When I was little, I used to stand at the window, waiting for my mom or dad to come pick up my brother and I at the other parent’s house. I was so excited. Every time. I would stare out the window and as soon as I saw their car go by I would run upstairs, grab all my things, and dash out to the driveway. Being away from one parent, for any amount of time, has that effect. Even if it has only been a day or two, seeing them is the most exciting thing to happen to you since the other parent got you two days before. For some reason being away from them, even if it is for a short amount of time, makes you appreciate them and the time you spend with them even more. That is the difference with having divorced parents, you have an appreciation for what it’s like when they aren’t there.

My parents were divorced by the time I was 5 years old. In elementary school kids always asked me why I had a bag of clothes with me, or why I had an extra set of uniform clothes with me or why I had two “take home” folders. At first, I was taken aback. Isn’t this how everyone works? Doesn’t everyone have two take home folders? And doesn’t everyone have to pack for the other parent’s house if their getting picked up right from school? I quickly learned that, no, not everyone had two of everything, not everyone split their time between two houses and two parents. That’s OK I thought, they just won’t know what it’s like to have two Christmases and two birthday parties; it’s OK that they don’t really get it. That is the difference with having divorced parents, you have two of everything. Two celebrations of the same holiday, two bedrooms, twice the chores, two sets of rules to abide by, you name it. You are organized.

At 7 years old, you know what to pack for the next few days and what you’ll need at each house. You know what books, shoes, clothes, and (of course) toys to pack and which can be left behind while you’re gone. You get good at goodbyes. You kiss each of your stuffed animals goodbye in the morning before you leave and tell them you’ll see them soon. You take two minutes to snuggle each pet and give them a hug and a kiss and tell them you’ll be back before they know it, you hug your parent before you get in the car because you know you won’t get the chance to say goodbye to them in the ever-always-anxiety-inducing-drop-off-line and you want to hug them before you’re gone for a few days because, let's face it, as a little kid you never know what could happen.

Then you get older. You decide you don’t feel like lugging a bag through school, you’ll make do with what you already have at the other house. Instead of two of everything your parents split it. You get one holiday with one parent and the next holiday with the other parent. You don’t say goodbye to your stuffed animals or real, live animals and you yell a distracted “bye, Mom/Dad” as you rush out of the car at school or out the door from their house with arms full of schoolbooks. You get annoyed that their rules aren’t always the same. One parent tells you to be home by midnight and the other tells you to be home by 10 p.m. so you roll your eyes and tell them “that’s not what Mom/Dad said.”

Then you get a little older, you can drive and so they let you pick what days you stay where, what holiday you spend with which parent, you get to make the decisions. But every time you get in the car to go to the other parent’s house, on the day you chose mind you, you wish you could spend just a few more hours with them. You think of the fact that you will be leaving for college in less than two years and you’ve only spent half your time with each parent, it just doesn’t seem like enough. So you start hugging them goodbye again, you snuggle your pets before you leave because they’re getting older too, you start packing what you need because it adds that much more time at each house before you go, you start listening what they’re saying and following their different rules. You revert back to elementary school you and the compliance that came with it. That’s the difference with divorced parents, you realize you grew up fast and, even though you went through the annoying middle school/young high school phase, you are so grateful for the inherent lessons that come with divorced parents. You are appreciative of every moment with each parent and all that comes with the different households. You take a deep breath, and then acknowledge that you were raised differently than many others, but that you are better off having learned the lessons that come with being a child of divorce.

If you survived two family Christmases when you were only a little kid, you can survive anything; thank you, divorced parents.