Doing Nothing

A lot of people are weighing in on whether or not they think NFL players should take a knee during the National Anthem to protest the oppression of black people in this country. Some say it's a peaceful way to protest, others say they're acting ungrateful for their paychecks, others say it's disrespectful to our service men and women. Apparently President Trump has weighed in with his opinion, calling them "sons of bitches", which has led other celebrities to give their opinions.

Some people have questioned whether these NFL players have any right to feel oppressed, when they are living the good life with money and fame and royal treatment. I have never been a black man. My only experience is one of a white girl and later a white woman, so I don't know what a black man should or should not feel. Here are some things I do know.

I do know that my friend wasn't allowed to go to another friend's birthday party in the third grade because that friend was black. I did nothing.

I do know that white girls in high school said their parents would kill them if they dated a black boy. I did nothing.

I do know friends who have used the N word, either in song or joke or conversation. I did nothing.

I've had friends who've said someone was attractive "for a black guy". I did nothing.

I do know that I've heard people tell jokes about black men being unable to provide for their families. I did nothing.

I do know that I've heard people tell jokes about black women having so many children they had to call them by their last names. I did nothing.

I do know people who have suggested that black people are like animals because they saw a protest turn violent. I did nothing.

I do know friends who've said "well, was he black?" in reference to a story about someone's poor choices or questionable behavior. I did nothing.

I do know I've heard people refer to things as "ghetto" when they mean black. I did nothing.

I do know my grandmother would hold her purse tighter if a black man were walking toward her. I did nothing.

I do know that a realtor told us in college that we wouldn't want to live in a certain neighborhood because it was "getting darker". I did nothing.

I do know that my grandmother told her hospice nurse that she was pretty "even if you're black". I said nothing.

I have always had black friends, but when I was in graduate school I became close friends with all the black girls in my program. We had many conversations about race. They asked me once to tell them the jokes that white people say about black people. A heaviness hung in the air. I didn't want to do it, but I couldn't deny that these jokes existed. I couldn't deny the way that people talked about them only because of the color of their skin. At my best, I may have spoken out against some of these things. At my worst, I laughed along, or even contributed. It pains me to acknowledge this truth, but this movement is not about my pain.

I would like to think that if I'd been alive during the civil rights era, I would have been on the right side of history. I'd like to think that I would have marched and I would have protested and I would have helped the cause. But sadly my history shows that if I can't be bothered to speak out against a casual joke, I probably wouldn't have been a participant in any formal activism. Maybe I would've watched from the sidelines.

I would like to think that I am not racist. But every statement above came from someone else who also doesn't think they're racist. At my core I do not believe that black people are any different from white people, but if I'm honest we know I have a lifetime of experience that has subtly and overtly told me that I am more valued. I hang my head at the sadness of this truth and I try to do better and teach my kids better.

It occurs to me that if I can't or won't or don't know how to help, I should at least move out of the way. So while you kneel in peaceful opposition to oppression, I will do nothing. I will do nothing to get in your way. I will do nothing to criticize you. I will do nothing to assume that I know what it feels like to be a person of color in this country. I will do nothing that implies I've earned the right to be a part of this conversation. I will do nothing to oppose the idea that I am part of the problem, and part of what you are protesting. I will do nothing to suggest that this is remotely about me or my feelings or my comfort. I will do nothing to interrupt or interfere. I will do nothing but listen and learn and try to do better. It is the least I can do.

Preparing for Parenthood- Life Before and After Kids

We get it. Life changes when you have kids. It's amazing. I've never felt as high as I did the day I saw my first child. We thought it wouldn't change much. Then priorities shift, schedules shift, friendships change, and before you know it your BK (before kids) life feels a lot different than your AK (after kids) life.

Three years later I cried the first time I held his brother. We learned a lot with the first, and we have so far done some things differently with the second. We also set the bar kind of low to start with, not really realizing it gets lower with the next.  Here are some other specifics on the shifts we've noticed going from no kids to one kid to two kids.


Food preparation:
Before children: Menus planned for the week according to what's on sale and has a corresponding coupon from the coupon binder. Potluck poker night with friends on Wednesdays. Eat out on the weekends.

First child: Buy organic fruits and vegetables and make homemade baby food that the baby will feed to the dog.

Second child: Make one serving of homemade baby food, which he will hate. Give up and give him exclusive table foods starting at 6 months. I'm sure french fries are fine. You'll never see your poker friends again.

Trash truck comes at 8:30 am. 
Before children: Ugh. WHY does it have to come so early? Some people are trying to sleep in.

First child: Ugh. WHY does it have to come so late? It's right in the middle of his morning nap, and it might wake him up.

Second child: Ugh. You didn't put the trash out. Also, you are now thankful for the 90 seconds of entertainment that the trash truck brings.

Naps
Before children: Leisurely nap anytime you feel like it. You are practically a cat.

First child: You are a slave to the nap gods. If your child does not get a nap the world will implode. You must be home in time for nap. If for some reason you are not home in time for nap and your child falls asleep in the car, DO NOT LEAVE THE CAR. Sit in the car in the driveway until the child awakens.

