As a blended family parent, I can say without hesitation that the worst thing that can happen to your kid – short of being a former Disney child star – is feeling torn between two homes for the holidays. Especially when you and your ex aren’t exactly BFFs.

However, something happened this past Halloween that was a surprisingly positive turning point for my family, something I wouldn’t have imagined happening a couple years ago. My 8-year-old, Olivia, wanted to spend Halloween at my house, trick-or-treating with her sisters. She and her mom recently moved to a new place. I suspect she was feeling a bit displaced, especially since her mom just ended a long-term relationship.

The problem was, it wasn’t my weekend and trading wasn’t going to work. Plus, my daughter – to her credit – was feeling some loyalty to her mom, not wanting to leave her alone on a holiday, 80 miles away. This made me extremely proud, even if I wanted her with us (my daughter, not my ex). I didn’t push the issue because I didn’t want her to feel more torn than necessary.

I did briefly flirt with the idea of inviting her mother over to trick-or-treat with us, but there’s enough weirdness at shared school functions. I still wasn’t ready to make that big of a sacrifice as a parent. Though I want to do what’s necessary for my daughter, I didn’t think we were all ready to trick-or-treat together.

For Olivia’s Sake

With a few days to go, Olivia and I were on the phone, again discussing the problem about Halloween. Her mother got on the line and surprised me by saying that she’d be willing to give me Halloween weekend, if she could trick-or-treat at a couple of houses in my neighborhood with Olivia, just the two of them.

There went my chance to be the bigger person first.

I recognized she was making a sacrifice and, by then, I wanted to resolve the whole thing. After clearing the idea with my wife, I said, “Why not just trick-or-treat with us all?” 

Which she did. And it was … okay.

And sometimes, okay is more than enough. There was no singing and raucous laughter about the old days, which was for the best. After all, baby steps and whatnot. We all got along fine, though I imagine it was easier since we were in a big group, which included some friends, their daughter, my mom and two dogs. There wasn’t the opportunity for superfluous, awkward conversation (“Boy, that was some judge we had, huh?”). It was also easier because focus was where it was supposed to be: On the kids.

There were a couple of weird moments, like when I called out the name “Michelle,” and both my wife and ex-wife responded. Apparently, I can only marry women named Michelle. I’m pretty sure my mom wasn’t completely comfortable, which I understand. It’s the old “Only I am qualified to tell my son he’s stupid and wrong; anyone else does it and we become mortal enemies” deal.

Still, everyone was cordial. The egos and differences of the adults weren’t the priority.

Four years ago, I would have snarled like an angry weasel at the idea of taking our daughter trick-or-treating with my ex-wife. No one could have told me that time heals. But, it has – maybe not entirely – but we’re getting there.

That said, I don’t think this experience will be replicated over Christmas. Once was enough this year. Talk to me about the future when we get there (You’ll know we’re there because there will be a big sign that says “Future”). Maybe it will happen when our daughter has her own kids … maybe.