I was talking to a soon-to-be-50-and-childless friend the other day, and she mentioned that she'd moved back to Missouri from Montana after her sister asked her to come back -- because she wanted her to be an aunt to her children.

To BE an aunt.

It got me thinking -- what is the role of aunt? What role do we play in our siblings' kids' lives?

I remember my aunts watching out for me. They seemed glamorous, mostly because I didn't see them when they weren't dressed in real clothes. And they wore make-up and sometimes high heels, which was totally awesome. They invited me into adult conversations and celebrated my life with me with a unique third-party acceptance so vital to a growing girl. I adore my aunts.

I am aunt to fifteen kids on my husband's side. I became their aunt when I married my husband, but I didn't realize I was their aunt until one day when I was taking them to the park, and my then-five-year-old niece took my hand so trustingly. She knew I was now a Trusted Adult in her life, one who would throw myself in front of a bus for her. It did something to me -- it changed my perspective.

The mommy and family category here at BlogHer is most often read by mommies and grandmommies, but it's really for everyone who's part of a family.

There's an amazing photo montage called They Played Aunt by April that you should really see. My favorite caption:

They always incorporated lots of difficult tricks that only the aunts were able to do and the whole world was amazed by their abilities.

Our own Suzanne extols the virtues of auntdom:

I have had the honorary role of an aunt. I discovered that I like it a lot. Basically, I can come over, her sons are excited to see me, and we can play for a little while. Then I can go home, relax, and stare blankly at the TV while Alex potty trains her sons or gives them bathes or fights with them to stop giving scraps to the dog. If I want to spoil her kids, I have a bit more discretionary income to do so since I don't have to pay for their basic necessities, and no one ever gets mad at an aunt for treating her nephews to things. Sure, I do worry about them, but really, I get all the benefits of hanging out with kids and significantly fewer of the headaches. It's awesome. I love being a part of their lives, and I hope that as they get older, I can be a trusted adult to help them out in both good and tough times.

"Aunt" is a special role, one that seems to smack of food, as most of the searches I did revealed so-and-so's recipes. Why is it our female relatives remind us mostly of food? But I loved foodie Clotilde's of Chocolate and Zucchini's decision to become official cake-baker for her nephew:

I was an aunt, and not just one in a dozen, either: that baby's one and only aunt.

This unique position comes with great responsibility. Obviously I plan to be the really cool aunt, not the one with the prickly chin and the funny smell, and my strategy includes volunteering as the official birthday cake baker.

My nieces and nephews realize I never bring the good food. I bring the wine. But I love to watch them grow into incredible people, three of whom have reached technical adulthood. I hope they know I remember holding them, kissing them, sledding with them, asking them about their lives. I hope they love me as much as I love them. This post is dedicated to my nieces and nephews, the whole lot of you.