“Um…Yeah, I’m his Mom!”

I know.  I know.  I am not the only person in a trans-racial family who has experienced this scenario!  I know I am not the only person who has to think before I speak back to strangers when asked this (or a variety of any other inappropriate questions).  I know that there will be a lifetime ahead of me to explain, defend, or even be dumbfounded by certain people, and I just have to get over it.  At this point, it just makes me laugh!  But here are a few scenarios that stick out!

Scene: Local Park

Three kids, clearly friends, but close in age to K!  We arrive and I let him go play.  I sit down on a bench to watch him (about 10 feet from where he is).  The mom/adult supervision of the other group stares at me and back at him as he is yelling, “Mommy, look at me!!!  I go on slide all by myself!!!”  I am clapping and cheering and telling him how proud I am of him!!!  Finally, I see her shifting in her seat and she leans over to say, “Oh I didn’t think you were his mother!  I mean, he is so dark!  I assumed you were his babysitter…or something!”  Now it’s at this point that I see K trying to “play” with the other kids (her “people”).  Before I can respond to her, I hear one of this kids comment on K’s skin color and say “Yucky!!!”  Again, before I can comprehend the scenario that’s happening on the playground, the mom continues, “I bet you aren’t his real Mom.  Are you like his stepmom?  So your husband is black, right?” 

Yes friends, I am in shock and awe at this point.  Do I slap her?  Not worth it!  Do I cuss her out?  Not worth it!  No… I just take a yoga breathe and think about the situation (Side note: I have been teaching K to do this when he gets frustrated and wants to throw a tantrum!  Take the yoga breathe baby!!!).  Not only is there ignorance happening in the adult zone, but there is racism happening on the recycled plastic jungle gym! 

My response to her was simple, “Actually, I don’t know who his Daddy is! (Her mouth dropped).  And yes, I am his real Mom!  And clearly your ignorance and bigotry is influencing the little people in your life.  You might want to deal with that!”  I stood up and went to K and asked him if he wanted to go on the swings!  He gladly jumped out of the wood chips, waved bye to them and ran off ahead of me while we played red light, green light!

Scene:  Target

Oh Target, you tempt me with your dollar bins and cute shoes.  You entice me with your food area and cheap triple feature movies, but you also house some crazies! 

Pushing K in the cart around Target and I am having him point out letters he sees and colors he recognizes.  He is talking up a storm and we are laughing, as usual.  Random shopper with her grandchild (I think/assume) says, “Well hello there!!!  Aren’t you a talker?”  I smile and instruct him to say thank you!  She seemed sweet enough…until, “You must get a lot of strange looks from people!”  I know what she means, but I want HER to say it out loud.  I respond with, “I am not sure what you mean?”  She guffaw’s, wants to say something but chooses not to and says, as she’s walking away, “Have a nice day!”  I scream back, “You too Ma’am!” with K saying, “See you later!!!”  In my mind, I am thinking, I sure hope we don’t see you later!

Non-laughable situations:

Urgent care doctor who wouldn’t even touch K

Urgent care nurse who kept asking K if I was his real mother and almost berating him by asking him the SAME question over and over again when I had an over 100 degree temp.

Parent at McDonald’s who grabbed her kid away from K and told her in a stern voice that she wasn’t allowed to play with those people.

Just to name a few! 

Cooper Jack Did It!

I have to give a disclaimer that really, Cooper Jack hasn’t done ANYTHING, but he has become K’s home/car/Nana and Grandpa’s house scapegoat.  Maybe I should back up and give the foundation to this! 

K goes to school full time.  He is friends with a boy who happens to be named Cooper Jack.  In normal 3 year old rough housing/playing way, I “think” that Cooper Jack may have hit K like one time during a space/laser/monster/car crash scenario, and now—he is K’s scapegoat!  

I noticed a pattern at home when K would break something or drop something.  His immediate response was “Cooper Jack did it!”  Ironically enough, I would have to remind him that Cooper Jack doesn’t live in our house and hasn’t even ever been here, so how could Cooper Jack have done it?  I would get the “I don’t know look” and consequences/punishment would ensue!    

