Family, Without Labels or Definitions

“Family” can be difficult to define. Is it the people with whom you share a biological makeup? Is it the people with whom you have the strongest emotional connection? Is it the people that you share a home with? The people you see everyday?

The questionable need we have to label everything can make this area a little foggy. It can also create unnecessary judgment, and insecurity.

I got married three weeks after my 23rd birthday. In hindsight, it seems a very silly thing to do. I know quite a few 23-year-olds who can’t make a sandwich, never mind make an adult life. Very soon after that my two sons arrived in rapid succession. The combination of immaturity, ever-increasing responsibility, career growth and recognizing how little we had in common, made things unravel pretty quickly. So by my 28th birthday, after two small children, living in four different states and having four different jobs, I was moving myself and two tiny sons back home to Norwood.

We moved back into my childhood home with my mom and sister. Their dad also moved to Norwood. They see him all the time. They always have. There were never any stereotypical plate-throwing or screaming matches. The things that made an adult relationship unworkable are completely unrelated to how we feel about our children. And at some point we made the choice to never let our differences be part of how our children experienced their parents. For the boys, their mom and dad are “Mom and Dad.” End of story. There was no need to create animosity or further the divide. Flexibility and empathy are the norm in how I parent. I make decisions based on how it will affect my kids. I always stop and ask myself how an extra “sleep-over” or few days at the beach will be perceived by them as opposed to how it will be perceived by me. I have no magic formula. I have my family, and what works for us. I have made it habit to put aside my own personal irritation and let my kids have as much access to “family” as they crave. It’s their life after all. I was in a relationship that, as an adult, I realized did not work. It didn’t make anybody happy, so I moved on from that. However, the boys did not choose that. They have equal love for both sides of that story, so they should have equal opportunity.

I then got very lucky, and when I was much older and mildly wiser reconnected with and married Darrin. We have a beautiful daughter. We are ridiculously happy. The boys are ridiculously happy. The baby is ridiculously happy. Life is good for this family.

And it is mine. My family. But at times, I find myself confronted with awkward and rude questions. I find people (nobody in this house) trying to appropriately “label“ our roles and us. And it makes me very angry.

Recently I was told that somebody was “clarifying” my family for another person. They pointed out that Darrin was not a “parent” to the boys; he was a  “step-father.” They also thought it should be clarified that Grace was a “half-sister” not a “sister” to the boys. Ben actually asked me that once right after Grace was born. He was in third grade and one of his classmates thought he should let Ben know that his tiny little newborn sister was only “half” a sister.

Ben had never heard the term before, and that was no accident. 

Grace is our daughter. She is the boys’ sister. Not only do they share a mom, they share a home and a life. She wakes up and runs into their rooms saying, “Hi brothers!” She messes with their stuff. She steals the remote, and sits on top of them when they are lounging in the living room. They carry her around and read her stories. On Christmas morning she sat in her new pink car and bossed Ben around, making him open all of her presents. On Mother’s Day, Max spent an hour jumping in an out of a huge cardboard box to make her laugh.

We are a happy, loving family, and not only “half” of the time.

Words like “step” and “half” and even “ex” are there to create separation. That is not at all how my family chooses to live. I would never introduce the boys’ dad as my “ex” anything. He is the boys' father. I tend to focus on who we are, as opposed to who we are not. The boys’ father, Jeff, lives walking distance from us. He is a fun and loving father. People always tell me that they saw him and the boys at Father Mac's playing baseball or in their driveway shooting hoops. I often feel like they are either surprised or defending him. I am well aware of their activities. And I am not surprised. The boys and their dad just love each other, and have a great time together. He, like all good parents, keeps his kids active and safe. It’s not easy for any parent who has to go days at a time without their children, but it does help knowing that the person they are with loves them as fiercely as you do.

