di-vor-ce n

1. The ending of a marriage by an official decision in a court of law
2. A complete separation or split

Well, Webster is half right. But, when you are divorced with children, there is no such thing as a complete separation. Despite a filing cabinet full of legal documents saying you are split, kaput, finished, your lives remain intertwined. You are court ordered to cooperate, to include your ex in all major decisions impacting the children.

For example, I cannot move out of my zip code without giving my ex the chance to contest the decision. If I hire a babysitter, send the kids to camp or bring in a tutor, he must approve. I’m not complaining. I think co-parenting is important and having input on where your children are and who is spending time with them is vital to their wellbeing.

Recently, my ex’s fiancé called off their engagement. I don’t know who was more upset, him or me. It isn’t that we were buddies. But, I knew what I was getting with her – more specifically, I knew what my kids were getting and she was decent step-mom material, not ideal, but decent.

Now, my ex is one of those people who can’t be alone for a minute. He’s ferociously loyal when he’s partnered and ragingly desperate when not. He’ll choose warm body over alone every time and wonder later what went wrong with the relationship. Since he’s on the market again, and since I love our children, this concerns me.

Recently, the ex boasted he’d registered for match.com and that his broad partnering criteria returned 3,700 potential matches within a 30-mile radius of his home. Great, I thought to myself. 3,700 opportunities to guarantee my children will need therapy well into their fifties.

So, I did what any concerned mom would do – checked out his match.com profile.

When my sides stopped hurting from gut-splitting laughter, I picked myself up off the floor, crawled back into my chair and thanked the gods and goddesses that I am in a relationship and don’t have to sort through the self-appreciating bullshit on match.com.

My ex’s profile displays him bedecked in his Sunday best, standing in front of a crackling fireplace. 3,700 women are thinking this is what they’ll get. He “loves travel and the ocean,” “owns a boat,” is a “meat and potatoes kind of guy.” While all of this is true, I can guarantee you reality wont match the visions these words put in the minds of his potential matches.

Let me paint a clearer picture, ladies. That dapper man in front of the fireplace, when not posing for a match.com portrait, can normally be found walking through the house wearing only tighty-whities and socks, with one hand scratching his ass and the other shoving “meat and potatoes” into his mouth and letting the spillage dribble down his chest. His claim to fame in high school was clearing out a whole classroom with one enormous fart. Yes, he has a boat. It was built in 1972. It sits on a trailer in storage with its transom rotted out. Oh, and the ocean travel? It’s his job. He’s a fisherman who is gone 9 months a year. Still interested?

Suddenly, it dawned on me. Custody law harbors a glaring inconsistency. If divorced parents have joint decision making authority in all areas impacting the care of their children, how then can exes be excluded from deciding who becomes their child’s stepparent? In the child’s best interest, I submit, the laws need tweaking.

Just think of the possibilities. Were I in charge of my ex’s match.com profile, I could scare off 2,699 women with my experience and honesty. The single remaining woman would be his perfect match! She’d tolerate the ass scratching, the money dumped into a boat that will never again float and the lonely months he’s gone “traveling.” She’d probably even be into the tighty-whities with white socks look.

With this in mind, I’d like to take this opportunity to announce the launching of a new internet dating site, scratch.com: