School Days

Saturday is here, and we have made it through the first week of school. Little Bug started kinder this year. I handled it well - I only only cried the first day. I even waited until after I left her classroom. I was quite proud of myself. :) To be fair, she did well this week too. I could tell by Friday she was wearing down though. Her big brown eyes were a little wet and puffy when I dropped her off Friday morning. We were definitely ready for the weekend to come.

Today we are off to buy her new shoes. Apparently, her feet grew over the past month because only a month ago I bought her seven pairs. She obviously hasn't received the memo that Mommy needs her to stay small just a little bit longer.

The Little Man also had a good first week. He was glad to see many of his classmates from previous years and was very excited to be back in school. I have high hopes for this year. He will be receiving more reading, language arts, and resource time. I have also hired a private speech pathologist to supplement the speech time he is receiving at school. We have been diligent about working on reading and speech over the summer, so hopefully we won't see any regression this year like we did last year.

All in all, it was a good week. To top it off, we celebrated by making back-to-school cupcakes! I probably shouldn't have eaten three - but I did.

Homosexuality and Motherhood

Life is somewhat back to normal around here. My partner has started a new job, and I am back in school, which is both exciting and terrifying. The subject of my blog today is homosexuality and motherhood because, inevitably, the relationship between the two always makes for a stressful start at any new job or school.

The situation that prompted me to touch on this subject took place inside of a women's studies class that I attended yesterday. As the class looked over the new syllabus, we were asked to answer, by a show of hands, if any of us were mothers. A simple question? Yes. Yet, I didn’t raise my hand. Was it because I wasn’t sure if I was a mother? No, I know that I’m a mother. Was it because I was ashamed of being a mother? No, I think motherhood is important. Was it because I wished I was not a mother? No, I enjoy parenting my children and am grateful that I am able to do so. A simple question? Yes. A simple answer? No. The answer to this question has never been simple, not because the answer itself is complex, but because the answers to the questions that follow are complex.

I am a lesbian. I am also a mother. When people discover these two things about me, I am often bombarded with questions that are both intimate and inappropriate. My partner and I are constantly faced with the challenge of tactfully answering not so tactful questions. Curious strangers seem to think it is okay to pry into the sexual and private details of our relationship. This is always an upsetting and invasive experience. People would never dream of throwing such inappropriate questions at a heterosexual couple. I can’t imagine walking up to a heterosexual woman and inquiring about whether her children were adopted and who their “real parents” were. I can’t fathom asking her if her husband’s sperm was used in the creation of her children or if she was impregnated by some other man. I would never ask a heterosexual woman if her children came out of her vagina. Yet, for some reason, the combination of my sexual preference and my parental status leads most people, including strangers, to believe that they can ask me just about anything, and that is not okay. I understand that people are often curious about things with which they are not familiar. However, it is not appropriate to violate the sexual privacy of any couple, heterosexual or homosexual. It was the fear of being violated in this way that kept me from answering such a simple and seemingly harmless question. “Are any of you mothers?” Yes, I am a mother. My partner is also a mother, and we are both “real parents”.