A few days ago, when I was at the park with my two and half-year-old nephew, a pretty hot dad came over and asked me how old ‘my son’ was. Hesitating for a second I chose to respond without correcting him. Afterwards I realised at the age of twenty I could have taken this inquiry as quite an offense…do I really look like I’m old enough to the be the mother of a toddler? Maybe I’m dressing too old? Oh my gosh, am I getting wrinkles?
The thing is it didn’t bother me at all to be mistaken as my nephew’s mum. As an Aunty I’ve played a very important part in his life and upbringing. I’ve been there every step of the way (I was literally there for his first steps).
They say being an Aunty is all fun and none of the responsibility, but honestly I think Aunties need to be given a bit more credit. I take pride in being a very ‘hands on Aunty’ to my three nephews and one niece.
Since being promoted to Aunty I’ve been peed and vomited on too many times to count (you’d be amazed how easily vomit finds its way into your bra). I’ve rocked crying babies to sleep until my legs feel like lead, I’ve kissed bruised knees, read a thousand bedtime stories and wiped what I hope is chocolate off of dirty faces. My Instagram account is full of baby spam with the reoccurring hash tag #justanotherproudauntypost, and somehow all my conversations (even with the cute guy at uni) end up with me talking about my nephews and niece.
Just like a miniature sized best friend, we watch movies together (mostly Frozen). We dance together in my bedroom to Taylor Swift and we lie on my bed while he chats to me about bugs. We go to cafes together and order baby chinos. He thinks I’m beautiful when I’m not wearing any make-up and tells me he loves me while holding my hand.
Being an Aunty is the greatest blessing in my life. It’s taught me so much about motherhood and awoken inside of me a pure love I’ve never felt before. So next time I’m at the park and mistaken for a mum I’ll claim it again without any hesitation.
What do you love about being an Aunty?