"Do you have kids?”
That is always a tough question for me. And I always find
myself stumbling over my answer. Yes, technically. I mean, they aren’t
necessarily mine as in the normal way one has kids, but, in all other
ways, yes, I have kids.
To be more specific, I have a stepson and two nephews. In my
mind, though, they are all my kids. I didn’t have them so-to-speak, but they are mine.
And, here’s why. This is what it is like raising someone
else’s kids.
When someone plays too rough
outside and falls off a skateboard, tumbles over a basketball, or skids off a
bike, you make sure you are there to wipe the blood, clean the wound, and dry
the tears.
When someone feels beat down after
a rough day at school or gets frustrated with a homework assignment, you speak
uplifting words and provide encouragement.
When someone has a favorite
breakfast, you go out of your way to make sure it is available in the morning.
When someone has interests, goals,
and the like, you do what you can to guide their pursuit. You let them explore
the things that matter to them.
When they do well, you praise them.
When they make a poor choice, you correct
them.
When a kid gets excited about
something, you feel yourself getting excited, too.
You brag about them.
You show up for them.
You sing with them, act goofy, and
have your own inside jokes.
You do what you can to not let them
down. And, if you ever accidentally do, you beat yourself up for it long past
the time they’ve stopped thinking about it.
You make sacrifices to see them smile.
You hug and kiss them goodnight.
And, by all means, you tell them you love
them.
Life is not easy. Life with kids is surely a rough ride. And,
nobody – including myself – is perfect.
Raising someone else’s kids should be no different than raising
your own biological children. Moral of the story? It doesn’t matter who had the
darn kids – you raise them as if you did. You treat them as if they are
yours. And you love the heck out of them.
You know, one of the wisest women I know once told me that
you don’t ever love any kid differently, whether they are your own or your
stepchild or another child in your care. She said that each child deserves to
have unconditional love.
When I first fell into this role in my life, I had a hard
time believing that. Not that I didn’t think all children should be loved unconditionally,
but I felt that there is a certain piece of you that is bound to that child
when it is biological. Something that I wouldn’t know for sure, of course.
Perhaps I am wrong – I will leave that to all of you biological parents to
discuss.
But I have grown into the woman that I am knowing that the
love I have for the children in my life is not conditional. That there
is not possibly anything I would do more or less for them if they came from
me. I give them my all. Every day. Rain or shine. And, I do it because they
are mine. All three of them.
