Tag Archives: kids

“A woman can’t marry a woman”

Posted on by under civil rights, kindergarten, marriage

Lucy's Kindergarten Class

This morning 5 1/2 year old Lucy told me about a kid in her class who told her last week that a woman can’t marry a woman.  Just as she did in preschool and daycare, she said that she told her friend that’s not true because her mommy and momma are married and she was at their wedding and that she knows marriage is between two adults, a woman and a woman, or a woman and a man, or a man and a man.  She said that her friend told her that her parents’ marriage is not legal, and, this morning, she said, “I know you’re married, and it is legal, right?”

I simply said yes, your parents are legally married.  Otherwise, I would’ve answered her with all of the complications that involve lack of equal rights for our family.  Sure, it’s legal here in California, a handful of other states, and a short list of countries.  No, it’s not legal according to our country’s federal government, a long list of other states, and a long list of other countries.

The first time, that I know of, that she ever responded to the question of why she doesn’t have a dad, or the challenge of “a woman can’t marry a woman,” was when she was a toddler in daycare and one of her friends asked her why she doesn’t have a dad.  She was barely 2 years old, if that, and she told her friend “I have a mommy, momma, and wanda, and you have a mommy, daddy, and dog, and you are missing a momma and a wanda and I am missing a daddy and a dog, so everyone’s missing something.”

Sometime last fall or winter, when Moya and I were in Lucy’s classroom, one of her classmates asked us if we were sisters or cousins.  We said, no, we’re married to each other, we aren’t sisters or cousins.  The kid responded with surprise, “no way! Two women can get married?!”  We shrugged and said yes and left it at that.  The kid seemed happy to know it was a possibility.

I’m glad that Lucy’s figured out on her own to stand up for herself and answer questions about her family as though she’s simply reporting on the weather and I hope she always feels that confident about her family.

Crowdsourcing parenting tips

Posted on by under kindergarten, storytelling

Yesterday marked a year since my grandma died.  After she died, we talked with Lucy about how we keep dead people in our lives by remembering them, telling stories about them, looking at pictures of them, and sometimes seeing them in our dreams.  Lucy was a big fan of her great-grandma.  We took a vacation with my grandma when Lucy was 2 years old — an adventure in balancing the quick (Lucy constantly running) and the slow (grandma) — and Lucy loved the undivided attention that my grandma always devoted to her.

Lucy near her great-grandma's grave in Hopewell, Oregon (March 2009)

After Martin Luther King day this year, Lucy talked about death and how we communicate with and remember dead people.  She wanted to know why a dead person’s birthday is celebrated (MLK) if the dead person isn’t around to eat cake and blow out candles.  Then she wanted to know if we could celebrate her great-grandma’s birthday (since we celebrate MLK’s birthday) and asked if she could send her a letter telling her that she loves her and misses her.  I was stumped — have her write a letter and send it to the cemetary?

I asked for suggestions on Twitter and Facebook (because everyone knows that the answer to any question is on the internet).  I got some great ideas from my brilliant friends (who I didn’t identify here to protect privacy, but if anyone wants attribution for their idea, just poke/ping me):

