Aunt Rob is here to save the day

Being An Aunt Has Changed My View On Having Kids

I am the single, traveling Aunt, and I'm living for it!

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Every time someone asks me if I like kids, I have to pause and say: "It depends."

Are we talking about your kids? Are we talking about the small children screaming at the doctor's office? Or are we talking about the three precious angels that call me "Aunt Robin?"

Being the baby of my rather large family, I've watched others grow as I did, but being an Aunt has taught me a whole different kind of growth, love and carefulness without having to be a caregiver or mother. Before, I would babysit and would make the babies at the grocery store smile, but I would also be that person who, when hearing a screaming baby would say, "someone better get that baby."

There is constant growth happening within my family these days, so I am experiencing pregnancy and child birth and newborns all while also having a 19-month-old niece and a 7-year-old niece. I am learning hormones differ with each mother, so pregnancy can be beautiful or very scary.

I am watching new mothers form and returning mothers with a family of four leave with a family of five. I'm learning to be cautious these days about who touches the baby, considering most of my family members had to get a vaccine to hold the child.

Also, everyone should vaccinate their baby—don't be dumb. If you don't, you better pray you don't get caught when your un-vaccinated kid gets mine sick.

I became an Aunt in 2011 when my first niece Paytyn was born. I was only about 14-years-old, so my duties were slim to none, except for the occasional diaper change or late night walk until she fell asleep. At the time, I had no motherly instincts, so when I held her for the first time I was incredibly nervous and ended up only having her for five minutes.

As she grows, my care for her just keeps increasing by making sure she's taken care of, happy and safe. Anytime I see a small child now, I comment on it. I talk in this horrible baby voice, and I creep myself out, honestly. The fact that I now notice the kids in my life and want to make them smile lets me know my cold hearts warms for something.

To see me as a mother is to look 10 years into the future.

That above statement has just recently changed from 'No kids whatsoever' to 'Yes, I'll have kids, just not anytime soon.' I can picture a mini-me running around; I just can't picture their other half yet.

Watching my girls (my nieces) grow has inspired me to be more of a role model. I know they look up to me, more so now because they're getting older. I want to be the hard-working Aunt that goes to random places and brings home gifts—I'm working towards being her.

The love, time and little words I receive from my nieces mean everything to me. I am my 19-month-old niece's God-mother, so I feel an even bigger responsibility to hold her to the moral standard of our religious background, causing me to be more dedicated. Win-win.

Raegan Christine and I share many things: initials, middle name, sassy attitude, hairstyle. My nephew, Baby Jax, isn't even a month old yet but looks and acts so much like my brother! I'm so in love with him and my brother's family.

Being an Aunt has taught me to be a "slight parent," which is merely just being an example to them as they grow. I know they will be everything and more in their life; I just can't wait to watch it happen! It's shown me the love I know I'll have for my kids one day, the undying passion for them to have everything their hearts desire and for them to be as happy as humanly possible.

I have a long life to live and kids will follow, but for right now, I am Aunt Robin: the college student who loves her nieces to death!

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3 Reasons Why Step Dads Are Super Dads

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I often hear a lot of people complaining about their step-parents and wondering why they think that they have any authority over them. Although I know that everyone has different situations, I will be the first to admit that I am beyond blessed to have a step dad. Yep, I said it. My life wouldn't be the same that it is not without him in it. Let me tell you why I think step dads are the greatest things since sliced bread.

1. They will do anything for you, literally.

My stepdad has done any and every thing for me. From when I was little until now. He was and still is my go-to. If I was hungry, he would get me food. If something was broken, he would fix it. If I wanted something, he would normally always find a way to get it. He didn't spoil me (just sometimes), but he would make sure that I was always taken care of.

SEE ALSO: The Thank You That Step-Parents Deserve

2. Life lessons.

Yup, the tough one. My stepdad has taught me things that I would have never figured out on my own. He has stood beside me through every mistake. He has been there to pick me up when I am down. My stepdad is like the book of knowledge: crazy hormonal teenage edition. Boy problems? He would probably make me feel better. He just always seemed to know what to say. I think that the most important lesson that I have learned from my stepdad is: to never give up. My stepdad has been through three cycles of leukemia. He is now in remission, yay!! But, I never heard him complain. I never heard him worry and I never saw him feeling sorry for himself. Through you, I found strength.

3. He loved me as his own.

The big one, the one that may seem impossible to some step parents. My stepdad is not actually my stepdad, but rather my dad. I will never have enough words to explain how grateful I am for this man, which is why I am attempting to write this right now. It takes a special kind of human to love another as if they are their own. There had never been times where I didn't think that my dad wouldn't be there for me. It was like I always knew he would be. He introduces me as his daughter, and he is my dad. I wouldn't have it any other way. You were able to show me what family is.

So, dad... thanks. Thanks for being you. Thanks for being awesome. Thanks for being strong. Thanks for loving me. Thanks for loving my mom. Thanks for giving me a wonderful little sister. Thanks for being someone that I can count on. Thanks for being my dad.

I love you!

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Batter Up

Because someone needed to teach her rotten boyfriend a lesson about how to treat a woman.

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I have this memory from when I was younger,

I must have been six, maybe seven? An age

When you can remember, but not quite

Understand. I remember the landline

Ringing sometime in the middle

Of the night in my grandmother's small,

But adequate house. I had been sleeping,

Tucked under a shield of satin covers,

My grandmother next to me, blanketless,

And stiff, on the very edge of the queen mattress

Like she was anticipating some sort of disaster.

It wasn't the phone that pulled me from my sleep,

It was my grandmother's instant jerk, her eyes

Flipping open quicker than a light switch,

The mattress springing back up, adjusting

To the new lightness as she fled the room. My waking

Was soft like a song. Slow and humane.

My eyes adjusting to the dark, my ears absorbing the ringing,

My mind reminding itself that I was at my grandmother's house.


Then, the ringing stopped;

Abrupt, like a disarmed fire alarm.

It was just a drill, I thought.

But, then I heard the mumbling

From behind the door, panicked mumbling.

Rapid, like gunfire. My grandmother's Rs

Rolling down the hallway and under the door crack.

She only spoke Spanish when she was angry.


The call ended, my grandmother returned to the room,

Wrapped me in a blanket, and carried me into the night.

She buckled me into the backseat of her Toyota and said,

We were going to Auntie Mandy's house because someone

Needed to teach her rotten boyfriend a lesson about how to treat

A woman.


When we arrived at the house, we found the front door

Wide open, the house lights spilling out onto the porch.

A truck, I had seen once before, was parked a foot away

From the front door, aggressive. The truck had trampled

Over the dandelions and daisies, which lay wounded

In the front yard. A scene that begged for investigation.


My grandmother told me to stay put in my seat.

I watched as she walked to the back of the car, her normally pretty

Face turned straight, looked masculine. I watched as she pulled

Something wooden out of her trunk, then in her feline walk,

Approached the house. She turned to me, and I saw the

Baseball bat, immense in her female hands.


I slouched in my seat, the window above my head.

I never saw her go into the house.


I don't remember how long I sat,

Until the red and blue lights came.

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