You know those moments when your logical mind tells you that something is trivial, yet your inner fierce advocate just won’t quiet down? Yeah, that’s me.
I’m well aware that I’m loved by my partner and our children. I understand that I hold significant value in our family dynamic. I play a pivotal role in keeping our household running smoothly—whether it’s preparing lunches, getting the kids settled for bed, trimming nails, helping with teeth brushing (except after they’ve had ice cream), managing laundry, and handling school drop-offs and pick-ups. I help with homework, teach valuable life lessons, and create cherished memories, all while nurturing unique bonds with each child. These acts, alongside my love for them, define my motherhood.
Sometimes, our kids refer to me as having “three moms” and even ask if they can call me “Mom.” They’ll request “the other Mommy” when I’m not around, or tell their friends, “I can’t do that; my mom says no,” even when the question arises about something they know isn’t appropriate. But when your name is “Nelle,” others often don’t comprehend that.
I can sit with an open heart and remind myself that what I have in my family is far more significant than what others perceive, yet my inner advocate still raises her voice.
She gets riled up when someone hears, “Nelle, can we play for five more minutes?” and assumes I’m just a babysitter or a nanny. (Admittedly, being labeled a nanny in the early days still stings.)
Her cheeks flush when I sign a permission slip or make a call to the school, only to find that my name doesn’t match our children’s or my partner’s, prompting them to verify if I’m authorized.
My advocate rolls her eyes when others question why I’d want to attend parent-teacher conferences or medical appointments. And she really gets riled when someone gifts our child an item of clothing with “Mommy Loves You” emblazoned on it.
Guess what? Nelle loves you too! But where are the shirts that say that?
Logically, I understand how ridiculous it would be to argue with my partner over a “Mommy’s Little Devil” shirt picked out for school the next day. It’s not that I want to deprive my partner, the biological mom, of the fun and whimsical moments that come with dressing our kids in silly apparel. It’s that I won’t ever have that chance.
I fully acknowledge the countless opportunities I have as “Nelle” that I am exceedingly grateful for. Truly. So, while these moments of righteous indignation are rare and fleeting, they do happen.
So, my dear children, in the years to come, if you decide to decorate your graduation cap with “Nelle Loves You,” I won’t stand in your way. My fierce advocate will cheer and celebrate louder than you can imagine. I’ll embarrass you just as I always have, in the way only a mom can.
“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” For more insights and stories, check out other posts on our blog, like this one about home insemination.
In summary, while titles such as “Mom” may not be what my children use for me, my role in their lives is irreplaceable and deeply cherished. I find great fulfillment in being their “Nelle,” and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.