Colorado Family, Criminal & Estate Law Glossary

It’s just the legal name Colorado uses for divorce — same thing, fancier word. And because Colorado is a no-fault state, you don’t have to prove your spouse did anything wrong. You only have to say the marriage can’t be fixed, and the court can move forward.

This is the one and only reason you need to get a divorce in Colorado — basically, “this marriage can’t be repaired.” Here’s the part that surprises people: if one spouse believes it’s over, that’s enough. The other person can’t block the divorce just by refusing to agree.

Think of it as hitting pause instead of stop. The court still splits up property, sets support, and sorts out the kids — but you stay legally married. Folks choose it for religious reasons, or to keep a spouse on health insurance. If you later decide to make it a full divorce, you can convert it after six months.

Pretty much everything you and your spouse pick up during the marriage — the house, the cars, the savings, the retirement — even if only one name is on the paperwork. When you divorce, it gets divided fairly, which the court calls “equitable.” Fair doesn’t always mean a straight 50/50 split, though.

This is the stuff that’s just yours — what you owned before the wedding, or a gift or inheritance that came to you alone. You generally get to keep it. One wrinkle, though: if it grew in value during the marriage, that increase is usually treated as marital and gets divided.

This is Colorado’s rulebook for splitting up what you built together. The judge aims for a fair division — not automatically down the middle — looking at things like what each of you contributed and where you each stand financially. So one spouse might walk away with a bit more if that’s what fairness calls for.

This is Colorado’s word for alimony — support one spouse pays the other after a split, usually when there’s a real income gap. For marriages of three years or more, the state has a guideline that suggests a ballpark amount and how long it lasts. It’s a starting point, not a hard rule, and the judge has room to adjust.

It’s a contract you and your future spouse sign before the wedding that spells out how property and support would be handled if things ever ended. Think of it as setting the ground rules while everyone’s still on good terms. To hold up, it has to be signed voluntarily, with both of you being honest about your finances.

Same idea as a prenup — just signed after you’re already married. Maybe your finances changed, or you meant to do a prenup and ran out of time before the big day. It follows the same Colorado rules, so it still has to be fair and both of you need to lay your finances on the table.

Colorado is one of the few states where you can be truly married without ever getting a license or having a ceremony. If you agree you’re married, live together, and present yourselves to the world as a married couple, that can count. And here’s the catch people miss: to end one, you still need a real divorce.

This is the judge’s final signed order that officially ends your marriage and locks in the terms — who gets what, any support, and the parenting arrangements. Once it’s signed, it’s the law of your case. If someone ignores it, you can take them back to court to enforce it.

Colorado retired the word “custody” a while back. Instead, the court divides up two things: parenting time (when the kids are with each of you) and decision-making (who calls the shots on the big stuff). Every piece of it comes back to one question — what’s best for your child.

This is simply the schedule of when your child is in your care versus the other parent’s — what people used to call “visitation.” It’s spelled out in your parenting plan and counted in overnights. Those overnights matter beyond the calendar, too, because they factor into how child support gets figured.

This is about who gets a say in the big decisions in your kid’s life — school, doctors, religion, major activities — not the everyday stuff like bedtime. It can be shared between both parents, or given to just one. It’s a separate question from where the child actually sleeps each night.

This is the north star for every custody decision in Colorado. Instead of asking what either parent wants, the judge asks what setup is best for the child — weighing things like the kid’s needs, each parent’s involvement, stability, and whether you’ll support the child’s bond with the other parent.

This is the written playbook for raising your kids across two households. It lays out the regular schedule, who has them for holidays and summer, how big decisions get made, and what you’ll do if you disagree. If you and the other parent agree on one, the judge usually signs off; if you can’t, the court writes it for you.

This is the money meant to cover your child’s day-to-day needs after a split. Colorado runs both parents’ incomes and the overnight schedule through a set formula, so it’s not a number the judge just picks out of the air. The idea is that your child keeps getting support from both of you, roughly like they would if the family were still together.

This is the logic behind Colorado’s child support math. You add both parents’ incomes together, look up what a family at that income level typically spends on a child, then split that cost between you based on income and parenting time. The thinking is that your child should share in both parents’ resources.

When parents can’t agree on custody, the court can bring in a neutral outsider to dig into the situation and recommend what should happen. They talk to both sides, sometimes the kids, and write up a report. That report carries real weight with the judge — so how you work with a CFI genuinely matters.

