How Do You End A Marriage Amicably?

Clearly, I’m failing.

In the ongoing saga that is the end of my marriage, my husband Joseph agreed to try a “Parenting Marriage”.

It means that we focus on the kids without a romantic partnership. He can date whoever. I can date whoever. We have schedules. There are agreements, much like a divorce, except staying under one roof for the sake of the kids.

The problem? All of this hinges on staying amicable. And we’re failing miserably.

It’s 3:00 pm on Thursday. Our kids have switched to a hybrid model of school and afternoons are virtual classes. Combined with my son’s additional therapies through his IEP and my daughter’s Early Intervention online classes, afternoons are hectic.

While my son Ashton is doing online physical therapy, his sister Eva takes the shiny new iPad my husband bought (according to him, “the other two were so old that the latest updates for their games couldn’t be installed and they’re too slow when they play Minecraft”).

Ashton starts screaming in the middle of his Zoom session and crying how he hates his sister. He’s 10 but his autism makes his emotional maturity at about 5. Eva’s in her room bemoaning how she never gets the new iPad.

When his therapy ends, there’s more fighting over the new fucking iPad. I tell Ashton to go into his sister’s room and instruct Eva to bring me the iPad. She refuses. I holler, “I am not getting up to get it. If I do, you’re losing it for…a long time.” I’m not quite sure what day of the week it is anymore and I didn’t want to say “the weekend” in case that was days away. Mom fail.

I go into Eva’s room where she back talks about how I can just take it. With that sass talk, I grab the iPad. As Ashton hovers like a vulture to have the fucking tablet, I tell them “we’re going to install software on it so that you’re both limited to the same amount of time and no one can complain they had more than the other.”

When Joseph bought this new iPad, he agreed to install a parenting control app on it because our children’s electronic usage during social distancing is out of control. He didn’t install anything on it. I wasn’t going to buy an app (I’m way too cheap to do that without full research). Instead, I wanted to install a trial of Net Nanny to show them how they would be cut off after testing for five minutes.

If you’re saying to yourself, “bitch, just take them away forever” then you tell that to my husband. The guy who bought a brand new fucking iPad just to make Minecraft run better for children. Because Joseph refuses to read anything about the damaging effects of electronics on children’s brains, he thinks anything under ten hours a day per child is acceptable.

Joseph storms upstairs and says, “what is going on? All I hear is yelling!”

I say without looking up, “where does the App Store make it obvious if something is paid or a trial?” (I’m an Android girl and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t accidentally paying for something when I wanted it temporarily.)

At this point, World War III erupts.

“WHY ARE YOU INSTALLING THINGS ON MY IPAD?” he yells, grabbing it from me.

“I…I wanted to show them what it will look like with a time limit on when they use it…” I stammered.

“YOU CAN’T GO AROUND INSTALLING THINGS ON MY IPAD! THAT WOULD BE LIKE IF I INSTALLED THINGS ON YOUR…” he waves in the direction of the work laptop I have next to me, “LAPTOP OR PHONE”. While I’m not sure I would equate an iPad that Joseph purchased with the sole purpose for the kids to play games with a company-issued laptop, I kept my mouth shut on that point.

I tell him that I thought it was a communal family iPad like the other two we have since he lets the kids take it and use it without supervision. We never know where any of the iPads are at any given moment. Joseph yells at me some more than the other two devices are his because they’re from work (from a former company issued 5 years ago that I doubt they’ll reclaim).

My son is watching all of this as I say, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that it wasn’t intended for family use. You were busy in meetings and I made an executive decision to show them how trial parenting control software will look.” Joseph yells at me some more that I could have revoked the new iPad and I reply that even if I do that, they find the others and sneak off with them.

I asked him why he lets our children use these devices when they have free reign to install things on their own without his permission. Joseph replies that they can’t buy anything because they don’t have the password to make purchases on the App Store.

“So…then I wouldn’t have been able to install anything either because I don’t know the password.” My mic drop moment. I stare at him with a do you think you’re making too big of a deal over something I couldn’t have done anyway? look. Joseph yells at me some more, swears, and leaves the bedroom.

I wish I could say that I kept my cool over something so ridiculous. Instead, I bawl like a baby. Not about the iPad. I cried because years of explosive anger has broken me. My crying annoys Joseph. He comes back and yells at me some more. I point out that I apologized and the only reason I told him my perspective was that he asked “WHY”. He rants that this is what I do: I control everything without consulting him.

“Just like how you bought an iPad without any parental controls for our kids to use without consulting me?” I angrily tell him.

Suddenly, he realizes my point. With a different attitude, Joseph apologizes to me. Later, he comes over with a look of concern and says, “I handled that poorly. I’m really, really sorry. I have a lot of work stress and clearly, it was getting to me.” Joseph pulls the kids into the room and tells them how he shouldn’t have behaved the way he did to me.

Great. Now he’s amicable but I’m the asshole because I’m stewing over him having a tantrum and berating me in front of our children.

Later, my kids come to me and say, “maybe you should get your own iPad. Then dad won’t yell at you when you use his.”

I’m torn. Do I accept yet another apology and move on? Am I an asshole if I say no, this ongoing behavior means we can’t be amicable and it’s unhealthy for the kids? Am I overreacting because I can’t handle the constant adult tantrums followed by an emotional apology?

Unfortunately, I’m more stuck than ever before. Our children’s school is now a hybrid model and our work schedules require my husband to do drop-offs while I do the pickups. Neither of us can play single parents while juggling our work schedules and the hybrid school schedule.

At this rate, I’ll volunteer for a vaccine trial if it means getting life back to normal and moving forward with a separation.

I’m writing this as Joseph falls asleep while putting my son to bed. I’m relieved to avoid any follow-up discussions but I’m also nervous because I want the courage to say, “these meltdowns and then blaming work stress isn’t something I can continue to live with.” I want to tell him that our kids are older and are witness to our disagreements, unlike their toddler years.

I’m too scared for Joseph’s reaction if I tell him that I changed my mind about trying a Parenting Marriage because things are too emotionally volatile. We’re not modeling good behaviors for the kids. I don’t want my kids to see us behaving the way I saw my parents’ interactions which left me confused over healthy relationships.

If I tell him this, he’ll have another temper tantrum and won’t behave amicably in front of the children. Every study shows that it’s not divorce that harms kids, it’s the conflict between parents that damages them. I don’t care if Joseph treats me like garbage in private as long as in front of the kids, he acts like we’re BFFs. Unfortunately, he can’t fake friendliness and I’ve learned to treat him with kid gloves if there’s a chance he’ll behave like a temperamental child in front of friends or our kids.

My son, crying hysterically over a broken Lego set, yelled “Why is everything so hard to put together but so easy to take apart?!” Kid…you summed up your parents’ marriage in a single sentence.