Let's Discuss This
Why is it okay for politicians to use groups of people to divide individuals instead of bringing them together? Why is it okay for people to preach hate and to treat individuals differently because of the fear of the unknown?
Why is it okay for politicians to use groups of people to divide individuals instead of bringing them together? Why is it okay for people to preach hate and to treat individuals differently because of the fear of the unknown?
So I really need to get on the stick with this blog or I will just become one of those bloggers who no one really cares to read stuff from. That may be the case anyway when it all boils right down to it. My problem is I have so many things I want to do and either time, confidence or money keeps me from pursuing them. What is that about!!!
Found a great quote today... so I will put it here and refer to it often (that is if I remember to do so). Those who've invested the most are the last to surrender. Therefore, stand firm, let nothing move you, always give yourself fully to the mission and keep a long memory for it will serve you well in the future. -Coach Vince Lombardi
Those words truly resinate with me... does everyone go through phases where they are ultra-motivated by some things and then other things are just done just to say they were done? Is it that I am afraid of failure or afraid of success or perhaps it is I am afraid of the success of failure or the failure of success... that is one in the same isn't it?
There are a lot of things I am damn good at, but refuse to share them with others because I guess I feel like they won't care... why would they so this brings me back full circle to this blog and actually this website. Do people want to read about two moms navigating with their son through life? It really is no different in the grand scheme of things to a heterosexual couple raising their children.
I don't know maybe there are people out there who disagree with us and maybe it is interesting to talk about. What do you think?
We want people to treat us the same yet we single ourselves out... isn't that a contradiction? There are some situations that are not treated the same for instance Father's Day (which we have a story about that) but it is no different than a widower or a single mom scenario.
So what do people want to see on here? Let my research begin...
My rant for the day... as you can see it has been entirely too long since we have blogged on here. Well as you can imagine life has been busy... well what we thought was busy has now become insane these last few weeks. Mama T has been with family because her parents are not in the best of health and I have been single momin' it with me and lil guy. I would have to say neither job is probably be done the best that it could be, because we are worried about the other and how they are doing in their situation... wishing you could be there to help.
All the while trying to keep schedules as normal as possible for a lil guy who is flexing his independence and his jaws which therefore means his teeth too. Yes it is true... he had become a chew toy at school and now he has chewed on a few of his friends at school. That has seemed to have died down for the time being. He did bite me this past weekend and when I told him no and I guess the look in my eyes caused him to immediate break down into a huge crying fest included with the driviling that one gets when they have been crying for hours, but his was instantaneous. Mama T then picked him up and put him in "time-out" which he actually stayed. We kept him there for a minute and then he was made to come and apologize to me... which consisted of a hug and a kiss. So hard to discipline lil guys when they are that age, but it must be done...
More to come...
So, this Sunday, we met some friends in the city for a little play date. We went to one of those inflatable jumping places (let’s call it Bouncing Barracuda since they are always heavy on alliteration and have an anthropomorphized animal mascot). Bouncing Barracuda, versus the country come to town Leaping Llama where we usually go, is culturally very diverse and they serve things like humus plates and organic cheese crackers instead of cotton candy and those red hotdogs.
Anyway, little E is only 16 months old, he has confidence around other kids, but in those places he is still pretty young and small compared to the other kids. The environment of the Bouncing Barracuda was supercharged, maybe because children were expelling the rest of the devil that church didn’t take care of, but they were all worked up into a fevered pitch. It was like a middle school production of “Apocalypse Now”. As a strict rule - we follow E everywhere he goes in those places because it’s not unheard of for older kids to go ripping through the three and under jumpers bouncing babies into a whiplash, or creaming them with loose toys strewn about the room, or knocking them down without one of those awkward, under the breath “excuse me’s” that come with the realization that a mom is standing there. These things we are aware of, but what happened on Sunday went beyond the boundaries of errant ball tossing or the clumsy collision of trying to balance as you walked.
Our baby, our little man, our reason for living - was slapped… not once, but twice. Two separate kids, two separate incidences, and two moms in shock. The first time was between E and a 7 or 8 year old girl. Our friends’ daughter wanted a ball and E went to get one for her. He had his hands on it first, but the girl decided that E should know through some sort of telepathy that the ball belonged to her. She screamed at him and slapped his hand away. Mama K stood there in disbelief about what just happened. She sought her inner chi and told the little girl that it is not nice to hit and that he had the ball first. She should learn to share… she adamantly said, No! To this Mama K replied you are not acting very nicely right now and then the little monster (I mean girl) decided she would give up the ball only by throwing it at lil E’s head. Mama K with her cat-like reflexes deflected the ball and it hit the little girl in the process. Off she went and so did lil E and Mama K.
