I once vowed to remain a single mother rather than introduce a string of men to my children—sons whose biological father vanished long ago, leaving behind feeble excuses for his absence.
When I finally allowed my boys to meet Alex, it felt like the right choice. He embodied the qualities I hoped they would emulate as they grew up.
I never set out to find a father figure for them. While stores like Target offer plenty, a “Dad-in-a-Box” isn’t one of them. Yet, I count myself fortunate to have found Alex.
I promised myself I would never compromise my children’s well-being for the sake of a romantic partner or my own fears of solitude—surrounded by countless cats, cheap wine, and well-worn romance novels. (Pro tip: to avoid becoming the cat lady, don’t own any cats.) Ultimately, I discovered one of the good guys.
To all the stepfathers, surrogate fathers, foster dads, and men who step in to raise kids who aren’t theirs, thank you. You owe them nothing, apart from your love for their mother, yet we appreciate you every single day—even if we forget to express it amidst the chaos of life.
Thank you for caring about their posture at the dinner table and for insisting they don’t nap like school is a monumental task. Thank you for being frustrated by half-eaten meals from kids who claim to be full yet can devour a gallon of ice cream shortly after. Your reminders to “finish your dinner” resonate more than we can say.
Thank you for being unbothered by the nudity of small boys who prefer to ditch clothes but detest bath time more. It’s impressive how quickly a little one can cover up when they sense a mom is nearby.
Thank you for recognizing Mother’s Day with flowers, chocolates, and giving us a breather from the constant clinginess of little ones. Could we make that happen more often?
Thank you for distinguishing between a genuine burp and a forced one, either stopping the antics or showing them how it’s done when the mood strikes.
Thank you for upholding our household rules. Your stricter approach might be necessary when we can’t see the forest for the trees.
Thank you for encouraging us to relax our grip on our kids and grant them a bit more freedom. As their mothers, we are often filled with fear about the world they inhabit.
Thank you for caring about their development into strong individuals who grasp concepts of right and wrong. Your assertion that “No means no” carries weight, even in the context of breaking up a wrestling match. They may not grasp the significance yet, but we do.
Thank you for being patient with the quieter one, allowing him to get accustomed to your presence. He truly does have affection for you.
Thank you for the kisses you sneak on top of their heads when they’re oblivious. Thank you for letting them hug you tightly whenever they feel the urge.
Thank you for the laughter, the silly voices, and the playful moments that only a father can provide. Thank you for reading them bedtime stories, even when your voice trembles from the novelty of the experience.
Thank you for being a better father to them than their own. They might not refer to you as “Dad”—yet—but you are. Complete with dad jokes, puns, and the quintessential dad bod (don’t worry, my friend, you’ve got it, regardless of your physique).
My boys have no clue how fortunate they are that “Mr. Alex” chose to embrace our family, despite his past experiences that once made him swear he’d never raise another man’s child again. He recognized something special in us, took a courageous step into the unknown, and partnered with a woman who vowed never to jeopardize her children’s happiness for any man. My appreciation for him is boundless—even when I wish he and the boys would stop with all that incessant farting.
Thank you, and Happy Father’s Day!