Second child: Naps are still important, but not always feasible. Sorry that it's time for your morning nap, but it's time to take your brother to preschool. Sorry that it's time for your afternoon nap but it's time to pick your brother up from preschool. You got 5 minutes of sleep in the car? That oughta do it.

Contents of your diaper bag: 
Before children: No diaper bag. Knockoff designer purse from Chinatown contains wallet, keys, phone, and old receipts you don't need.

First child: All the contents of your former purse are now in the diaper bag along with diapers, wipes, hand sanitizer, teethers, and bottles. And old receipts you don't need.

Second child: Is this a diaper bag or an overnight bag? Two pirates, a motorcycle, tissues, a pair of shoes, a batman, two tampons, fruit snacks, an apple, Wonder Woman, the baby's plastic keys, a phone charger, and sour gummies. You think there might be a diaper in there somewhere too.

Punctuality
Before children: You are chronically punctual.

First child: No doubt the kid needed something on the way out the door, or nap time ran later than usual. You remind people of how you used to be chronically punctual as you show up a few minutes late.

Second child: One refused to get ready and one refused to be put down. One HAD to go back to find their special Batman, and the other pooped up his back and needed a fresh outfit. What time was the meeting again? Maybe we can email during nap time.

Contents of your car:
Before children: Files from work. A smoothie cup from this morning. Three changes of clothes for you in the trunk of your civic, just in case. You know you won't be the kind of parent that "thinks they have to have an SUV just because they have a baby."

First child: Crumbs. Everywhere. Stroller. Car seat. Diaper bag. Books. You buy an SUV because you have a baby. You keep extra diapers in the back, just in case.

Second child: Crumbs. Everywhere. Two car seats. Superheroes. School bag. Diaper bag. Art project that school sent home. A Harry Potter wand. Car rider pickup name sign roughly the size of a billboard. Diapers and two pair of toddler underwear in the back, just in case.

Presentation: 
Before children: Cute outfit. Oops, I spilt a little of my lunch on my shirt!

First child: Get to work and notice you left the house with spit up on you at least once a week.  The baby looks cute at drop off, but has on one shoe and no shirt by the time you pick him up. You'll get home from the grocery store and realize your yoga pants were on inside out.

Second child: Continual paste of goldfish and slobber on something of yours somewhere. Both kids look cute at drop off, but big kid got paint on his clothes, and the backup clothes from his bag are too small. At pickup he's sporting what are now capri pants and a midriff shirt. The baby had no backup clothes in his bag and after a diaper leaked he's forced to wear someone else's girl jeans with heart pockets.

Head Injuries:
Before children: There are no head injuries in your life.

First child: Falls out of his high chair and no one was watching. You call a friend who is an ER doc, and text two EMTs you know. You really feel terrible about the injury.

Second child: At his well checkup, you mention that he fell and hit his head 48 hours ago. He's okay, right? You feel a little bad that you kind of forgot about it until now.


Condition of your house:
Before children: The house is such a mess. There are bills stacked in the kitchen and laundry that needs folding. Whew!

First child: Once child is on the move, you put up so many gates the house looks like the stalls at the Kentucky Derby. There are baby toys everywhere. And bills stacked in the kitchen and laundry that needs folding.

Second child: There are baby toys everywhere. And big kid toys everywhere. And the babysitter texted to say sorry they threw a deck of cards all over the upstairs. And clothes discarded in heaps on the floor that look like the rapture has occurred and you've been left behind. And bills stacked in the kitchen and laundry that needs folding.

Social Life: 
Before children: You don't even realize how cool you are. You go out with friends, you go to weddings all the time, you host dinner parties and themed birthday parties for yourself. You're friends with drag queens. You take trapeze lessons and do standup comedy, and you know top 40 songs and pop culture references. If someone invites you to do something, you say yes and then you do it.

First child: You now realize how cool you used to be. You know Sesame Street references and top 40 songs from last year.  You go to baby showers all the time.  If someone invites you to do something you wonder if it will interfere with nap time. Then you check with your husband to see if he's cool if you go.

Second child: You know all the superheroes and their alter egos. You only know top 40 songs from the 90s. You go to kid birthday parties all the time. You watch standup comedy on Netflix. If someone invites you to do something, you check with your husband to see if he's cool if you go. Then you spend the next 45 minutes trying to get a babysitter because your husband has to work at that time. You text 14 people to see who's available. You see if your friend can move the time to accommodate the sitter's schedule. Then, when you're about to leave someone throws up and you have to cancel on everyone anyway.


This is why we aren't having any more children. We don't have much room for decline. In fact, I bet even the Duggars used to be cool before they had all those kids.

It happens before you know it. 

That Time I Was Pregnant With Gary Coleman

You may remember from this post It's All Fun And Games Until Somebody Gets Dwarfism that
1. The Boy was tiny, and 2. I love little people.