Think of a PRE as a CFI’s more in-depth cousin. This person has mental-health training and does a deeper, more thorough — and frankly more expensive — evaluation. Courts usually bring one in for the tougher, high-conflict cases where there’s a lot to sort out.

This comes up when one parent wants to move far enough away that it would shake up the other parent’s time with the kids. The court weighs a specific set of factors before allowing it, and honestly, these are some of the hardest family cases out there. If you’re facing one, careful preparation makes all the difference.

This is the point where, for child support purposes, your kid is legally on their own and support ends. In Colorado that’s generally age 19 — not 18, like a lot of people assume. There are exceptions both ways: support can run longer if they’re still finishing high school or have a disability.

This is the special court order that lets you actually split a retirement account — a 401(k), a pension — between spouses in a divorce. Here’s why it matters: done through a QDRO, that transfer happens without getting hit with early-withdrawal taxes or penalties. Skip it, and dividing retirement can get expensive fast.

This is the big one — driving under the influence. You can be charged if your blood alcohol is 0.08 or higher, or if alcohol or drugs have left you unable to drive safely, even below that number. And it’s not just alcohol; marijuana and other drugs can land you a DUI too.

This is DUI’s lesser cousin — driving while ability impaired. It kicks in when alcohol or drugs affect you even “to the slightest degree,” roughly in that 0.05 to 0.08 range. It carries fewer points and lighter penalties than a DUI, but make no mistake — it’s still a criminal conviction on your record.

Here’s something most drivers don’t realize: just by driving on Colorado roads, you’ve already agreed to take a chemical test if you’re lawfully arrested for DUI. Say no, and you trigger an automatic license revocation and a “Persistent Drunk Driver” tag — and that’s completely separate from whatever happens in criminal court.

This is a label the state attaches in the more serious situations — a high blood-alcohol reading of 0.15 or more, refusing the test, or a repeat offense. Once it’s on you, it brings mandatory strings attached: an ignition interlock in your car, pricier insurance, and required alcohol-education classes.

It’s basically a breathalyzer wired into your car — you blow into it, and if it detects alcohol, the car won’t start. After a lot of DUI license revocations, Colorado requires one before you can drive legally again. The upside: signing up for the interlock is often the fastest route to getting back on the road.

This is a separate battle from your criminal case — it’s a DMV hearing that decides whether you keep your license. Here’s the trap people fall into: you generally have only seven days from your arrest to request it. Miss that window, and the revocation just kicks in on its own.

These are the roadside tests you’ve seen — walking a line heel-to-toe, standing on one leg, following a pen with your eyes. In Colorado they’re actually voluntary, and they’re supposed to follow strict national guidelines. Officers get them wrong more often than you’d think, which is why they’re a common place to challenge a case.

Think of this as a second chance built into the system. You plead guilty, but instead of the conviction going on your record right away, the court hits pause while you complete certain conditions. Finish them, and the case gets dismissed — almost like it never happened. It’s a powerful option, when you qualify for it.

Colorado lets you hide many arrests and some convictions from public view, so they won’t pop up on a typical employer or landlord background check. The record still exists behind the scenes for the courts — it’s just tucked away from prying eyes. What you’re eligible to seal, and how long you have to wait, depends on the offense.

This is the less-serious tier of crime — think up to 364 days in the county jail and/or a fine, rather than prison. A lot of first DUIs, smaller thefts, and minor assaults land here. Don’t brush it off, though: even a misdemeanor can follow you around for jobs, housing, and licenses for years.

This is the serious end of the scale — crimes that can send you to prison and carry heavier fines. In the DUI world, a fourth offense crosses into felony territory, and if someone gets hurt, a case can jump up to something like vehicular assault. The stakes here are a whole different ballgame.

This is a court order telling someone to stay away or stop contacting another person — what folks often call a restraining order. It comes up a lot in domestic and family situations. It’s worth knowing there are two sides to these: people who genuinely need protection, and people who’ve been wrongly accused.

This is one of the first stops in a criminal case. You stand before the judge, the formal charges get read to you, and you enter your plea — guilty, not guilty, or no contest. It’s an early checkpoint, so it’s a smart moment to already have a lawyer in your corner.