Oh, but it gets better.  Sadly, it’s so funny when K tries to blame him that others have joined the “Cooper Jack did it” movement.  Now I blame Cooper Jack for things.  My dad blames Cooper Jack for things.  Poor kid!  He is getting blamed for things all over this town!  In all honesty, I have met him like seven times and is a sweet kid who is a normal, active 3 year old boy.  He and K are friends.  They play together and get along as well as any 3 year olds can.  So I know it isn’t fair to blame him, so for that I apologize.  Yet, even with the apology, I know you want to know what Cooper Jack has “done” according to K (this is the short list), right?

Broken the screen door (both upstairs and down)

Flushed the toilet more than once

Dropped his cup full of juice

Broke his adjustable waistband on his new shorts

Broke and entire box of brand new crayons in half

Ate my dinner while I was on the phone with his doctor

Threw a ball in the house that knocked something over

Said “potty talk” (as if I didn’t just hear him say the words)

Left his clothes out (one of his chores is to pick up his own clothes)

Dropped his plate of pizza on the floor and just left it there

Took our Easter card that we were supposed to give to Nana and Grandpa and hid it in his tent (I found it on Mother’s Day and gave it to them)

Spilled water on his shirt because he refused to use two hands

Moved the chlorine dispenser for our Jacuzzi and I couldn’t find it

Unscrewed the handles on the kitchen drawers

Poured water on the floor from the bathtub

So… as you can see, my son thinks that he is getting away with some things.  Oh, K, I so know your tricks!  Been there!  Tried that!  Go sit in the time out chair son!!!  Cooper Jack doesn’t live here!!!

It’s not a gun Mommy, it’s a laser!!!

Weren’t we all perfect moms before we became moms?  I had all these ideas and preconceived notions about what kind of mom I would be once I became a mom.  I had an opinion for every mom I saw in the street about how she SHOULD be dealing with her kid!!!  Obviously, I kept those opinions to myself, but I had ‘em alright, oh yes I did!  Awwww hindsight!  You are one of the wisest teachers, aren’t you?

I was adamantly opposed to any form of censorship (“When I am a mom, I will let my kid listen to anything!  He needs to know what’s out there!  It doesn’t matter if people cuss around him!” Yeah right!).  I was never going to allow my child to co-sleep with me (“Kids need to be in their own beds!  It’s not natural for them to sleep with you!”)!   I was never going to let my kids watch TV (while I was able to keep K from the grips of the TV for 9 months, I have since succumbed!).  I was never going to let my child act up in public (as if I could stop him).  I was never going to allow him to sass me (as if I could stop the initial sass.  After the first time, I take care of it, but still).  I was never going to let my child run into the street (have you seen how fast this kid is?)!  I was never…and the list goes on!  

But here we are 15 months into motherhood and really…my main battles are minimal but they are a lot of work!  First, I have been trying to keep people from saying potty talk (poo poo, caca, stupid, shut up, idiot, etc) around K so that he continues to know that it isn’t ok to say such things.  The next thing is that he listens. When his teachers say to stop something, he has the tendency to say something to the effect of, “Hell to the No!!!!”  What I want him to say is, “ok!” And finally, I need him to remember that we don’t allow guns in our household!  While I am not morally opposed to guns, I just don’t want him “shooting” people.  He has used his wily mind to get around this by making everything a laser!  Really, son, a laser that sounds like a gun!!!  Hmmmmmm.  Do you think that you have tricked me?  I think NOT!  

Note to K:  And by the way, just because I let you watch TV, you have Defcon 1 meltdowns in public that I can’t control or anticipate, you slept in bed with me for over a year and you are still struggling with listening to your teachers and other adults—I won’t tolerate the gun thing homie!  Not one bit!

Urgent Care and Nightmares

So, K has been fighting a cold (or allergies or heaven knows what).  After his teacher mentioned that she was concerned that his cough could be pneumonia, I immediately took him (back) to urgent care.  His doctor and I have been working together to use medicine as a last resort. We want his immune system to start fighting off stuff—building itself up, but with him having bronchitis a little over a month ago, I am hyper-vigilant.  

Well, we went to Urgent care and waited…and waited…and waited…and waited.  Two hours later, we were called in.  Now if you have a toddler (or any child from 18 months to 7 years really), 2 hours in a waiting room with only a matchbox car, a thing of goldfish, 1 book and 2 crayons is like a living HELL!!!  He did great and thank goodness we got a seat by the window so he could look out and comment on EVERY car that passed by!

