To The Child I'm Raising Who Isn't Mine

I didn't plan or want to go into some type of parenthood at age 18. I've seen what it involves and how hard it is. I didn't want that. I wanted to enjoy my life without having to plan things that I wanted to do with people around you or any kid. It wasn't fair that, in order for me to be in a relationship that I wanted to be in I had to deal with you.

You never stopped crying. You were mean to me. You didn't listen and, God forbid, somebody make a loud sound around you. You became a terror when your mom wasn't around. You were not a good kid. The attachment you had to her was so strong that you couldn't function without her around. And then came the babysitting. That was hard for both of us.

I had been around and taken care of several kids before but you were something else. You were twice as stubborn as I was and you refused to give in. You would stand with your arms crossed totally defiant. If I wanted to do something with you during that time you would kick and scream unless it involved something that benefited you. I didn't think a kid at two years old could figure out how something benefited him but you sure did.

And then something changed, around the few months before you turned three you started acting like you liked me. You would go potty for me when you wouldn't for anyone else. I wouldn't have to change a single diaper if it was just me and you. You would go to bed for me but still scream and cry if anyone else tried to put you to bed like I did.

We found our niche with each other. Loud noises and certain textures were a no go but you loved lights and dinosaurs. Now it's construction trucks and play-doh. We are working on you being able to play by yourself some and doing a chore or two a day.

You still push your boundaries sometimes. You like to argue and boy do you love the word 'why.' We are still working on things. We still have our days. The days where you refuse to listen and you tell me you hate me. And as much as I want to pick my battles sometimes I can't because you thrive off of structure. If you don't have it you don't do well. But we make it and the next day is better and even if it's not we get through it.

I might've started out not wanting to be around you but now I love hanging out with you. You do your best to do what you're supposed to. I'm not Mom and I'm not Dad but I am Lindsey to you. And I love the fact that you include me in the parental roles. And that when you go somewhere you sometimes say that's where kids and mommies, and daddies, and Lindsey's go. I might not have given you the gift of life but life gave me the gift of you, Mr. Lennox.