Friday, June 24, 2011

what do you do when you don't look alike?

This evening I was driving home from a food exchange and was listening to public radio. The conversation was about race, the interview with an author who writes short stories based on everyday kinds of events, yet unravels and pulls apart the event to delve deeper into the race issues entwined within.

It got me thinking about something that happened a couple months ago. Elliott and I were out to lunch at a local coffee shop. We had finished eating and were leaving the shop and as we walked out the door, we ran into another mom and her child, who was riding in a stroller, as we were all trying to pass through the same door. I apologized since Elliott had sorta pushed the door open in her face and she said, "Wow. He's really good looking." I smiled and said, "Thanks." in a somewhat uncomfortable way. It isn't that I disagree, but I sometimes get uncomfortable when people, especially strangers, talk about how good looking he is. I was even more uncomfortable with the comment when she started to look a bit confused, looking back and forth between Elliott and I, and then she said, "Uh, is he... yours?" I know what was whirling through her mind: they are different colors. Their skin and hair are totally different. She looks so frumpy, he's so adorable. Is she Latina? Or Asian? Or what? Is she the nanny?

Since Elliott has been born I've experienced similar encounters. Sometimes they said, "Oh, he must have Daddy's coloring." Or "Oh, he must look like Dad." or "Dad must be a blond." Every time it is a reminder that people still see the differences in our skin colors and many (some do, but not many) can't see past the skin and hair color and see that Elliott and I share the same eye shape and have the same nose. Elliott does have his dad's skin and hair color, but he has my ability to tan. He has his dad's body, long and lean, and his dad's mouth. He has my eye color, but with his dad's hazel that makes them extra interesting. He has my Grandma Daphne's hair. Looking at photos of her as a young child, she has the same color and curls I see on my son. His beautiful long toes and fingers, says Grandma Daphne, come from her.

So there it is. I'm mixed race. My mother's side is Welsh and Scottish. My Father's side is Chippewa Cree/Sioux. I look very much like my father, the Native side, but I see parts of my white side in my own child. I see my Native side in him too with his nose (totally a Chippewa Cree nose) and his ability to tan beautifully.

So in that one confused question from this lady in the doorway of a coffee shop, I was reminded of what many people must be confused by everyday. Does this boy and woman belong together? Are they related, mom and son, nanny and child? It was a painful reminder to me that there are people that would not pair me with my son in a line up simply because we're different shades. And that hurts. I'm not sure I can exactly explain why, but it does.

I'm pretty used to being the minority in the room. Growing up as a minority in Montana, even as a Native, which as far as minorities go in Montana, is the most prevalent, I'm pretty used to looking different from everyone else. Very few times has it been a real issue. Other than one romantic relationship, I've ALWAYS been involved in mixed-race relationships. When Nate and I first realized together that we were a mixed race relationship we cracked up... it just seems stupid and minuscule in our lives, our differences in race and in our outer look. And it has never, ever bothered me as a couple that we look different. But with my child, well, it is just different.

So I don't know if I would call that other mom racist, or any of the others that have noticed the "differences" between Elliott and I, but the fact that they can't always see past the differences in our "shades" to see that we actually do look quite a bit alike, is always a bit jarring to me and is always a disappointing reminder that people want things to "fit" and make sense and that despite as far as we've come as a society, when things don't easily fit, it confuses. And that makes me sad and, unfortunately, it is a part of my everyday personal life.

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Happy Father's Day/7th Wedding Anniversary

In the limo on the way to the reception.

Nate and Elliott in the NICU

A while back I was telling a friend that Nate and I's wedding anniversary was going to be on Father's Day since we had gotten married the day before Father's Day, it was bound to happen at some point.

"Didn't think that one through, huh?" she said about our choice of date.

I responded by saying something about how great of a Father's Day gift it was for our dads, but was admittedly feeling overwhelmed by having two big events on one day. But I've changed my mind, now that THE DAY, tomorrow, is imminent, I'm thinking about how perfect this actually is.

Our anniversary marks the day be pledged to be together, to dedicate the future of our lives to each other and to our future and current families. So really, it is the day that laid the foundation to what we are now... A family. We are parents. We have a son. So how perfect is it that every once in awhile, we will get the opportunity to celebrate that growth in one day?

So tomorrow honors my husband. The man that makes us a family. The man that makes me a better woman and mother. The man that has an amazing magic touch with our son, who, I will fully admit, can be overwhelming at times. Nate is an amazing father, humble and inspiring.

I often think back to Elliott's birth. Nate must have been terrified, but he didn't show it. He was solid, steady and the most amazing support. More than I had ever hoped for. We hadn't even talked much about what things would happen in the delivery room... we were scheduled, at 30 weeks to start birthing classes and to soon start our prenatal sessions with our Doulas. I figured we'd work it all out then.

But that didn't happen. On Thursday, Nov. 1, 2007, at 30 weeks gestation, my water broke and we were in labor. We were to start birthing classes that Monday.

There he is, supporting me all the way (and supported by our friend Susan, who came straight from her job as a nurse in another hospital)

Immediately after Elliott was born.

From the second he was born, Nate was in love with our little boy. He spent our time in the hospital shuttling between the NICU and my room (where I was stuck for the first 24 hours until a nurse could wheel me down) taking photos of Elliott with our camera and running the camera up to me so I could see him and the progress they were making with him before I got to see him.
Nate with Elliott right after Elliott arrived in the NICU.

When Elliott was two weeks old, he finally got to hold him. Every time he came to the NICU on his way home from work, I was doing Kangaroo Care with Elliott and when he wasn't working, he insisted we use the time for more Kangaroo Care. I'm still amazed by his restraint. He wanted to use the time we had to do what was best for Elliott, and spent those first couple weeks holding Elliott's little hand and talking to him as he slept in the isolette, since some days Elliott was already exhausted from Kangaroo Care or was DSATing too much to do it at all.

Nate stopped by the hospital every morning before he went to work to spend some time with his little boy, which was such a comfort to me, since I was usually exhausted from night after night of waking every three hours to pump. Knowing Nate was there with Elliott gave me the comfort I needed to get better rest than I would have otherwise allowed myself. So that first time holding his little guy was quite the sweet treat. And I remember how he argued with me about how Elliott needed Kangaroo Care time and I insisted he needed the chance to hold his boy.

Happy Family! The day we took Elliott home. This was taken moments after we stepped OUT of the NICU with Elliott!


So Sunday, June 19th, 2011 Elliott and I will celebrate Nate: Dad, Husband and amazing


Elliott and Nate in those sleepy early days at home.

Nate wrapping Elliott in a blanket at Elliott's first pediatrician appointment.

Babywearing Daddy!

Saturday, June 4, 2011

sweet things

A couple of things that have happened in the past couple of days that are so sweet I don't want to forget them.

Today Elliott and I were leaving for a playdate at a splash pad and he was buckled into his carseat and I was standing on the driver's side door talking to Nate about a couple of things before we took off. Elliott was super excited about our playdate and had been happily chatting about playing at the park and in the water when all of a sudden he yelled, "MOM! I love you!" Super, super sweet.

Recently I've gone out with a friend on a couple of weekend afternoons (mostly shopping trips that we don't want to take the kids on, so we go together and leave the boys with our husbands). Elliott was asking to go and I explained that this was a "Mommy Playdate." He seemed to understand after that.

So last week he asked if we could have a playdate. I asked which friend he'd like me to set it up with and he said, "No, with YOU Mom! I want a playdate with YOU!"

What a sweet little boy.