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The Holiday season is nearly synonymous with the word ‘family’; it is undoubtedly a time for togetherness, yet for families whose parents are divorced, the Holidays can be just the opposite: a fractious, frenetic, logistical nightmare where ex-husbands and wives often find themselves duplicating the Holiday experience for their children in separate households, miles away, and often on different days altogether.

While I’m certain many divorced parents have devised novel solutions to the dual-household problem, (Santa visits your house on even years, mine on odd years, for example) I believe I have found perhaps the simplest solution of all: Christmas day at my house and everyone’s invited, including the ex; and why not any friends of his who might be around; and while we’re at it, why not the ex’s father as well—he is, after the children’s grandfather. Yes you heard right. In our house we celebrate holidays—not only Christmas, but most of the others as well—all together; me, the wife, the kids and the ex and his ilk. Like a big, blended, extended, dysfunctional family. Though it may sound strange, I ask you to consider precisely the opposite: perhaps coming together for one holiday makes far better sense than perpetuating two alternate versions of the same thing.

First I must acknowledge that my situation, or rather the situation between my wife Elizabeth and her ex husband Rob is remarkably amiable, though it wasn’t always such. It took time for the scars of divorce to fade, yet when all was finally said and done, Rob and Elizabeth were fortunate to be able to move beyond and become friends. Which in turn allowed me to ease my own distrust and trepidation towards Rob; in the end I was forced to consider how much of that malice was truly mine, or merely a projection of some outdated social norm, an Eisenhower era mandate that says a divorced couple has to remain at odds without any type of civil interaction, and that I must at all times play the role of the ambivalent ‘Other Guy’.

I have been the ‘Other Guy’ now for more than ten years, an enabler, if you will, of what can only be described as a ‘non-traditional’ divorce. Me, my wife and her ex husband view ourselves first and foremost as co-parents; we shed our personal differences and focus instead on the one goal we collectively and unequivocally share: raising the children. Make no mistake—we all practice vastly different parenting styles from one another, but the result we strive for is the same. It’s not about us. So if that means all meeting at the same restaurant, as we often do, to celebrate one of the kid’s birthday parties, so be it. If nothing else, it seems a lot more practical in the long run, provided that all ex’s and steps can share the same table without killing one another. But more importantly, is it not a better experience for the kids themselves? By my estimation, they will always carry the sorrow of their natural parent’s parting; so wouldn’t it only soften the blow to see all the parents in their life coming together as friends for the special occasions?

Still, for all it’s practicality, our non-traditional divorce has and will continue to butt up against old-school, traditional divorce morays like two rams on a spring mountaintop. On-lookers will poke fun wherever and whenever they can; implying at every turn that something must be amiss if divorced spouses fraternize too closely with one another. One acquaintance of ours, for example never misses an opportunity to remind us how often they see Rob’s car in our driveway. Even though there is a perfectly logical, non-salacious explanation, such as how else would you propose Rob drops the kids off to us when his weekly turn is over, or the 2 or 3 times a week when he picks them up from school, not mention shuttling to and from sports? But how boring is that? Based on the cyclical grapevine that always gets back to us in our small town, apparently it is much more fun to imply the illicit within our sordid, non-traditional divorce triumvirate than simply grasp the obvious. And how’s this for yet another shocker: sometimes when Rob drops off the kids, I’ll ask if he’d like to stay for dinner! Ward and June Cleaver certainly would never approve.

Often, the traditional “do’s” and “don’ts” of divorce mention that the separate households must be strictly delineated so as not to confuse the children. This is Mom’s house. This is Dad’s house. Period. The notion implies that if these lines become blurred, the child may not be able to fully accept their parents’ divorce. Yet in ten years, watching my two step sons grow from toddlers to teenagers, there has never once been any confusion on their part. Mom is Mom; dad is Dad; Geoff (me) is Geoff, who is now married to Mom.

Full disclosure. At least the kids get it.