But two hours later we finally saw the Doctor and after looking, awwwwwing, throat culturing, xraying, and whatnot—it’s just a cold (or allergies or he really didn’t really commit to anything)!  Yet while the lil one sleeps, he is also screaming in his sleep, “NO!  I don’t wanna see a doctor.  I don’t want a band-aid on my tongue.  I don’t want a stick on my teeth!”  Clearly, his experience in urgent care wasn’t the pain of waiting two hours; it was the seven minutes with the Doctor! 

Take Chances, Make Mistakes, Get Messy!!!

For those of you familiar with Miss Frizzle from the Magic School Bus, you know that this is her key phrase to her students when she wants them to step outside their comfort zone.  For the first several months that K was here, I rarely let him watch TV.  I was so focused on him learning English and making sure that I wasn’t ignoring signs of attachment disorder, that I didn’t want anything to cloud us building our family.  We did a lot of music, but hardly any TV.  Not only that, people know that I affectionately refer to the TV as the magic box or zombie box.  I don’t hate TV, I just know its effect on me, as an adult, so I can only imagine its hypnotic, spellbinding effect on youngsters…but getting back to my point!

So, now, fast forward to being a family for over a year and yes, friends, I allow K to watch TV.  It’s a treat for him, but I do allow it!  Interestingly enough, what I have found is that I am really interested in the shows I allow him to watch.  Not only that, I find it amazing what I have learned since I have become a mother.  It isn’t what you would think.  Yes, I have learned about being a little more patient.  Yes, I have learned about surviving on 2 hours of sleep (as a 38 year old, not as an 18 year old—big difference folks).  Yes, I have learned how to cook dinner, do the dishes, start 2 loads of laundry and still play a game with K all at the same time (or close to it).  Yes, I have realized that our world is a living piece of musical theatre.  Yes I have discovered why mom’s before me ALWAYS talk about their kids—why wouldn’t you?  But actually, through watching TV with K, what I have learned goes way beyond the “mom” stuff.  

I have learned ALL about Dinosaurs, the intestinal track, how the body heals itself, how best to sound out words, the cycle of water, which dinosaurs are related to “modern” day animals, the difference between an alligator and a crocodile (nope, didn’t know that before), and a whole lot of other fantastical things!  But as per my usual, I digress!!!  As I was saying, now that I let him watch TV, we only watch approved movies (basically that means movies that I can stand to sit through if necessary) and certain PBS shows about spelling, science, dinosaurs and yes, the Magic School Bus.  But this post isn’t supposed to be about the TV or what I let K watch.  It’s supposed to be about taking chances, making mistakes and getting messy!

What I have found is that Miss Frizzle is a frackin’ genius—these are truly words to live by.  I know that she says this to the kids to inspire them to think outside the box, but as an adult, with a mortgage, I know that I rarely think outside the box. Sure I have tattoos and body piercings.  I have been blessed with the opportunity to travel the world (not all of it, but the list is long).  I have eaten some shady food.  Hell, I have dated some shady men (when you look at it in the simplest terms—all of these things [taking chances, making mistakes, getting messy] could easily fall into the category of my dating life, right?).  I have worked in the prison system.  I have worked in the music industry.  I have worked in academia.  I have worked in a hair salon.  I have volunteered.  I have gone on missions trips.  I travelled half way across the world to become a Mama!  But really, I wouldn’t say that this is thinking outside the box.  I certainly wouldn’t classify those things as taking chance, making mistakes or getting messy (well, maybe some of the men were mistakes, but…)!  Clearly, I want to inspire K to do all of these things, but how can I do that if I am not doing any of them?!  Or am I!?

Oh, if only I could review all the things in my life that I have done that are indeed those 3 things, but really…when we think about it, what chances (lately) have we taken?  What mistakes have we made (and owned them)?  When was the last time that we REALLY got messy (yard work, housework, changing blow out diapers and gardening not included)?  Now, I am in no way projecting my own life onto you!  Believe me, I am preaching to myself.  Do I just continue my life as is?  Do I try to shift things to make sure that I take chances, make mistakes, AND get messy?  Is it enough to just take chances?  How about if I just make mistakes?  Hmmmm…  Getting messy shouldn’t be too hard, right?  Do I frown upon people who live in this cycle? Do I automatically call them frivolous and silly or flaky?  Am I just jealous?  Awwwww…if only I had the answers!  

