Disclaimer: This is all my personal story. I'm not sharing this just for the sake of sharing it but rather as something that might help someone else who went through or is going through the same thing and doesn't really understand how to deal with it. (All names are substituted to protect the identities.) I hope this might help but if not it might give you perspective into someone else's life.
When I was 3, my younger sister (Robin) was born. When I was 6, and she was 3, my parents told us they were getting divorced. I was at the end of my kindergarten year. Within months, my parents had separate houses and I began to alternate between the two, carrying my sister along with me.
With my mom, we moved into a small two bedroom apartment next to my elementary school. My sister and I shared a bed, along with the puppy that slept in our room. I remember Robin would slip out in the middle of the night to sleep with my mom, scared.
With my dad, we moved into a small house on a residential street with lots of kids. Robin and I shared a room with two separate beds. I was the mother there, from age 6. I helped make dinner, got Robin up for school, made breakfast and our lunches, basically took care of her.
My whole elementary school "career," I spent barely getting through day after day of endless bullying at school just to come home and cry for an hour every night. Then start all over the next day.
Fast forward to the end of my fifth grade year. My mom got remarried. My stepdad (Ted) and my two new step-siblings (Sarah and Brent) moved in. I liked them well enough but my dad didn't like to hear about them and whenever my sister brought them up he was closed off. I continued to care for my sister and was even a mother figure at my mom's house now. She didn't pay as much attention to her as the new additions to our family took up more space. She's better now but I still care for Robin at both houses. I love my family, as well as the additions. My mom and her husband have been happily living together for 3 years now along with us four kids that rotate in and out throughout the week.
My dad had a new girlfriend that I love and thank goodness my sister does too.
I love my family to my dying breath but I don't think I would so much if I knew that we were all together even more after this separation. To be even cheesier, if that's possible, I would like to say that the saying is somewhat true. Two happy houses are better than one unhappy house, at least in my case.