A whole bucketful of awesome.

Our daughter came home from a weekend away with her “grandma” and “sister,” and was pretty upset. She proceeded to tell me how they, her extended family, thought that we, her live-in family, were horrific people.

blank stare.

And they shared this with her with no compunction or remorse or the slightest regard for her feelings or level of comfort.

First: Understand that I am not our daughter’s biological mother. My partner and I are her guardians. But being that the English language is limited in it’s ability to convey a word that defines our relationship without sterilizing it, I prefer the term, “daughter” to “ward.” Because for me, that is what she has become: our daughter.

Second: Our daughter lived with her “grandma” (who is not her biological grandmother, but her great-aunt) and “sister” (who is not her biological sister, but a second cousin) from the ages of 9 through 16. At 16 her “grandma,” prone to verbal abuse, kicked her out of the house for the massive transgression of leaving a wet towel on the floor.

…ahem.

Third: Our daughter then spent the next 5 months “living with” her biological mother, who works nights, parties late and could never seem to deliver her to school on time. Our daughter ran ragged— slept on friends’ couches, partied it up, got in with a bad crowd and then a worse one. She still attended school but not…very…well. After 5 months of us offering our home, this daughter (who is actually our oldest daughter’s best friend) finally stoked up enough courage to ask her biological mom if she could come and live in our home. After much debate and tears between the two, her biological mom relented. And thus I have much respect for her biological mom. It takes a great deal of effort and self-reflection to realize that maybe one is just not cut out for the daily rigors of parenting. And it is even harder for some to acknowledge, let alone ask, for the help they need. We offered. She accepted. We rejoiced.

So here we are. Our daughter, visibly upset and heartbroken, relating the discussion that stained her otherwise happy weekend.

Our daughter was told by these people that we could never love her. That we were irresponsible. That we could never take care of her in the way she needed .My husband and I were failures and so was she, for choosing to live with us.

Ouch. Really. I mean OUCH.

What makes us so horrible?

I somehow knew you’d ask that. And well, brace yourselves, because it’s time for a massive confession:

Sometimes I am gassy.

That’s actually neither here nor there— I just felt like sharing.

No, actually, part of the issue is my hub and I are “reproductively irresponsible.” He and I preside over a herd of 6 kids. We just kept poppin’ out them babies. And having that many kids means we cannot love any of our children enough, or give them what they need emotionally. You know. Because there are so many of them.

And how could we possibly love a non-blood-related child as much?

Just for your edification? I’m awesome and all, but I didn’t birth no 6 kids. I just don’t have the womb for it.

We’re actually parents to a blended family of 6 kids. He has 3, I have 3, and apparently according to algebra or math or something— that makes a whole fucking bunch of kids.

So in a way they are right: that is one huge mass of kids. No denying it.

But our ability to love them and provide for them? Pretty fucking strong. Here’s how i see it: I would die for my kids. Of course I would. But I would also kill for them, and suffer any undue amount of hardship— without a backwards glance.

I tried to convey this to our newest family member, how she is loved and cherished and important— how she is centrally important in her own awesome way to our crazy blended family as a whole. We adore her, as we do all our children.

And then it happened.

She paused, took a breath, and let it go. The bigger issue in her extended family’s mind: My husband and I are horrific human beings and responsible for the downfall of society because… please prepare to hate us…

We are liberals.

Yes. Dirty (well, we bathe), stinking (pretty regularly, actually) liberals.

The nut graph: Our political beliefs are apparently so vile and reprehensible that her extended family’s prevailing thought is that sleeping on a couch, doing drugs with strangers, potentially failing out of high school and being emotionally abused offers far more out of life than being raised by, loved by, and held to a higher standard— by us liberals.

I offer this tidbit to others because… well… its pure crazy essence is bugging the holy living crap out of me.

Honestly: FTMFW?