One Mom's Letter to the World

"It's okay for you to think he's cute, but... You wouldn't actually go out with him, right?  He's white!  And you're not.  I'm not racist or anything.  That's just weird!"

"I could never adopt because I think it would be impossible to love the adopted kid as much as a real kid.  I mean, I know you're adopted and all, but you know what I mean, right?"

"At least I wasn't taken away from my parents like you were."

"Your mom just adopted you because she felt sorry for you."

"WHAT?!  Your mom is WHITE?!  How??""

"Hmmm.  I thought African American people were supposed to be good at sports."

"Why would your parents want to adopt instead of having real kids?  Can they not have kids of their own?"

"My dad isn't racist.  He just told me I can't ever date black boys because he doesn't trust them.  But it's okay if I'm friends with you!  You're a girl!  It's different.  So it's not that big of a deal that you're black.  We can still like hang out and stuff!"

"So.  Did your first parents just not want you, or what?"



Dear World,

Sometimes you say some pretty ignorant things.

Sincerely,
The momma of some pretty amazing kids who are frequently told lots of un-amazing things

P.S. I don't know what having biological kids is like.  I never plan to.  (Seriously, people.  Our house is at maximum capacity.  My stress level is, too.)  But I know I would give my life to protect my kids, and I can't imagine a love any greater than that.  I'd say that makes me a "real" mom of "real" kids.

P.P.S.  I always encourage my kids to walk away:  "Fighting isn't the answer. You're better than that.  We always treat everyone - even people we don't like - with respect.  Just walk away."  ... That sort of thing.  

Unless it's an ignorant comment  like the ones listed above.  Then my instructions are:  "Fighting isn't the answer. You're better than that.  We always treat everyone - even people who we don't like - with respect.  BUT, while you're walking away, if you want to think in your head 'My parents chose me. They begged for me;  they fought to adopt me.  Your parents were stuck with you'... I'm okay with that."

Perhaps it's not the best motherly advice.  But no one's perfect, right?

Wait... I'm Really Having to Say This?!

Oh, the joys of parenting.  Sometimes, you just gaze at your children and thank the good Lord above for your precious little ones.

And sometimes you wonder how the heck they make it through the day in one piece.

Today, as my oldest son was giving the roof of our car a quick kiss, my husband leaned over and said, "We really need to make a list of these moments."  You know, the moments that you're simultaneously thinking "Wait... I'm really having to say this?"  and wondering how your kids could have lived with you for three months now (or, in our oldest daughter's case, three years) and NOT know this stuff yet.  The moments that you look around and ask, "Am I just failing miserably as a parent right now?!"

#1 - "Sunshine, we do NOT kiss the roof of the car.  ... And, no, we don't kiss the windows either."

#2 - "Goose, I'm sorry that your brother kicking the ball in your face has made your heart sad.  Perhaps you shouldn't pick flowers when you're goalie anymore."

#3 - "Yes, I will give you a hug as long as you don't burp in my ear.  I learned my lesson the first time."

#4 - "No, I will not judge your farting contest.  Do you even know who you're talking to?!"

#5 - "Liam, I think it's great that you stole the ball in soccer today.  No, we don't steel the ball from our own teammates.  ...No, seriously, I probably wouldn't brag about that."

#6 - "Goose, make-up and high heels are worn around the house only.  ...I understand that you don't think that's fair. You're five.  Talk to me in eight years and I'll reconsider, I promise."

#7 - "It's okay.  We're only twelve minutes late to church today.  They probably haven't even gotten to the offering yet."  (...We're working on it, okay?)

#8 - "Do they really need to join boy scouts?  We've got our own troop right here."  (Have I mentioned that my family is ginormous?)

#9 - (My routine bedtime conversation with our five-year-old) "Remember, one hug and one kiss.  ...Yes, one drink.  ...I'm sorry your tummy is growling.  But the good news is we'll eat first thing in the morning again.  ...Do you want me to cover you up now or later?  ...I promise I'll remember to check on you AND cover you up AND make sure your door is cracked THIS much AND blow you a kiss.  ...Your toe will be okay.  ...No, we already read a book tonight.  ...We'll talk about what we're having for breakfast in the morning.  ...Yes, we have breakfast every morning.  ...Please say excuse me when you burp.  ...Now you want me to cover you up?  But you just told me you wanted me to - never mind.  Here you go.  Of course I'll cover you up now.  ...Here's your doggy to cuddle with! ...So you want me to cover you up later instead?  Of course.  I'll be happy to. ...You told me you didn't want Mr. Potato Head.  But you do?  Okay, great!  Here you go!  ...Well, it's amazing what band-aids can do and GUESS WHAT?!  We can put a band-aid on that FIRST THING in the morning!  ...My eyes always hurt a lot less when I close them.  And, you know, go to sleep.  ...Go to sleep, Goose.  ...Goodnight Goose.  ...That's fine, go to the bathroom.  ...Did you wash your hands?  No?  Then why are your hands in your mouth?!  Go wash your hands.  ...Okay, goodnight! I love you!  ...Who loves you more than anything?  ...Yes, Mommy and Daddy.  For the rest of forever."

