So weekends are the worst!

Every other weekend I go to my Dad's house. It is not that I do not think he wants to to see me, but sometimes I feel like I am in the way. Then my Mom calls me several times. I know that bugs Dad. I do not understand why she has to call so much. I am ok with Dad. I've told her that but she does not seem to listen. Sometimes I feel like she can shut off her ears and not listen to me. And the worst part is the exchange. On Friday after school my Mom picks me up at the school. I can tell she is unhappy because she adjusts her hair a lot and looks back at me in the rearview mirror many times and her mouth is not happy. She does not say much, she does not need to. I try to sit quiet and just agree with what she says. I know she does not like it when I tell her I am looking forward to seeing my Dad or that I am excited to spend time with him so I act like it is no big deal. I do not understand why me having fun with Dad would make her sad. When we get to the parking lot of the grocery store I hope Dad is there. I do not like to hear what Mom has to say about Dad if he is late. She brings up all sorts of things that do not seem to fit what is going on at the time. Used to have exchanges at the police station. I did not like that. Both of my parents would act different and I wanted to disappear. We can talk about that another time. So we are greeting close because Mom is looking back lots and her hair is sticking up by her ear. I do not know why she gets so mad. So thank goodness Dad is waiting there. He does not see us yet. He is smiling and singing along with a song on the radio. When he see us he stops smiling and singing. I hope he is not mad at me. It takes him a little while to start smiling and singing after Mom leaves. Let's make this quick. Please do not talk about things that make them mad at each other. Please talk about stuff when I am not there. I wish my Mom could smile at my Dad, say hello,here is your daughter, have a good weekend. I wish that my Dad could smile back and say thank you we will have a great weekend. My parents expect me to be nice and smile at that mean girl on my soccer team. They should have to be be the same. Anyway, I got in with Dad, Mom wanted to talk to Dad for a minute, here we go.... I just sit in Dad's car. People are looking. Please let me disappear. Dad FINALLY gets in the car. I know he is mad. I hate it when I have to start my time with Dad and he is mad! It is not fair. Now Mom is texting me. She is saying "see you on Sunday, call me if you need me." Why will I need her, I am with my Dad. He loves me. He will soon calm down and then we can talk. After awhile we both remember how much fun we have together and everything is me and Dad time. At least until Sunday and the exchange. I wish they would remember when we were a family.

Remember we were a family

This blog is written by a Family Law attorney. The names and facts have been changed to maintain attorney client confidentiality. Even though the letters are fictitious, they are based on true experiences told through the eyes of the children. The children who need a voice and want their parents to remember "we were a family."

Dear Mom and Dad
I do not know why we do not live together anymore. And I do not know why my Mom and Dad say such bad things about each other. I remember when my Mom and Dad used to laugh when they talked together. They used to hug each other. Holidays and summertime was so fun, now they are just something that my parents fight about. I remember that in the morning before I left for school and my parents left for work we talked about what we were going to do today. Who was going to pick me up from school and take me to dance lessons, or to my best friends birthday party, or just to the grocery store. I never used to worry about getting picked up and what would happen. Now I worry about that a lot. Now I worry about lots of stuff, but I cannot tell anyone about it.
I tell my Mom what I think she wants to hear. I tell my Dad what I think he wants to hear. But nobody tells me what I want to hear. Nobody listens to me, so I am going to write letters. Letters to Mom and Dad. Maybe someone will hear me. Maybe I can hear my Mom and Dad laugh when they talk together. Maybe holidays and special events will be fun again. Maybe Mom and Dad can come to my dance recital and sit together instead of on different sides of the gym with mean looks on their faces.

Maybe, maybe. I keep hoping. They are my Mom and Dad. They tell me that even though they are divorced and do not like each other anymore, they still love me. How? How can they hate each other and love me? We were a family. Now I understand that we are not the same family, but we are a new kind of family. Just what kind of family? Maybe we can figure that out together. Maybe.

Love,
Your Daughter