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I often think about the woman who brought him into the world ― verb: to give birth to. But in rare, holy moments like this, there is no label, and none would ever suffice. As he slept in my arms, I thought about labels and how the world tries to define us. He told Alexa to play “Rock A Bye Baby,” and I rocked him to sleep. No matter how tired I am, this is a request I never refuse. Shhhh.”Īs he drifted off, he opened his eyes and said, “ ROCK ME, POPPA.” Later that night, he put my face in his hands and whispered in my ear, “ It’s a butterfly. “I may not have the answer right away, but you can’t find the answer until you have discovered the question.” “ All questions are good questions,” I told him. I reminded him that he can ask me anything. This is where he is in the mother conversation right now. “I have a Poppa and a Nana and a Papi, and a Dee (his nanny) and a Mason (our dog and his best friend) and Rio and.” He then started in on a litany of his favorite people. “Noooo! You’re not my mommy, you’re my daddy.” This was the silliest thing he had ever heard. He looked at me as if I had just asked the stupidest question. “ I am making something special for someone special. He waved his hands as if conducting an orchestra. He grinned as if he had the world’s best secret and could barely contain it. When I asked him how he felt about it, his face lit up. I asked if he was learning about it at school. The other night at bedtime, I decided to ask him about the whole Mother’s Day thing. I am holding him, and we are surrounded by a cadre of beautiful women who showed up to witness us ― to mother over us.
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One of his (and my) favorite photos is from his adoption day. When I live in gratitude, I feel abundant when I live in lack, I feel lost. It’s not just a parenting choice, it’s actually a spiritual principle. In our home, I try to focus on what we have instead of dwelling on what we don’t. And despite all the motherly women in our life, he does not have a noun: female parent. Sure enough, according to Merriam-Webster, I am not and will never be his mother. I was reminded that no matter how much mothering I have done or will do ― society will never see me as his “mother.” He’s still young, so I’d let him ask questions instead of trying to introduce the concept of mommyness.” Then I got the best advice : “Follow his lead. It’s imperfect because it has genders (and not everyone has a gender) but it’s the way it is.” Mother’s Day celebrates all the moms, Father’s Day celebrates all the dads. I really love the way my friend and his two male partners talk about it to their 7-year-old daughter: “Families come in lots of different ways ― some have one dad, some have two moms, some have two dads and some have a mom and a dad. It’s a cute story, but it didn’t really answer my question. Spoiler alert: Both daddies end up crashing the Mother’s Day party at her school. This reminded me of the book “Stella Brings the Family,” which is about a little girl with two dads. One friend told me their school hosted a “mothers only” party that they hadn’t been invited to. We have a pretty unconventional social circle that includes a throuple with an adopted daughter, a mom raising three kids without a dad, and two gay dads with a toddler they welcomed through surrogacy. So, I embarked on a little kitchen-sink research. Then it hit me: I had no idea what my lead was going to be? “We will absolutely take your lead on this,” she said, trying to reassure me.
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Her pregnant pause told me the school hadn’t considered this and had no clue how to navigate these waters. I wanted to remind her that I’m queer and my son doesn’t have a mom. But after the email came in, I called the director. I don’t mind a little Jesus talk ― and my son is more than a little obsessed with the Mother of God (he calls her “Princess Mary”). (The school director is young, hip and impressively all tatted up.)
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Though it is part of the big, bad Church, it is an open-minded community. My son goes to a Catholic preschool in the heart of Boys Town in West Hollywood. When it comes to someone else defining our family, I don’t want any surprises. I am a solo dad of a 3 1/2-year-old, and as routine as it is to make cute gifts for Mom, in today’s world ― and in our little world ― it requires a little more thoughtfulness.