This is a deal with the prosecutor — you agree to plead guilty, usually to a reduced charge or for a lighter sentence, instead of rolling the dice at trial. It’s a trade: certainty in exchange for some leniency. The vast majority of criminal cases end this way rather than in front of a jury.

Bond is what a court sets to let you out of jail while your case plays out — sometimes money, sometimes just conditions you have to follow. The whole point is making sure you actually come back to court. Conditions can ride along with it too, like an order to have no contact with someone.

This is supervision you serve out in the community — either instead of jail or after a stint — while following rules like classes, drug testing, or regular check-ins. Think of it as staying free on the condition that you toe the line. Break those rules, and the judge can revoke it and hand you the original sentence.

This is a fact that cranks up the penalty on a crime without being its own separate charge. In Colorado, a “domestic violence” tag works this way — it’s bolted onto an underlying offense like assault or harassment and raises the stakes. So the base charge stays, but the consequences get heavier.

This is a court-ordered erasing of a record — not just hiding it, but wiping it out. In Colorado, true expungement is mostly reserved for juvenile records and a handful of adult situations. For most adults wanting a clean slate, the realistic path isn’t expungement but record sealing.

This is the court process for wrapping up someone’s affairs after they pass — proving the will is valid, paying off their debts, and handing out what’s left to the right people. Colorado keeps it flexible with a few tracks: a simple one for small estates, a smoother informal path, and a formal route for when things are contested.

This is the signed, witnessed document where you spell out who gets your belongings, who’ll settle your estate, and — if you’ve got young kids — who’d raise them. Think of it as leaving clear instructions so your family isn’t left guessing. Without one, the state’s default rules decide for you, and they may not match your wishes.

This is the legal word for dying without a valid will. When that happens, Colorado’s built-in formula decides who inherits — usually spouse and children in a set order. The trouble is, that formula doesn’t know your family, so it often splits things up in ways you’d never have chosen yourself.

Think of a trust as a container you put your assets into, managed by a trustee for the people you want to benefit. A common one — a revocable living trust — lets you control your stuff while you’re alive, then passes it to your loved ones without going through probate. That keeps things faster and more private for your family.

This is just Colorado’s name for what most people call an executor — the person in charge of settling an estate. They gather up the assets, pay the bills and taxes, and make sure everything reaches the right people, all under the court’s watch. It’s an important job, so it’s worth naming someone organized and trustworthy.

This is a document where you hand someone you trust the authority to act for you if you can’t — either handling money and bills, or making medical calls. Picture yourself in the hospital, unable to sign or decide; this lets your person step in without a court battle. It’s a cornerstone of any solid estate plan.

These are the documents that spell out your health-care wishes ahead of time, for a day when you can’t speak for yourself. It usually pairs a living will — your instructions on life support and end-of-life care — with a medical power of attorney naming someone to make calls for you. It spares your family from agonizing guesswork.

This is when a court gives someone the authority to make personal and medical decisions for another person who can’t — usually a minor, or an adult who’s become incapacitated. Think of an aging parent with dementia, or a child whose parents can’t care for them. The guardian steps in for the day-to-day life-and-care choices.

This is guardianship’s money-focused counterpart. A court appoints a conservator to manage the finances — paying bills, handling accounts, protecting assets — for someone who can’t do it themselves. Sometimes one person handles both roles; sometimes the court splits the personal side and the financial side between different people.

This is anyone you name to receive something — through a will, a trust, a retirement account, or a life insurance policy. Here’s the part that trips people up: those beneficiary forms on your accounts override your will. So if an ex is still listed on an old 401(k), they could inherit it — which is why you keep those updated.

This is the tool you reach for when someone flat-out ignores a court order — skipping child support, withholding your parenting time, or not turning over property they were told to. You ask the judge to hold them in contempt and force them to comply. In some cases the judge can even make them cover your attorney fees.

These are just the two roles in a case. The petitioner is whoever files first and gets the ball rolling; the respondent is the one who gets served and answers. In Colorado family court, don’t stress about which one you are — who filed first almost never changes how things turn out.

This is an early, low-key check-in with the court — more housekeeping than showdown. The judge sets deadlines and figures out the schedule for hearings down the road. It might feel routine, but it sets the pace and tempo for the rest of your case.