I did not see any of this transpire, I was in the restroom getting knocked out by the toilet paper dispenser (don’t ask). I heard about it from Mama K. “Where are her parents?” “What did you do?” “What did he do?” A series of questions I asked, but he moved on and so did we. The second time I was there. Outside one of the big kid bouncers were two plastic police motorcycle rocking things (basically your kid straddles them and rocks back and forth). E had been rocking on them earlier in the day and they had disappeared. Well E found them, they had been, apparently as we would find out in a few minutes, strategically placed beside the bouncer. These boys that put them there were physically too big for the rockers, but the rockers were just the right size to fulfill the “Chips” sized fantasy they had going. E had begun to climb on one as one of the “Chips” wannabe’s tumbled out of the bouncer. He slapped E’s hand and ripped the toy away from him.
Little E’s eyes began to well up with tears as “Ponch’s” little left hand collapsed on E’s stinging little right hand. Mama K told the boy to say he was sorry and that hitting was not nice. The kid said nothing. I took over “Who is your mother?” “Where is she?!?” Nothing. Not out of fear was the child silent - he knew if he said nothing, we would eventually leave, because we couldn’t wait forever. I looked for his parents, but who was I looking for?
Was he with one of the dad’s glued to the Tennessee basketball game on the flat screen above the men’s bathroom (they lost by the way…)? Was he with one of the internet browsing Betty’s checking in with their Facebook friends, that are either really good friends you talk to on a regular basis anyway or one you friended because you can’t say “no” even though you disliked each other in high school? Was he with one of the people lounging in the massaging recliners that were not actually massaging because nobody wants to pay a buck for five minutes of rattling around in a chair? Was he with one of the families in a large group of families socializing in a circle with only those parents facing north able to see the bouncers as big as they are? Was he with any of those parents that were taking this opportunity to catch up on sleep? Or, maybe, just maybe… (wait for it…) he was with the mother we saw in her SUV in the parking lot reading a book as we were leaving.
We will never know because no one approached us and said “Is there something I can do for you (strange adult women I’ve never seen before speaking to my child)?” But I guess the reaction, or lack thereof, on behalf of the parents summed up the children’s attitudes: No one cares about me - so I do not care about anyone else. Next time, I guess we’ll alert an employee or, and I like this idea even better, we can go on a school day in the morning when all of these little jerks are trapped in a classroom like caged animals waiting to be unleashed by their parents on any given Sunday. What would you do in this situation? Is it okay to correct another child’s (known or complete stranger) behavior and is it even worth it?
So lately as we have gotten to know formerly complete strangers better... they have begun to feel comfortable enough to him and haw around the questions of our son and how he came to be. It is quite an interesting story and still pretty unique I guess. The odd thing is it really is as simple or as difficult as you want to make it. Mama T and I are the go with the flow - see what happens type of folks - so for us it was rather easy I suppose.
Our deal was... I would carry and she would pick the other half of the genetic make-up from a catalog. Now mind you it isn't like a Sears catalog where there are pictures, dimensions and prices by the product, but it was similar. More involved and with no pictures. We sat down and decided on what potential eye color, hair texture, height, weight and nationality we wanted as the other half of this soon to be little person. It really is an interesting exercise to participate in, all while not knowing the individual at all, but only knowing them through their stats. It was like we were some sort of sports scouting agent looking to find the next big star athlete.
As we combed through and eliminated choices and put stars by the ones we wanted to pursue and think about further - the weight of the situation would hit us and we would put the catalog away for a couple of days. On top of all the stats - you could look at many of the donors bios and staff observations about them. Some of the interesting things you would find out about them were there favorite foods, sports or animals. Their hobbies, grade point average, likes and dislikes in life. We utilized these to assist us in narrowing down our choices even further until we had it down to two or three. Once we were at this point it was time to pull out the debit card and find out even more about these anonymous donors. It really is like unravelling a mystery and with each layer you delve in to more and more questions arised that you wanted to find answers to.
We were able to purchase voice interviews with the potential donors we sought and more extensive family history and backgrounds... in these interviews they were asked questions by the staff. You were able to gleen bits and pieces of these young men as to why they were chosing to do this for families gay and straight alike. Let me just state for the record our donor, is the age of my younger brother - 26 now, but probably 23 or 24 at the time. So much younger than Mama T and myself... ha ha ha.
Recently, we went back to the site and saw that we could purchase a picture of the donor. We assumed that it would be a baby picture, but it wasn't. The funny thing is I look at the picture and I really don't see him in our lil guy yet, but maybe the enormous amount of personality is what I would take away from the boy in the picture. The donor looks like quite the ham and the center of attention. Our lil guy is quite the charmer.
What drew us to the donor... well for me it was his drive and ambition in life and his willingness to help others. He sounds like a nice guy. I will have to let Mama T address her initial impressions of him. He is an architect and likes woodworking and was a semi-professional bicycle rider in college. It will be interesting to see if any of these traits will be ingrained in our lil guy as he gets older and becomes his own man. It was important for us to go with a donor who wanted to be known - who knows our lil guy may want to meet the man responsible for the other half of his DNA someday.
I am not sure what that meeting would be like when I try to picture it in my mind's eye... we have plenty of time between now and then to formulate it though. I just hope that when it all boils down to it our lil guy will always know that no matter where he came from or where he goes, he will be loved and cherished everyday. I am sure Mama T will want to add to this so stay tuned...