Doing It For The Kids
(Sarnia, ON, Canada)
You’ve heard the co-parenting stories... mom and dad get along after divorce, even bio mom and step mom, or bio dad and step dad... but what about the bio mom and the ex-almost-step-mom taking the kids to Disney together?
This is a photo of my ex-boyfriend’s kids, who I raised with him 50% of the time until we broke up in March, and their mom. You can’t see my outfit but we all have matching shirts that Becca planned.
I’ve always had a ton of respect for Becca. From very early on in my relationship with the kids’ father, I saw how much love the kids had for her and how hard she worked to do everything she could for them as a mother. She is without a doubt the most important person in their lives.
But it wasn’t until this trip that I became genuinely amazed by her and spent the entire two weeks reminding the kids that their mommy is basically Superwoman. She does so much. She’s so patient, organized, constantly putting others before herself, trying to play 10 different roles at once and still keep a smile on to make sure the kids are having fun.
What amazes me even more than who she is as a mother, is the friend she became to me after the kids’ dad and I broke up. She had every right to keep the kids from me but she did exactly the opposite. She’s given me a place to stay when I’ve had nowhere to go, given me her van to drive all the way to Kitchener or to take the kids for day outings to give her a break, even allows my family to still have a relationship with the kids.
I still smile thinking about our drive to the airport when we asked Wayne who Aubrey was to him, and he said “sister.” We asked who Becca was and he said “mommy.” We asked who Yama was and he said “grandma.” When it got to me, he said “ummm…another kind of mommy!” And we all laughed.
Or when Becca and I were sitting at the edge of the pool in Florida watching the kids go up and down the water slide, and we heard a squeal coming down the tube and simultaneously went “I think that’s our kid.”
Or how at the end of every 16-hour park day we’d get back to the hotel, get the strollers into the air conditioned rooms, give each other a high five and flop down on the beds because we finally made it... then do it all over again the next day.
The love I have for these two little kids is the same intense love I can’t wait to smother my own children with one day. That kind of passion doesn’t just go away because my romantic relationship with their father didn’t work out.
It doesn’t matter how we became family, that’s what we are now and it’s the only “label” we need.