Divorces take time, and life doesn’t pause while you wait. Temporary orders are the court’s interim rules for the in-between — who lives in the house, the parenting schedule, and support — that hold everyone over until the final decree. They’re also telling, because they often hint at how the final orders may shake out.

This is the formal information-swap that happens before trial, where each side has to lay its cards on the table — financial records, written questions, requested documents, even sworn interviews. It’s how you find out what the other side actually has. Done right, it’s where things someone hoped to keep buried come to light.

In a Colorado divorce, both spouses are required — not just asked — to swap sworn financial statements and back them up with documents early on. Think of it as everyone opening their books so property and support can be figured fairly. Trying to hide assets here can seriously backfire when it comes out.

This is sworn testimony taken before trial, outside the courtroom — usually around a conference table with a court reporter taking down every word. The other side’s lawyer asks you questions, and your answers are locked in under oath. It’s a key way to pin down exactly what a witness will say before you ever get to trial.

This is a private, off-the-record sit-down where a neutral third person helps the two of you work toward an agreement — without a judge deciding for you. Colorado courts often want you to try it before a contested hearing, and it settles most cases. You stay in control of the outcome instead of rolling the dice in court.

“Foreign” here just means out-of-state or out-of-country — not necessarily another nation. This is the process of officially registering that outside court order in Colorado so it can be enforced or changed here. It’s essential when a family moves across state lines and an old order needs to work in a new state.

This is the fancy Latin term for representing yourself, without a lawyer. Colorado absolutely lets you do it, and the court even provides forms. But filling out paperwork is the easy part — the real value of a lawyer is knowing what’s worth fighting for and what you can safely let go.

A motion is simply a written ask to the judge — “Your Honor, please do this specific thing.” It might request a hearing, a change to an existing order, or that the other side hand something over. Most of the back-and-forth in a case runs on motions from one side and responses from the other.

This is the document that actually opens your case and tells the court what you’re asking for — like a Petition for Dissolution of Marriage to start a divorce. Think of it as the opening move that gets everything rolling. Whoever files it is called the petitioner.

An affidavit is a written statement of facts that you swear is true and sign in front of a notary — basically testimony on paper. Because you’re under oath, lying in one is a serious matter. Colorado family cases run on these; the Sworn Financial Statement you fill out is one example.

This is an official, court-backed order to show up and testify, or to hand over specific documents or records. It’s not a polite request — ignoring one can bring real penalties or even a contempt finding. If you get served with one, it’s worth taking seriously and getting advice.

This is just a fancy word for an agreement between the two sides. Once you both sign off and the judge approves it, it stops being a handshake and becomes a binding court order. That’s a good thing, too — most divorces wrap up through stipulations rather than a knock-down trial.

This is simply a postponement — pushing a hearing or deadline to a later date. The court grants one when there’s a good reason, like a scheduling conflict or needing more time to prepare. It’s routine, but you generally need to show the judge a legitimate cause, not just that you’d rather wait.

The docket is the court’s official running log of your case — every document filed and every hearing scheduled, listed in order. The same word also means a judge’s lineup of cases for a given day. If you ever want to know what’s happened and what’s coming up, the docket is where you look.

This is what can happen if you get properly served with a case and then just… don’t respond or show up. The judge can rule against you without hearing your side — often giving the other person exactly what they asked for. If this happens to you, moving quickly to try to undo it is critical.

This is a court’s authority to actually decide your case — both power over the subject (like a Colorado divorce) and power over the people involved. It matters more than it sounds: if a court didn’t have jurisdiction, its orders may not be worth the paper they’re printed on.

This is the formal, provable way of handing the opening court papers to the other person, so they can’t later claim they never knew. It’s what makes a case official enough to move forward. Colorado has specific rules for how it has to be done — you can’t just text someone the papers and call it good.

This is a court order that reaches money before it ever gets to the person who owes it — usually by having their employer hold back part of a paycheck, or their bank freeze funds. It’s a common way to collect on a judgment or catch up past-due support. The money goes straight toward the debt.

A lien is a legal claim parked on top of your property — a house, a car — to secure a debt you owe. Picture a sticky note on your home that says “this much has to be paid first.” Generally, you can’t sell the property with a clean title until that lien is paid off or released.

This is the legal clock — the deadline for actually filing your case. Let it run out, and even a strong claim is usually barred for good, no matter how right you are. How much time you get depends on the type of matter, which is exactly why it pays to ask early rather than late.