A post about being a Bonus Adult in kids’ lives, and in praise of non-parents who are part of that child-raising village. Go have a read.


I never thought I would end up childless. I love kids. I always dreamed of having kids. As a younger person, I saw my future with a spouse and kids.  Never questioned that ideal.

I have neither. I tried. I talked about kids with my first spouse, and my second spouse (AKA Ex1) and I tried. For years. And every time we hit another speedbump I mourned for what was not going to be. But it wasn’t ever a *full* grief. Part of me was always secretly relieved.

I am way too introspective not to have puzzled over that. Part of it was a wariness about having kids with Ex1: we weren’t a good parenting match. I was nervous about raising kids with someone who to my mind didn’t seem to have a realistic understanding of how deep a commitment I envisioned child-rearing would be. I was also concerned about…

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