Lesbians can be great parents, too.

File this under “DUH.” At least where I’m concerned. Here’s the official word from a press release that made its way to my inbox:

The quality of life of 17-year-olds reared in lesbian-parent families did not differ from that of a matched group of adolescents who grew up in heterosexual-parent families, according to a new study published in the Journal of Developmental and Behavioral Pediatrics. “Consistently, over the past three decades, researchers have found that the daughters and sons of same-sex parents are psychologically well-adjusted. And now our new data demonstrate that 17-year-olds raised from birth by lesbian mothers are as happy as their peers,” said lead author Loes van Gelderen, MSc, University of Amsterdam.

The study included 78 17-year-olds with lesbian mothers, who were matched with adolescents in heterosexual-parent families based on gender, age, parental education and ethnic background. Each teen assigned a score of 1-10 to a series of statements, including “I feel I’m getting along with my parents/guardians” and ”I feel good about myself.” The study was conducted by the National Longitudinal Lesbian Family Study.

This is in line with several past findings, including a widely circulated 2010 study published in the Journal of Marriage and Family that said children raised by same-sex couples do as well as those raised by co-ed parents.

But it is not, as we know, in line with the ignorant opinions of certain politicians. (Let’s not get into that right now.)

I’m a new parent. I know there is still much to come in the way of challenge, frustration, and happiness. But I also know that Scott and I have promised Emerson, and ourselves, that we will be good parents. Great parents. The best parents he could hope to have. And it has nothing to do with being gay, straight or otherwise.

Yes, we are a unique family. But we are, first and foremost, a family. And we care about the same things most parents do. Will he be happy? Will he feel loved and supported and appreciated? Where will he go to school? What will he be when he grows up?

Will he call us every once in awhile and let us know where he is because it’s late and we’re worried sick and I can’t sit here all night in my bathrobe?

Different. But the same.