My boyfriend and I have been together for almost 8 years and he has helped me raise all three of my kids . He taught them how to ride their bikes, how to rollerblade; and assisted them in building several kick-ass volcanos for Science Lab. He also enforces chores, doles out "consequences" when appropriate, and is all-too-often the target of tweenage, hormone-fueled frustrations that rage under our roof. Yet, nobody thinks of him as their dad.
When my kids' friends come over to our house they ask, "Is that your dad?" and my kids always say "No. That's Scott." And you know what? I feel a little bad for him every time they do. Not because they should call him Dad - we both agree on that. They already have a dad they see on Sundays and for dinner once a week. But after giving up eight years of his own life to be whined at, puked on, often complained to - and giving up his only chance to ever have his own kids in order to raise mine with me, he deserves to be called something more than "just Scott."
he takes them for frozen yogurt with extra toppings when they lose soccer games.
He goes to the park to play soccer, he was there to talk my son through his first broken heart