Fast forward to today. I had a 36 week ultrasound for Beyoyo. He is growing well, I had plenty of fluid, and everything looked a-okay. (sidenote: so grateful).

I saw his little ribs, hands, face, and man parts. All good. Then the technician asked if I wanted to try to get a 3D picture of his profile. Duh times 100. Since I am so far along it's a little harder to get a good picture because of the squish factor. Apparently it's pretty crowded in there.

So she scanned around trying to get him to cooperate for a picture. What came up was unbelievable.

.

.

.

.

.

. 

Y'all, he looked like Gary Coleman. 

While I was waiting to see my midwife I googled a picture of Gary Coleman just to make sure I wasn't seeing things. 

I inexplicably started crying. I texted the Husband and told him baby was fine. I texted my friend Kati, saying the baby was big and fine and looked like Gary Coleman and I was crying. This was her response: 

Isn't that a good friend? It's a little are-you-okay-get-it-together-this-is-what-you-always-dreamed-of. 

When I left I called The Husband, who was stuck at work, and gave him the details.

"He looks like Gary Coleman." I said.

"You love Gary Coleman!" he said. "It will be our own little Webster." 

"That's Emmanuel Lewis!" I said, with the tone of arrogant comic-conners who are offended that you said Star Trek instead of Star Wars. 

At any rate, I cannot WAIT to see what this little guy is going to look like in real life. 

So, karma again. This is a combination of me loving little people and loving black people all squished into one. The squish factor.

Whacoo talking 'bout Beyoyo? 

Update: this post, the best baby present ever. 

Cliff Notes of Parenting

You know we've only got the one kid, and we've only been parents for two years, but there are a few things we've really got figured out. We've sorted through advice from our parents and grandparents, and friends, and the Internet, and frankly I'm pretty proud of how we've filtered. Here are the things we know for sure, in six important areas for parents. 

1. If you let your child cry at night he will grow up thinking no one loves him, and he might become a crazed lunatic who kills people. So meet his needs at night, unless he needs a bottle, which will cause his teeth to rot out. And let him sleep with you. You don't want him to wake up all alone in the night thinking no one loves him. On the other hand, If you meet your child's every need, he will never learn independence and he will never stop sleeping with you. He'll come home from the prom and get into your bed and he will live in your basement when he's 42, spending his days chatting with his online girlfriend about Grand Theft Auto, a game in which he kills people. 

2. You must breastfeed exclusively. You must pump when you are away to stimulate production, but don't give the baby the pumped milk in a bottle, or your baby will develop nipple confusion and will refuse to nurse. Try a tiny syringe that holds one calorie at a time. Or maybe just use formula. If you give your child formula, you are poisoning his body. If you aren't able to breastfeed, people will stare at you when you purchase formula. They'll take pity on you and think you don't know any better. If you are able to breastfeed, people will stare at you when you nurse. You dirty hippie! Put those away, we don't want to see that in public. Does this look like a strip club? 

3. Don't let your child watch TV, because it rots her brain. She needs lots of stimulation, especially exposure to the outdoors. Unless the pollen count is too high. Around here, expect the pollen count to be around 18,000. She should not breathe outside if the pollen count is more than 7. She also shouldn't go out in the cold or the rain, or she'll get sick. If she must watch tv, it can only by PBS, and you should donate anytime there's a pledge-a-thon. She'll appreciate the $100 Elmo plush keychain for about a minute, and it'll help relieve your guilt that she's inside. In case of a pledge-a-thon, she's also allowed to watch indie films or documentaries about global warming. 

4. You should buy only organic whole foods for your children. You don't want them eating foods you can't pronounce, do you? If possible, these should also be locally grown from a farmer's market. You want your kids to have wholesome, home-cooked meals, not some pre-packaged, artificial, convenience food. Spend a few minutes in the kitchen forchrissake! Also, you should exclusively use coupons and have a well-organized and color coded coupon notebook that you take with you to the grocery store. By the way, there are no coupons for produce or whole foods. Don't spend a lot of time in the kitchen, because you need to spend time with your kids. It's okay to resort to nuggets and tots. They don't care what's for dinner, they just want to see you! 

5. You should be a stay-at-home parent. Obviously this will reduce nipple confusion, and give you time to create acceptable Pinterest snacks and sensory activities. Plus you don't want someone else raising your kids do you?? Just use more coupons and cut off cable (PBS) to reduce expenses and make ends meet. Also, you need to work so that you can afford organic whole foods, and to send your kids to the most exclusive Montessori schools, where others will help raise them. 

6. Let your child tell you when he or she is hungry. Kids need to learn to listen to their bodies and their natural cues. If they are hungry, allow them to fix themselves a snack to foster independence and confidence. Don't let your kids decide what they want to eat, they need to learn to eat what you've prepared for them. You're no short order cook!  If they are really hungry, they'll eat what you've prepared. If they refuse to eat, send them to bed without any dinner, even if they cry.  See rule #1.  If you let your child cry at night he will grow up thinking no one loves him, and he might become a crazed lunatic who kills people.....

No pressure!