So the moral is—let’s take chances, make mistakes, get messy!!!  Ok?!  Ok!!!

Daddy Envy

So K has recently become increasingly aware that he doesn’t have a Daddy!  It’s no secret, right?  I mean, we talk about how he doesn’t have a Daddy, but he has a Grandpa (whom he ADORES), he has Uncles and really cool dudes in his life who are there for him!  I have also made it a point to have African American men in his life (as well as gay, Latino, bi-racial, and the like) so that he sees that our life isn’t black or white but filled with love and color and differences and amazingness.   To make sure that it wasn’t just my kid, I took a poll amongst my single friends with kids and we are not alone, so at least that made me feel better.  So I can only conclude that his current/recent “daddy envy” is stemming from a desire to have what other children have.  He goes to school and sees the dad’s dropping off their kids!  He goes to church and sees the same thing.  Heck, he hangs out with me and my parents and he knows that Grandpa is Mommy’s daddy!  Even “Mommy” has a daddy!!! 

When I get the “Why doesn’t he have a daddy?” or “Where’s his daddy?”  I just use simple terms for these simple questions.  I either take the “well, I am not married” or I tackle it with, “Our family doesn’t have a daddy!”  It’s a tough gig explaining it to small children, but if only it were small children asking.  It’s strangers at the store, it’s people at his soccer, it’s random people who think he’s cute, come up to us and quickly say, “He must look like his Daddy!”  To that, I say, “I don’t know who his Daddy is!” and keep on walking leaving them with their jaw on the floor!  I know, I know, sarcasm will get me nowhere, but hey, shut your face stranger person!

So, would I like for my son to have a Dad?  Of course I would.  Would I like to have someone to help me?  HECK yes I would.  However, when the right man comes along, then that will be the time.  Until that time comes, we will be a family without a Dad and I am ok with that—and I know K will survive!!!  I am not obsessed with getting K a dad!  I will leave the obsessive “daddy” talk to the three year old and enjoy this ride!!!!  And what a ride it’s been so far!!!

Life Is a Song

I am ready to admit it.  I am honestly ready to shout it from the rooftops.  Some of you may already know.  Some of you may not.  Some of you may not even care!  But I have to say it—I am in love. 

That’s right!  I have fallen in love with Glee!!!  I have been a Gleek from the beginning, but now that I am a mother, my passion for it has escalated!!!  I have always been a fan of musical theatre.  One of my ALL TIME favorite movies is Singin’ in the Rain.  I have even taught K most of the lyrics to the Good Morning song from that movie as our Good Morning anthem!  It truly bonds us!  

But I often hear the argument from people who aren’t into shows like Glee or musical theatre that “life isn’t about breaking out in song!”  Well, now that I am a Mama to a 3 year old!  THE HECK IT ISN’T!  I joke with my friends and co-workers that I am constantly singing and breaking out in song.  With a 3 year old in the house, everything is a song.  He doesn’t care about lyrics. He doesn’t care about pitch.  He doesn’t care if I am off key!  He just LOVES that I sing stuff!  I sing a made up song when it’s time to take his allergy medicine.  I sing a “let’s get in the bath” song.  I sing a “it’s time for shoes” song when he’s fighting me on wearing his “slipslops” as opposed to “real” shoes.  I even sing a song for when we are about to shut the garage door and he wants to stay outside and play!  I sing about going to bed.  We have a nap time song.  We even have a “we have played long enough at the park” song.  No joke!  When I say that I sing pretty much everything, I am serious!  I don’t know about your household, but Team Williams busts out in song every chance we get!!!

Who Knew…

That bra straps could be used as reigns on a horse?

That lip liner was a spaceship?

That a flashlight could contain pure joy/entertainment for over an hour?

That a box could be reused as a hiding place?

That a metal lunchbox doubles as a drum?

That makeup brushes are drumsticks?

That a washcloth is a hat?

That shoes are mittens?

That a plate is a shield?

That the large French fries container from McDonald’s is a glove, hat, shoe, and/or bullhorn?

That just about anything long and cylindrical (pencil, pen, marker, stick, etc) is a laser?

That the best phone conversations ever could be had on a broken, no longer in service cell phone?

Clearly, I know NOTHING!