Show Notes
Stop fucking asking your kids what they want in the parenting plan. There. I said it. We're talking about why this "loving" little question is actually one of the most damaging things you can do to your child during a divorce. I know, I know. You think you're being fair. You think you're being inclusive. You think it's loving because "it's about the kids." Bullshit. What you're actually doing is dumping a grown-ass adult decision on a tiny human who should be worried about Lego sets and sneaking extra Cheez-Its. In this episode, I'm breaking down the six biggest reasons this "loving" little gesture is actually screwing your kid up. We're talking about how it puts them in the middle, how high conflict exes will manipulate the hell out of this opportunity (and yes, your ex WILL do it, stop being naive), and how kids will choose the parent with the iPad over the parent with structure every single time. I also get into why your kid might shock you and pick the high conflict parent, the people-pleaser pipeline this creates, and the messy validation-seeking trap parents fall into when they ask their kids "Did you miss me? Do you love me more?" Listen, your kid's job is to be a fucking kid. Not a messenger. Not your therapist. Not a tiebreaker in your divorce. If you can't make decisions without your six-year-old's input, that's not a kid problem, that's a YOU problem. And if you're sitting there thinking "but my kid is mature for their age," I've got news for you. They're still a kid. Be the adult. I share a real client story about a birthday party that went sideways, talk about why "what's familiar" is what kids will always pick, and give you the only acceptable way to handle this without traumatizing your child. Plus, when (if ever) it IS appropriate to start asking for their input. Stop outsourcing your parenting to your kids. Here’s What You Can Actually Take Away:
Your Kid Is Not Your Co-Parent - Children should never be put in the position of choosing custody schedules, holidays, or living arrangements because that's an adult job.
High Conflict Exes Will Manipulate - If you give a high conflict person an opening to influence your child's "choice," they will exploit it every single time without hesitation.
Kids Choose Comfort, Not Best Interest - Children pick based on iPads, snacks, and short-term rewards, not stability or what's actually good for them long-term.
Asking Creates Broken Promises - When you ask your kid what they want and the court decides differently, you've set them up for disappointment and broken trust.
Validation Seeking Is a You Problem - If you're asking your kid "do you love me more?" that's your unhealed shit, not your kid's job to fix.
The People-Pleaser Pipeline Is Real - Kids forced to manage adult emotions grow up to be chameleons who marry narcissists and forget who they actually are.
Familiar Is Not the Same as Best - Kids will always pick what they've always known because that's all they know, not because it's what's healthy for them now.
Be the Adult, Period - Your child's only job is to be a kid; your job is to protect them from having to make choices they were never supposed to make.
The Truth Bombs
"You chose to have them, you get to pick. This whole idea of asking them, we're not doing that."
"Your kid's job is to be a fucking kid. To worry about what Lego set they're asking for, not what custody schedule works best."
"High conflict people manipulating kids is their middle name. Get with it. This is who they are."
"Don't ask your kid to fill your fucking tank. If you wanna feel good about yourself, go do something."
"She's a kid and you're an adult. Be the adult in her life and take care of it yourself."
"Kids will choose comfort, not what's in their best interest. The parent with the iPad wins every time."
"It's not your kid's job to pick between two parents. It's your job to protect them from having to."
"When a kid doesn't know what something looks like, they'll pick what'
More from The Ugly Truth of Divorce
The hardest part of co-parenting isn't always what your ex says. Sometimes it's that they say nothing at all. They read it. They sit on it. They answer a completely different question, or they ask you one back while dodging yours entirely. And you freeze. You're not allowed to make a unilateral decision, so you wait. Meanwhile the school needs the form back Thursday, the coach needs an answer by tomorrow, and your kid keeps asking whether they can sign up for floor hockey. Our kids end up paying for another adult's decision to ignore us.
Early in a separation, almost every parent has the same reaction: I don't want my ex taking my kids out of state. That fear is normal. It's also the fear that gets parents to sign restrictions they spend the next decade regretting. This week I'm answering the question directly, and then I'm flipping it. Because every limit you put on your ex lands right back on you.
