This Father’s Day, thanks to a Budweiser commercial honoring stepfathers that made me blotchy-red-face-snotty-nose cry when I saw it (and is still making me cry as I write this), I am thinking about stepfathers. The commercial features grown children acknowledging what amazing step fathers they have and asking their stepdads to be officially adopt them.

One woman asks her stepdad to walk her down the aisle (yes, I am aware fathers giving away brides is an antiquated practice rooted in misogyny – shut up, I’m crying!).

I dare you to remain dry eyed.

I have had two men in my life serve as stepfathers to my children, one who stepped up and one who did not. I am, perhaps obviously, still married to the one who has stepped up into his role as a father. My husband/editor has been a stepdad to my children for over a decade now and even my grown son admits that he is a solid guy and a great step dad [editor’s note: YAY!].

When my husband first started courting me, he well knew that you can’t have me if it is not right for my kids. He knew he was cute and funny and my best friend, but you can’t make a life with me without making my kids as much of a priority as I do. So, he set about trying to get my 9-year-old son on his side. It was not too difficult. He created a custom website in his honor, took him to Disney with the rest of the kids and showed up almost every day as a source of fun and reliability. He also showed every day that he loved and respected my son’s mom.

I think that is what really won him over.

Maybe it was Disney.

Hard to tell.

Either way, my daughter was a tougher challenge. On our first outing for them to get to know each other, we met up downtown and then continued to walk. When she realized he was walking with us, she turned to him and explained slowly and sternly: “You are not invited.”

Challenge accepted.

He ended up offering us hot chocolate, and he has been scrambling ever since to be a good and kind father, consistently giving her the message she is loved no matter what. My daughter did not make it easy for him in that moment or almost any moment since, but he shows up for her again and again and while she doesn’t like to admit it, especially to him, he is her favorite.

But here is the deal: that was the deal. I get that you want to be with me – good call. But, at this point (or that point) being with me means being with a mom. That is most definitely a defining characteristic and if you don’t love and accept my kids, it is not really me you want to be with. It is a Bizarro World universe version of me where I never reproduced and I spend my days doing something other than saying “What?”” every 15 minutes in response to the various cries of “Mom!” echoing through the house.

But guess what. If you love me for who I am, I am a mom. You may not realize it, but that is part of why you love me. It has shaped who I am and these small people that keep showing up in this house (uh, my kids), are a non-negotiable part of my life. Loving me and not my kids is like trying to suck the peanut butter from a Reese’s peanut butter cup without ever tasting the chocolate. Sure, I guess you could do it, but it is not really a sustainable practice, and why would you even try? What are you, some kind of sicko? Stop that.

Peanut butter and chocolate (and Moms and kids) belong together – love them together for who they are.

So, to the guys who are thinking of dating a single mom, if you are in it for anything less than the whole package, take note: Single-momming is hard enough and no one should have to raise an already presumably grown man on top of it. No one should have to make excuses for a grown man who is too selfish to realize children also need care, and they need their mom, and they don’t need you making either one of those things more difficult to obtain.

If you want to partner with a single mom, be prepared to step up. Be prepared to partner.
Be prepared to expand your heart and your family in ways you may never have imagined.
Be prepared to do the hard things and the caring things and the big things and the small things that make us family.
Be prepared to recognize what an honor it is to join the woman you love in loving and raising children.
Be prepared to be a Dad.

If you cannot do that, or you don’t want to do that, or you have something else preventing you from doing that – do the right thing and move the fuck on.
Do the kind thing and move the fuck on.
Do the human thing and move the fuck on.

And to those stepdads out there who have found it in their giant hearts to care deeply about another man’s child – I see you and I think you are the best kind of man. I see you and I know it is challenging and I know it is not your official responsibility and I know you manage to love so hard in spite of all of that. I see you and I just love you.

Especially my husband/editor.
Thank you from the very center of my being.

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