Darrin wakes up in the middle of the night and changes sheets and gets cold face cloths no matter who has the flu. He wrestles on the living room floor, he checks homework, he plays street hockey in the driveway, and he cheers loudly at baseball and basketball and floor hockey games. He goes to art shows and concerts, and graduations and is filled with pride and love just like every other parent in the room. He wakes up early with Ben, and makes pancakes and waffles on weekend mornings. He is funny, and protective, and loving, and supportive. He is an amazing father. That’s the label he gets from me, “amazing.” Not “step.” And I can give whatever label I choose. So can the boys. We get that awkward question a lot: “What do the boys call Darrin?” It is our family and they can call him “Santa Claus” if we so choose. But if you are interested, they call him “D” or “Darrin.” That is his name after all.

People ask for clarification all the time. “Is he your son or your step-son?” We refer to our family as “our three beautiful children.”

Should a family who adopts their children refer to their children as “my adopted children?” Most people couldn’t imagine saying anything so hurtful or offensive to parents who adopt children, but parents who are lucky enough to get their family along with their spouse are faced with that type of judgment all of the time. 

So what is it that makes a “family” legitimate? Is it sharing a name? A home? DNA?

If a person went to Vegas, had one too many pina coladas and married her Blackjack dealer, is that really family? They are married. How about a person who has lived with their longtime love for 20 years, but never bothered to have a wedding? They share a day-to-day life, a home, holidays. Who is “real” family, the blackjack dealing “husband” or the long-time love? Does a piece of paper create family or does love? 

There are people with whom we share genealogy. We might look like them, sound like them, and even have similar inherent talents. Genealogy is definitely the most common way to create family members - but is that enough? Are you connected to siblings or cousins, or grandparents because of your bloodline or because of your shared experience? I know quite a few people who have no real emotional connection to their siblings. Whether it is age or geography, or just not really having much in common, there are people who just don’t have that connection. But they will have a friend that they describe as “like a brother.”

I have two sets of family friends who I consider family. There are 11 children total. We spent vacations, and holidays, and long summer afternoons together. We had sleepovers, and movie nights, and sledding expeditions. I can go years without seeing them, but when we are together, we laugh and hug, and reminisce. We have danced at each other’s weddings and held each other’s babies. We have instant, strong and permanent connections. We refer to each other as “fousins” (faux-cousins). And I consider them my family. They are the people with whom I shared my childhood. They are the people I want to tell when I have good news. They are the stars in many of my fondest memories. They are my family.

One in every two American marriages will end in divorce. The age of marriage in the United Sates has been steadily rising over the past decade. There are more unmarried couples living together now than at any other time in American history. There are also more single mothers now than ever before. These cultural trends will undoubtedly lead to more and more “non-traditional” families. So, instead of focusing on what “family” used to mean consider that the shift is positive. Consider that family are the people with whom you share your life. Family are the people who love you and support you and take care of you. Family are the people who make you laugh, and make your life worth living. Forget the expression “You can’t choose your family” because fact of the matter is, you can. You chose your spouse, choose the rest. Choose to love and care for and respect the people that you are lucky enough to have in your life.

Family is fluid. Family has the power to repair, and recreate, and regenerate. Through births, and deaths, and marriage, and adoption, family will shift. Instead of getting caught up in labels, get caught up in the ride. Get caught up in the love and energy.

And if you personally feel that you prefer a nuclear, traditional, well-defined family, then good for you. But please live that life, and let others be free to live theirs. Don’t feel that you have the need, or the right to judge, label, or project your definition of family onto anyone other than yourself.

There is a sign over my fireplace that reads, “It is Never Too Late to Live Happily Ever After.” Darrin and I used that phrase on our wedding invitation. We opened our lives and our hearts to each other, and promised our three children that we would always love them and take care of them. We didn’t provide a set of parameters or restrictions to that promise. We won’t only “half” love any of them, or put a “step” between our support and care. We are a family. And we are a happy family. I wish the same for any of you… no matter how it is that you are able to create it.