Your parenting plan was written assuming you'd both stay put. Life doesn't care what you assumed. A dating app match, a cheaper cost of living, a job offer three states away, and suddenly the plan built for two local parents doesn't fit the family it's supposed to protect. This week I'm walking through what actually needs to be in your parenting plan before someone relocates, not after. Start with the distance rule. Most plans use something like 30 miles or 30 minutes. Move inside that line, and the whole plan stays exactly the same: same visitation, same holidays, same everything. Move past it, and the plan should trigger a rebuild, not a scramble. Your plan should also answer whether the parent can move out of state at all, what notice they owe you, whether court approval is required, and whether the move triggers an automatic review. Then comes the real question: is this an adjusted schedule, or a full long-distance parenting plan? If pickups, school drop-off, and weekday dinners aren't realistic anymore, you're building a completely different structure, one built on big chunks of time instead of weekly visits. Spring break, summer, fall break, winter break, these start shifting to the parent who moved, while the local parent keeps school-year stability. I'm also covering the thing most attorneys forget: a long-distance parent should still be able to fly in and watch a game, a recital, a school function, without it eating into their actual parenting time. And holidays need a full rework, because a long-distance parent is going to miss the ones tied to a single day, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Halloween, and gain more of the ones tied to a longer break, Thanksgiving, Christmas, summer. We're also getting into who makes the day-to-day decisions now, how child support recalculates when the schedule changes, who pays for travel and what happens when a flight gets canceled, how teenagers change the long-distance equation, what happens when a kid gets sick right before a trip, and what a reasonable communication schedule actually looks like when “we'll figure it out” isn't good enough anymore. The goal isn't to force the old plan to work. It's to build one that matches the life you actually have now.
Summer's coming, and if your parenting plan has a vague vacation clause, the same fights you had last year are already loading. Who asks first. How long you can be gone. Whether your ex gets “makeup time.” Whether you owe them an itinerary down to the restaurant. None of it should be a fight, and all of it becomes one when the plan doesn't spell it out. This week I'm walking through the six vacation fights I see over and over, and the exact clauses that shut each one down before it starts. First, the question nobody asks: does vacation even have to be during summer? I don't think so. Summer-only is predictable, but it's also peak pricing and packed destinations. Year-round vacation language gives you flexibility, cheaper travel, and room for the life you're building, not the one you're surviving right now. Stop living small inside your parenting plan. Ask for the vacation time your future self will want, not what this year's budget says you can use. Then the fights. “I asked first” is not a clause. I'll show you why notice-based language, 30 or 60 days, beats first-come-first-served and April 1st deadlines. How long can you be gone? That's a custom build, because three consecutive weeks is ridiculous to your coworker Stacy and completely necessary if your family lives across an ocean. Can vacation get tacked onto existing parenting time? It can if your plan doesn't say otherwise, and that's how your ex turns seven vacation days into three weekends in a row. Do you owe time back? No. Vacations supersede visitation, and time lost is not regained. Makeup time just gets muddy, and high-conflict people will stack it into a second vacation they never had to call one. And the two information fights: not enough, and too much. I saw a plan recently that required a parent to ask permission and wait 10 days for their ex to approve a vacation. Gross. Your plan should be written so well that you're informing, not asking. Destination, dates, emergency contact, flight info. That's it. And on the flip side, if your ex wants the full itinerary, every restaurant, every activity, daily phone calls? No. Safety information matters. Control does not.
Larry handed you a parenting plan with a list of holidays, a list of breaks, and a line about vacations, and called it finished. He never told you which one wins when two of them land on the same day. And your high-conflict ex found that gap before the ink was even dry. This week I'm breaking down the one paragraph missing from almost every parenting plan on earth: the order of priority. Because a list of holidays, breaks, and vacations with no hierarchy isn't a plan. It's an invitation for a high-conflict parent to clean house and take from you every single time.