The boys are fraternal twins, fourteen, and not biologically mine. It doesn’t matter to me that we don’t share the same DNA. They’re our boys. I met them shortly after I met their father, and it didn’t take long for me to care for them as much as I cared for their dad. I unfortunately missed the sleepless nights, the every three hour feedings, the constant diaper changes, the first word, the first step, first birthday and the first day of kindergarten. I missed a lot, but I’ll hopefully be there for other firsts. First date, driver’s license, first car, prom, graduation, and anything you can imagine in between. I went from taking care of one, to taking care of three more.
The boys are exactly the opposite, one is quiet and reserved, and the other is the outspoken rebel. Both have a great sense of humor, charismatic personalities, and are extremely gifted when it comes to getting what they want. I will never get tired or bored around them, they’re so full of energy, it’s like being caught in the path of a tornado, chaotic, unpredictable, and exhilarating. There are days when it’s a challenge, for they’ve in a short time figured me out, I’m the pushover, but I can stand my ground when needed, like not caving on the bedtime … so much.
My attachment to them was almost immediate. It was uncontrollable. I had to make sure they had clean clothes, they ate dinner every night, they cleaned their rooms, told me where they were going, and I’m sure I tortured them with my daily question of how school went. Their dad works a different shift every six weeks so I was more than willing to share the responsibilities, when it came to the boys. I love caring for them. Then they completely ripped at my heart (good rip) with a single word, “mom.” I have close friends who’s children call me “Aunt” because I’ve been a part of their lives for so long ( that was a good rip too ) they think of me as family, but I had never been called the “M” word. My knees almost buckled underneath me.
I can’t possibly even begin to describe how and what I felt at the time. If I hadn’t turned away immediately after, they would have seen me cry. It’s an honor to have another person’s child think so highly of me that I had been called such a term of endearment. I still can’t help but tear up when I remember that first time. I may have missed a lot of their first times, but they gave me one of my own.
I loved these boys even before they called me “mom” I will always treat them as my own, I will never call them “steps” I think that label is cruel and demeaning, and it could affect the emotional bond a child can form with a “new parent”. As far as I’m concerned the only steps in their house are the ones leading to the basement and up to the master bedroom. When I met their father, I knew he had twin boys and they were a package deal, what I didn’t realize was how empty my life was. They may not be mine by birth, but DNA won’t stop me from trying my best everyday to live up to the name they’ve bestowed upon me, and that’s “mom.” My boys whom I love dearly are Dennis and Daniel.