#10 - "Please stop letting the dog lick you in the armpit."


Stay tuned.  I'm sure we'll have more gems to add to this list.  ;)

The Rest of the Story

I love my job.  I love my students.  But MY GOODNESS every once in a while, there's a kid who, well, requires a little extra patience. I can remember the day a little boy moved backed into our district and sauntered into my class, chip on his shoulder and frown on his face. I'm not normally a Negative Nancy when it comes to my students, but I remember thinking "Oh boy... here we go again."  Here was a kid who talked all the time, rarely followed directions, and was CONSTANTLY begging for attention any way he could get it.  Once, after working an entire class period on one paper, I said, "Okay class!  Keep your papers looking nice until you get home so you can show them off to your parents!"  -- And the kid immediately crumpled up his paper and dramatically marched to the trash can and threw it away.  He always seemed so unpleasant, like he was angry at the world.  

A few years later, that little boy is now my son.  All of those classroom memories make so much more sense now that I know the rest of the story.  He is one of the kindest, most loving and thoughtful kids that you'll ever meet.  But a little angry at the world?  He has every right to be.

The rest of his story is not mine to tell, but I'm happy to talk about how he stole a piece of my heart and reminded me that everyone deserves to have their story heard.  Don't pass judgment when you don't really understand what's going on.

Of course, it's easier said than done, and every once in a while I need another reminder.

Like last week.  Another sweet son of mine (we'll call him "Liam") was having trouble speaking calmly and kindly to big brother.  (Okay, it was definitely a two-way street, and big brother faced consequences too... but that's not really an important part of the story.)  Because Liam was unable to fix the problem on his own, my husband and I asked him to write a one-page paper about why showing love is important.

The first thing Liam said after hearing his assignment was, "I don't get it."

I replied, "Liam.  Write about why it's important to show that you love someone even when you're frustrated or upset with them.  Why is it important to remember that we always love each other?"

Again, "I don't get it."

And being the brilliant, thoughtful parent that I am, I said, "You're fine. Write the paper."

The paper went unwritten for a long time.  I gave Liam all sorts of incentives, like:  "The paper will be done by tonight or you'll owe me 30 push-ups."  (He chose the push-ups.)  "People who have finished all of their chores and have finished writing any papers they owe me may play video games."  (He chose to not play video games.)

My husband finally stepped in and had a man-to-man talk with Liam.  That night, Liam finished the paper.

I was thrilled!  I thanked my husband and gushed about what a good influence he was on our sweet Liam.  

But then I read the paper.

"Why Love is Important:

They help me with homework.

They are nice to me.

They love me a lot.

They play with me.

They share with me.

They keep an eye on me.

They don't yell at me.

They tell good things.

They keep me safe.

They play sports with me."  ...etc.

I turned around and walked straight back to my husband.  EXPLAIN YOURSELF.  All Liam did was make a list of things WE do for HIM.  What in the world does that have to do with "Why Love is Important"?!?!?!

That's when he told me about the conversation he and Liam had during their 'man-to-man' time:

"Liam, why haven't you written your paper?"

"I don't understand it."

"Aren't you just supposed to write about why love is important?"

"Yes sir, but I don't get it."

"Liam, write about why showing us that you love us is important. I know you love your siblings and your mom and me.  You say so every night at bedtime."

"But, Dad, I thought that's just something you say.  Like, good night, and hello.  Stuff like that."  

"Do you know what love means?"

"No sir."

And so Liam wrote a paper, not about what love is or why it's important to show it, but about what love looks like.  It's helping with homework, even though there are a million other things I could be doing.  It's being nice... even when he's DRIVING ME INSANE.  It's playing with him and sharing with him - even when it's incredibly inconvenient - because he is that special to me.  It's keeping him safe, even when I'm scared out of my mind. 

So, I guess, Liam taught me two important lessons that day.  Knowing what love is isn't quite as important as knowing what love feels like.  Love makes you feel happy, safe, welcome, cherished, special.  Love makes you feel important.

The second lesson, of course, was the reminder that everyone deserves to be heard.  What you see on the outside isn't always what's going on on the inside.  My son has lived much of his life not knowing what love is -- and, gosh darn it, if he learns nothing else from me, he WILL know what love is. 

And that, my friends, is the rest of the story.