This parenthood thing is an exercise in overcoming pride and prejudice...my own, that is...
For those of you who think I am so open minded, let me tell you that I wrestled with the fact that the girls that would be placed with us were AA. For some reason, I figured that A) people would look at my white skin and their black skin and figure I got seduced by a college football player or B) that the girls would not have as many dates because - while it is common to see white girls dating black guys, you don't see many white guys dating black girls.
Ridiculous, I know, but there you have it. Darren had his own issues with the Latino race thinking that people would assume our children were illegal immigrants. Absolutely absurd on both of our parts and a learning experience for both of us as we truly explored racial heritages.
Now on to pride battles...
For some reason, I seem to think that how they dress is a reflection of me...but I am learning to let that go and let them pick out their own outfits. We've had some doozies - brown velvet pants with a neon green Bratz shirt, hot pink tight pants with a brown and orange flowered shirt, neon orange shirt with red and white checkered pants and pink Dora shoes...sometimes they look like they have taken a running leap and dove into a pile of random Goodwill clothes. I'm letting go...
Their academic progress, or lack thereof, is also a pride issue...S does really well in school with the exception of her handwriting. K has no interest in learning her letters except for the first letter of her name and the first letter of her "stister's" name. When I try to work with her on flash cards, she guesses every letter to be "C". I tell her, "We are working only on these three letters and none of them are "C", now guess again..." to which she looks up at me and says, "Is it "C"?" AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGHHHH...so she might be the last one on planet Earth to write her name or recognize her ABCs or count past 8...I'm letting go...
On to pride with behavior...my pastor and good friend says K had her hands down the back of her pants during Sunday school. My guess is we forgot to lotion her "booty" and it gets dry and itchy. So I've got the buttscratching kid. And S came home and said, "I colored on my pants." I asked her why and got a blank stare. She has no idea what on earth possessed her to take a red crayon and color a large blob on the front of her off-white corduroy pants. I'm letting go...
I'm letting go and hoping that, instead of being the best dressed or the cleanest or the smartest, that they grow up to be the nicest, most caring, most thoughtful adults. If I can just help them survive until then!
1 comment:
Completely get the pride thing. You definitely won't be the only one with a child who doesn't want to learn their letters, numbers, how to write, etc. Braedon is 5 and knows that his name starts with a B. He doesn't care about letters, numbers, how to write, etc. We keep trying and it is not working for us yet. Maybe when he gets to high school he will know that there are 7 letters in his name. By college he might be able to spell his name. There is some hope in my childrens future. :)
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