Don’t Compete: How Letting Go of Time, Attention, and Status Protects Your Child

In the first post in this series, we wrote about the most critical shift in co-parenting. Rule #1 asked us to put our egos in the backseat and always return to the question:  “What does my child need?”

Rule #2 builds on that foundation and asks us to let go of competition. 

Competition for time. 

Competition for attention.

Competition for status.

And sometimes “competition” is subtle and sneaky, masquerading as justified wants or “making up for” something.  But once you start seeing where it shows up in your language and actions, you’ll become a pro at spotting it. 

So without further ado, here’s … 

Rule #2: Don’t Compete

Not for Time. Not for Attention. Not for Status.

As we said above, competition in co-parenting rarely announces itself.

It usually shows up disguised as fairness. Or advocacy. Or love.

It shows up as tallying days, noticing who “gets more,” or feeling bent out of shape when the other parent is able to be present for a special moment.

And that makes sense. The grief of divorce is real. We grieve the lost time, the loss of control, and the loss of the life we thought we were building. Competition is a very real human response to that loss. It’s our way of trying to regain footing when we’re not sure where we stand.

AND, parental competition is not healthy for kids.

We’re going to keep coming back to this, but research tells us that children are impacted by ongoing parental conflict and tension far more than they are the initial separation. Even when that conflict is unspoken or dressed up as logistics.

Competition isn’t actually about the children. It’s all about the adults: who’s winning, who’s losing, who’s being fair, who’s “cooler”. And once you fall into the competition trap, Rule #1 slips out of reach.

Being child-centered requires more than good intentions. It requires us to notice when our own grief, fear, or insecurity is starting to drive the bus — and to gently take back the wheel.

Competing for Time: When “Fair” Becomes the Wrong Question

Time is often the first place competition shows up.

It’s easy to fall into a mindset where you’re doing what Rebekah likes to call “Custody Calculus”:

If I lose a day, I need a day.
If you get a holiday, I should get the next one.
If I bend here, they’ll have to make it up later.

But children don’t experience time that way.

Kids need both parents — their perspectives, their experiences, their ways of seeing the world. And all time with a loving parent is good time, even when it’s not happening in your house.

That doesn’t make the grief any smaller. It just helps us put it in its place.

From Sean: 

“Initially, I was absolutely struggling with the perceived loss I was experiencing. I’m sure I was looking at custody as an ‘if I lose a day, then I need a day.’  Whether it was just time, or Rebekah’s grace in continuing to stay flexible even when I was rigid, eventually the ‘bank’ idea started to kick in. Every conversation and compromise was us investing in our adult relationship – paying into an emotional bank that we could draw from when we needed to.”

Flexibility doesn’t mean chaos. And it doesn’t mean always saying yes or acquiescing to something that doesn’t feel right. 

The key is to avoid rigidity or “stuckness.”   (If you find that you keep getting stuck and having the same set of feelings come up, we can’t recommend Pema Chodron’s Getting Unstuck enough.)

Every time you’re flexible when you can be, it builds trust. Every time you stay respectful of the other parent’s time, it reinforces the idea that this is a shared project, not a competition to be won. The trust matters, because there will be moments when you need flexibility and the trust lays the foundation for that to happen.

As we were navigating co-parenting across 2,000 miles, some of our most exhausting conversations had nothing to do with values or big decisions. They were about flights. Work schedules. Airports. Prices. Timing. Ski rentals. Missing end of year concerts. 

A Tuesday flight meant Sean missed work, but we saved $400. A Wednesday flight meant R. missed a band concert, and it was more expensive, but Rebekah could get him to the airport. You get the picture. We lost countless hours negotiating the “right” way to get our child from one place to another. And yes, those days were hard. But all of those conversations were the important work. They got us to where we are now.

There are 365 days in a year. The real question isn’t how to divide them perfectly. It’s how to manage them together in a way that allows your child to experience growth, challenge, support, and joy.

Competing for Attention: Presence Beats Performance

And while we’re on the topic of shared time, we need to talk about the competition trap that can pop up when you know you have a limited amount of time with your child.  Attention. 

By nature, the co-parenting landscape is littered with missed moments. 

The result of that is often a sense of imbalance and a fear of growing apart.

You can have just as much impact from the wings as you can from the spotlight. Hero status doesn’t come from extravagance; it comes from presence. From putting your phone down. From listening all the way through the story. From playing their favorite game with them, even if it’s boring or you lose every time.  With our kids, hero status comes from showing up for the mundane moments with care and attention.

Some of the most meaningful relationship-building happens in the ordinary: car rides, homework help, folding laundry, cooking dinner, walking the dog. Those moments don’t look impressive from the outside, but they are where trust, safety, and connection actually grow.

From Rebekah:

“Early on in our co-parenting, I really struggled with this.  I was a single parent, starting a school, and often felt like I was relying on the iPad and building toys as a babysitter.  It was hard when I saw Sean spending his days off doing fun things with R. that I didn’t have bandwidth or time for. I eventually grew to understand that teaching R. how to cook while we were making dinner and making up songs while we folded laundry was also quality time.”

Not competing for attention also means being really conscientious about how you show up in times when the whole family is together. Making space for your child to have moments with both of you. Sometimes the best way to manage these times is to pre-game with your co-parent. Talk about potential pitfalls, figure out what matters to each of you and find the give and take.  Again, “the work is the shortcut” and it’s these conversations that build the foundation for a healthy adult relationship.

Holidays, in particular, can be loaded when it comes to attention. No matter what your custody schedule, there are missed traditions, and moments of “I wish _______________ were here” to weather. Plan ahead. Figure out when to FaceTime.  And then let them enjoy their time where they are. (More on this in Rule #4.)

Trying to pull focus from the other parent only serves to highlight your own points of insecurity and it doesn’t help in the long run. 

Competing for Status

Just as the co-parenting landscape is littered with missed moments, it’s also full of comparison landmines.

Those result in a similar sense of imbalance, and worry about not being good enough. 

That fear can push us toward performative parenting. Bigger experiences. More excitement. Bonus treats. Creating gratuitous “special” moments. We try to earn our place instead of trusting that it already exists.

But kids don’t need to be impressed.
They need to feel seen.

Neither of us had the means to be extravagant parents. And honestly, we don’t think it would have changed much if we had. What mattered was consistency. Reliability. Being emotionally available with the time we did have. 

Status doesn’t come from being the parent with the most disposable income or the one who has all the time in the world. It comes from being a steady, authentic presence over time. From respecting the other parent’s role instead of competing with it. From letting go of the idea that parenting is a hierarchy to be won.

Kids don’t benefit from parents trying to outrank each other. They benefit from adults who are secure enough to stay in their lane, do their work, and show up honestly.

Competition Is Heavy. Cooperation Is Lighter.

Competition is exhausting.

It takes energy to keep score.
It takes energy to defend your territory.
It takes energy to stay vigilant, always looking for the next perceived loss.

And kids feel that; even when we think we’re hiding it well.

Letting go of competition doesn’t mean you’ll always agree or always have to “fold”. It doesn’t mean you’ll never feel grief or frustration. It means choosing, again and again, to orient towards shared purpose instead of individual victory. (Remember the question: “What does my child need?”)

When you can let go of competition, you make room for collaboration. 

Rule #2 asks us to put down the scoreboard. To trust that presence matters more than performance, that flexibility nets more than rigidity, and that status has nothing to do with love.

In that space, communication has a chance to become clearer, calmer, and more direct.

That’s where we’re headed next.

In Rule #3, we’ll turn toward how co-parents talk with each other, and why discussing things first, and sharing later, is one of the most protective moves you can make for your child.