Bonus Dad Day
“There should be a Bonus Dad Day. You deserve to have a day all to YOU, E.” I heard my twelve-year-old saying to my partner. Tears came into my eyes. What a sweet thing for him to say. And not just say it but mean it. “Awe, thanks, dude” was his reply as he let my son rest his head on his shoulder.
Four and one-half years ago I had no idea what a bonus dad even was. The thought of a stepdad, extra dad, bonus dad; they had one thing in common and that was to make me nauseous. I did not want anyone involved in with my kids. I was a single mom. I loved being a single mom and no one else was needed.
People would ask me all the time if I was going to remarry. The answer was no. Did I want to date? Nope. Was I lonely? Nope. I was the woman who had to fight with my coach until I understood that getting divorced wasn’t going to turn me into a trashy single mom desperate for a man’s attention. (Forgive me for my ignorance here).
Divorce is excruciating. Emotional. Devastating. Raw. Vulnerable. Exhausting. Most of us swear off relationships for good. Who wants to go through that again? I mean really.
And this is where you, my friends, found me over four years ago. Until he came along. Until my eyes and heart were opened to something I had never known or seen before. Until I sat awake an entire night on June 11, 2017 and realized that this person who had been so consistently keeping my attention for months, had somehow found his way into my heart.
We dated for eighteen months. My kids were none the wiser. We only saw each other when they were with their dad. We were slow. Deliberate. And one day, their dad told them that I was in a relationship. He was anxious to involve his new partner in their lives and wanted me to do the same. I wasn’t sure. To be honest, I was totally against it. But the kids knew about him, and they were so curious. They wanted to meet the mysterious “E.”
We met at a cool bowling alley. They laughed and asked questions. We went to dinner afterwards. My middle child stuck his hand in the queso bowl and proceeded to put his whole hand in his mouth to clean it off. Etienne wasn’t scared away. He laughed with them and asked them questions. They loved every second of it.
He saw them about once a month for six months. He casually and carefully created a relationship with each one of my three boys. They couldn’t wait until he came to visit them again. Then he spent the night. They thought that was pretty cool. Every other weekend they would beg him to come over and beg him to spend the night.
He carefully picked birthday gifts they would love and would write sweet, short inspirational words on the little cards he would attach. He bought new games that he thought they would enjoy and brought them with him for the weekend. We started having game nights.
When the pandemic hit, our time together became a little more intense. He was staying the entire weekend with us and over the fall and early winter, every single weekend. When Sunday afternoon rolled around, my two younger kids would get sad and beg him not to go back home! They cried every time he left. “We don’t get to see him enough,” they would say. “We want him to be here all the time.”
When shit hit the fan with their dad in the fall, it was E that they clung to. He would answer their FaceTime calls, phone calls, and every single text. He has spent endless hours rebounding basketballs, throwing footballs, and answering their incessant questions. The man who never wanted kids. The one whose friends are still shocked, four years later, that he is in a committed relationship and helping me raise my boys.
He held my boys when they were sad. He engaged their hearts when they needed a masculine connection. He has served as human bean bag during movie night when my very touchy twelve- and eight-year-old snuggle him at every angle.
He slaps my butt in the kitchen and tells my kids how beautiful their mom is. He praises my hard work and never lets it go unnoticed. He tells them if they are lucky, they will grow up and choose a partner as cool and beautiful as their mom. He helps do dishes, fold laundry, and plays endless rounds of Madden with the boys.
He shows up to every single game, tournament and play off that my boys have. Even when we have the weekend off and I beg him to stay home and not go, he says he wants to support them.
I literally never once asked him for anything regarding my children. I knew I had everything it took to raise them on my own and to do a good job. What has transpired, he has chosen on his own accord. How he has chosen to be with them is ALL HIM.
And ya’ll…….I’m not sure I’ve ever been more grateful for anything in my life. I think about everything they would be missing if I had stood my ground about not having anyone involved with my kids. Or if I had chosen to remain in Louisiana to raise my boys. Or if I hadn’t listened to my best friend and taken my reluctant butt to the dating scene.
We would have missed out on the best thing I could possibly imagine. A Bonus Dad. Someone to fill in the gaps. A real man. Another viewpoint of a how man should treat a woman. An example. A man who takes his responsibility to my boys as seriously as if they were his own. A man who chose to be a dad after 45 years of being committed to not being a dad. A man who loved me enough to open a small window of possibility which seems to have been flung wide open with love and generosity that sometimes I’m not sure what I did to deserve!
Happy Bonus Dad’s Day, EJoe. Our lives are forever more fun and exciting with you along for the ride!
Cheers to all of the dads; biological dads, adopted dads, stepdads, bonus dads; boyfriends who help; all of YOU! Happy Father’s Day!
Until Next Time,