  • Write the letter and save it. I kept a journal as a kid to keep my neighbor up to date when he died suddenly.
  • Since she’s already felt it in her heart, she’s already sent it
  • The cemetery might work, and you can call first and let them know it’s coming so it wouldn’t be returned to sender. If Lucy’s already ok with the concept that greatgrandma is “dead”, you could address it to the
    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dead_letter_office
  • Maybe you could say that when her greatgrandma died, her body went away but she’s still around in spirit because of how much she loved her family, kind of like how Lucy can feel your love for her even if you’re not in the same room. Since she doesn’t get mail any more, the way to send her a letter is to write it out and then burn it and when the smoke rises up, Lucy’s message will be carried to that place where her greatgrandma can read it.
  • 1. Mail it to her with no return address. Greatgrandma c/o The AFTERLIFE 2. Go to the beach or some place special and read the letter out loud to her and then burn it or bury it
  • Be pragmatic and tell her the truth — that life is without meaning and there is no point in anything…just kidding :-)
  • Oh Lucy I wish we could write to the dead but they are gone so they cannot get mail, but we can always keep them in our thoughts and deeds, like Dr King. And in a way they are always with us.
  • Ask her if she remembers what it was like before she was born. Tell her that’s where Grandma is.
  • I like the idea of her writing an actual letter. Maybe you could find a place meaningful to share it? My mom and stepdad have two trees (one for his mother, one for one of his daughters) and my mom has a birdbath as their spots. Maybe Lucy can find something that becomes a sharing spot and a box she/you can make that is her mailbox. That way, she can write the letter, she knows her grandmother won’t literally receive it, but if she can symbolically send it.
  • I also like the idea of her writing the letter. But I’d hold onto it in case she wants to see it later. No point lying about doing that either. Perhaps you can say “You should write the letter and when you are happy with the words, we’ll put it in a special place and if the letter can get to her, it will. Someday you can go back and look at them too. The important thing is what you want to say and how you feel because even if your great grandma gets the letter, she can’t just write back.”
  • It’s a lovely idea to write the letter and then save it for her to read later. If she really wants to send it……then I guess you have to be honest and tell her that nobody really knows where people go after they die. It’s one of the great mysteries of life.

As of today the letter hasn’t been written and she hasn’t brought it up again, but Lucy remembers everything and I know she’ll ask about it again soon.

I get the best advice from the internet.

I want to see BarackObama RIGHT NOW!

Posted on by under obama, preschoolers, president

Every day for past few weeks my 4 year old has thrown a mini or major tantrum that starts with the question “Are we getting on an airplane to go see Barack Obama today?” When the answer is “No, we’re going in __ days” then there’s yelling and sometimes kicking/flailing accompanied by “I want to go see Barack Obama NOW! RIGHT NOW!”

It doesn’t help to point out date on airplane ticket or look at a calendar and count the days because, as the preschooler wails, “That’s too LOOOOOOONG to wait!!”

I’m pretty sure she thinks we’re going on a playdate with a man she’s seen all over the media – he has daughters, after all, who are just the right age to be complete idols for a 4 year old. (Speaking of idolizing “older girls” we have a new neighbor who has a 7 year old daughter and my kid is already planning sleepovers with her – if you’re 4, then a 7 year old causes heroine worship)

Also, it’s not Obama or Barack, it’s BarackObama (all one quickly spoken string) as far as my kid’s concerned. She regularly corrects me when I refer to him as Obama.

I’m heading to DC early tomorrow morning for the inauguration along with my 4-year-old daughter Lucy, her friend Olivia, and Olivia’s parents Greg and Christine. My wife’s not going due to work and other things and we’ll all miss her and will do plenty of iChatting (and Twitter DM’ing and txt’ing) with her.

I am BEYOND excited about this trip – tickled that my kid will “see” the inauguration, thrilled that we’ll be there (in the freezing cold) for it, excited to have finally voted for a candidate who won, and hopeful that there’s a smidgen of a chance that this president will do something to give my family some federal legal rights.

I haven’t been to DC since I was 16 years old (in 1987) and that was on a trip with 40+ other 16-year-olds. I don’t remember much about DC except the Vietnam Memorial and eating lots of greasy fast food and staring at the White House. I’m sure I went to lots of other places in DC. I was more interested in having fun with the other kids – some of whom are still my friends today.

We probably won’t get much opportunity to go in any museums, what with the other millions of people in DC next week, and we’ll likely be a very well-packed sardine in the Metro sardine can on Tuesday.

Still. I. Cannot. Wait.

If I felt comfortable enough to throw myself on the ground and yell and kick like my kid, well, I might just copy her.  Sometimes she’s my heroine.