That part I knew for certain, because they told me, in that direct, unfiltered way kids have of saying true things before they learn to soften them. They wanted both parents in the stands. They didn't understand the logistics of why that wasn't always possible, and honestly, some days I didn't have a good enough explanation for them, or for myself.
I want to be clear that I am not here to drag anyone through the mud. Coparenting is complicated, and the early days of it are especially jagged, full of people trying to figure out new rules for a situation nobody trained for. But I'd be lying if I said it didn't cost me something, sitting in that parking lot. It did. It costs me every single time.
What I've learned, still learning, is that you don't always get to choose which moments you're present for, and that has to be okay, even when it really isn't. What you can control is the conversation you have with your kids afterward. The "tell me everything" when they get home. The re-enactment of the goal, the performance, the moment, done right there in the kitchen while someone's still in their hockey gear because you could not wait one more second to hear about it. You build your version of the memory with the information they bring home to you, and you hold that as tightly as you would have held the real thing.
I still haven't fully made peace with the parking lot moments. I'm not sure I'm supposed to. Some things in coparenting are just hard, and dressing them up as a lesson or a silver lining feels dishonest. So I'll just say this: if you've ever sat in your car outside a building where your kids were doing something wonderful, watching the time tick by and feeling every single minute of it, I see you. That's one of the quieter hard parts of starting over, and it doesn't get enough airtime.
I'm still navigating it. Most days I do okay. But in all honesty, 99% of my efforts to try and maintain a respectable relationship with my co-parent is so I don't have to miss a thing. On the good days, I am welcome. On the bad days, I wait for them to come home and walk through the door and tell me every detail.
It's not the same. But it's what I've got, and I show up for it every time.
