I know a lot of daddy bloggers and I enjoy their blogs a lot. Most of them are great writers, much better writers than I am, but something about the fact that they have their little clique bothers me - I don‘t know, maybe I‘m just jealous because I feel like an outsider looking in I'm like the foster kid at the family reunion - we‘re all part of the same family but I‘m a little different, a little left out. I don’t have any kids myself however, I can relate to the Daddy Blogger posts and I bet I could hold my own with most of the daddy bloggers as far as experiences with “the kids." I have a niece and a nephew that have been with me since the day they were born and who do you think has been there for them during the night when they are sick? Who do you think has changed their diapers when they were popped so bad you couldn‘t understand how something so small and human could make something so disgustingly gross. Who do you think has been thrown up on, crapped on, pissed on and has had food thrown at their face? It’s not their dads, it has been me - their uncle.

I remember one week-end when my nephew was at his father’s house and his grandmother called late in the night because he was having trouble breathing. Instead of taking him to the hospital emergency room they brought him home and I had to jump out of bed and rush him to the emergency room. I was hyperventilating myself because I was so scared and I was flying through red lights just trying to get him there - where was his dad? Sleeping because he had to work the next day. I called from the emergency room to let my boss know I was not going to be at work the next day.

I’m the one who has raced to the emergency room with a kid in the car who couldn’t breath and then I stayed the entire night sitting by his bedside holding his hand because he wanted me - not his dad. I don’t remember seeing either of their dads at the clinic when they were babies and I was there, holding them down so the nurse could give them their shots. I didn't see either of their dads there when I hugged them, comforting them and telling them that they would be ok. Who is the one that kisses boo-boos and makes them better. Who is the one that has to spray anti-bacterial stuff on their wounds and tell them that it’s going to hurt a little bit but it’s for the best? Who is the one that chases the monsters from the room at night? Who is the one that hunts aliens on a pretend planet that thrives in their imagination? It’s not their dads, it’s me - their uncle.

My nephew’s father thought it would be a good idea if he walked him to school one morning. Oh that’s just great - walking your son to school makes you a great father - whatever, but whose the one that takes off every year so he can be with him on his first day of school? Whose the one that goes to all the school functions and pays for the class photos? Whose the one trying to balance drinks, pizza and cupcakes for thirty students on his birthday - it’s me! Who’s the one going to the parent teacher night at school, checking his folder and looking at all the school projects he’s completed? Whose the one cheering him on at Karate class? Whose the one buying karate equipment and paying for belt tests? Whose the one watching with pride as he earns a new belt or a stripe on his old belt? whose the one that takes them to the park, the movies, out to eat? Whose the one that make sure that they are fed, clothed, and protected? I’m the one doing all those things a father should be doing. It’s like they say, anyone can father a child, but not everyone can be a dad.

Whose the one that has all the stories and memories of the kids growing up? I do, that’s who. I may not get blogger dad status and I may not even get a freakin’ father’s day card, but what I do get is the good-night hugs, the warrior faces at karate, the look in their eyes when they see their costumes for Halloween for the first time. I get to see them take their first steps and say their first words. I even get to see them make a mess of their first birthday cake - did their fathers see any of that - no, they didn’t. I get the hugs and kisses from the first day of school. I get the student of the month certificates, and I get the pure, unconditional love of two kids that don’t care if I’m a daddy blogger or not - Hell, they don’t even care if I blog at all. All they care about is that I’m there for them and for as long as I live - I will be there for them.