A shelf for the child who already knows their parents live apart, and now has to actually do it. A bedroom in each house. A bag that goes back and forth. A toothbrush at Mom's and a toothbrush at Dad's. You pick the one that matches your child's age and whatever they're asking about this week. The youngest ones here are almost entirely practical, two beds, two front doors, which house your rabbit lives at, and that is deliberate. Two Homes is a good place to start if you're not sure where to go in: it counts up the two of everything, calmly, and never once explains why.
Pick by your child's age and what they're actually asking. What holds it together is a decision the youngest books make on purpose: they answer the logistics and skip the feelings. Two Homes is two of everything, two beds, two chairs, two front doors, and it never tells you why. Living with Mom and Living with Dad is the practical one, and it's built out of lift-the-flap spreads about which house has your things and what you carry back and forth. That literal, unsentimental inventory looks like a small ambition and it is the thing most divorce books skip, because a four-year-old is rarely asking why their parents split. They're asking who is fetching them on Thursday. Fred Stays with Me! is the cleverest book here and takes the same idea further: the girl moves between houses and her dog goes with her, so the dog is the continuity, and the trouble in the book is the parents disagreeing about the dog, which is the real subject wearing a disguise. Dinosaurs Divorce is the outlier and doesn't pretend otherwise, it's a manual, headings and all. The two novels are a different act altogether: Dear Mr. Henshaw and It's Not the End of the World are for older children, they're sad in a way the picture books are not, and both come from a divorce world that no longer exists. Read their notes before you hand either one over.