone couldn’t have offered.
Put the arrangements in writing
Who’s got the kids at Christmas? What about holidays? How long is it for? All that stuff. Look, I get it; it’s about as exciting as sorting socks, but just write everything down. Even if you’re both lovely and reasonable right now, life has a habit of throwing curveballs. It can be an email or a shared Google Calendar where you write everything down so you can stop sending each other a thousand messages.
Don’t make the kids pick a side
I always remind myself that the kids didn’t sign up for any of this. They’re just trying to be kids, you know? It’s not fair to ask them whose side they’re on. Honestly, the last thing they need is to hear my opinion on their dad’s questionable life choices.
I know that such restraint is easier to talk about than to practice. I know there are days when something happens, you’re furious, the children are right there, and the urge to say something is overwhelming.
But don’t. Save it for your girls’ chat, your therapist, or the dog. Anyone but the kids.
The Bottom Line
Co-parenting without conflict doesn’t mean you have to be an emotionless robot. You’re allowed to sit in the car after drop-off and eat a squashed cereal bar to decompress.
Just keep the communication functional, and remember that the goal is to raise humans who feel loved and secure – not to win a years-long argument with your ex.
You’ll mess it up sometimes. We all do. But if the kids are mostly happy and there’s still a bottle of something cold in the fridge, you’re doing better than you think.
Now, pass the corkscrew. I think we’ve earned it.