Mind Over Matter

In response to my Lesbian Lover post, I got some great ideas. I also got a really great challenge that is best discussed in its own post and prefaced with a direct quote from that comment:

“Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

-Theodor Geisel, aka Dr. Seuss

Did you ever just need to hear something? Or be reminded of something? Or get pushed out of your comfort zone? Or have someone challenge you? I get that way sometimes. (Frequently.) Occasions come where I get caught up in so many different issues that I forget the core of what I’m fighting for/with/about… and sometimes I just need my butt kicked in the right direction. And so, this comment, from Lee, really drove it home:

Kids are INCREDIBLY perceptive. You can’t hide things from them especially feelings. They can sense the imperceptible (i.e. your nervouses)

Munchkin’sFirstMom I read your words, that you are proud of your daughter and your relationship with her and her [adoptive] parents, (as you should be). It is time to live that. It is time to show that to Munchkin. It is time to puff your chest out and look people in the eye and say this is my daughter Munchkin and her mother D (or some similar iteration from above). Smile and if people ask questions maintain eye contact and answer what you want to and diplomatically dodge the rest because ultimately it is none of their business. It a way, you want to make them uncomfortable for thinking that this is anything less than normal.

I know this is easier said than done. I live in a small town too. I’m a relative newcomer, but they already know I’m a straigh shooter. I can be friendly and helpful, but don’t mess with me or my kids.

Yep, kicked in the butt. I can talk the talk on the internet. I can stand up for myself. For birth parents all around the world. I can tell you to shut your face. But when I’m presented with a face to face situation where I’m going to knowingly be uncomfortable and likely misunderstood, I get all anxious. (Did you just “hear” how I said anxious? Because I just laughed out loud.)

Situations like the library will present me with get me all tangled up inside. I forget that I’m a strong woman. I forget that I’m a loving mother. I forget that I know what I want to say and how to say it while simultaneously making people understand. I let my (stupid!) anxiety get in the way. And I’m not even talking about educating people, though that happens when I stand up and speak. I’m now having to stop thinking about what random library people think, how my stomach feels like it is twisted in knots and consider what the Munchkin is going to hear in my words, see in my posture and my facial expressions and feel how I present myself and our family.

Somehow that makes it a bit more scary. But only for a second. (Or two…)

I am proud of my daughter. No two ways around that fact. I may not be proud that I placed my daughter for adoption, but I am proud of my daughter. On top of that, I am proud to call D my daughter’s Mom. To those unfamiliar with our situation, our adoption or our relationship, that might sound unfathomable. But if I can’t be her day-to-day Mom, I sure as heck want that woman, that Mother, mothering my child. No two ways around that fact, either.

And so, I think it’s quite possible that the time has come that I need to suck it up, hold my chin up and say, “This is my daughter, Munchkin, her Mom, D, and one of her brothers, JD. They’re visiting from Philadelphia for the week and will be joining us for class today.”

I think, to be honest, I’m just going to have to repeat that in my head for the next three weeks. Over and over and over and over. And over again. I might have to practice the eye contact in the mirror. I might have to role play with TheHusbandManua. I’m pretty sure I’m going to prep Library MommyFriend about their visit sometime in the next three weeks as she already, vaguely, understands that I have another child somewhere (though she was at BigBrother’s birthday party but had her hands full with her own one year old).

Frankly, it could be a total non-issue. A mom with a set of triplets (four months) now attends our class and basically sucks up all of the attention and energy. (Rightly so. Have you ever seen a woman carry THREE infant car seat carriers into a room? Lordy that woman needs a sling or something.) However, I need to be confident in front of the Munchkin and just DO this… for her, for me, for all of us.

I don’t ever… EVER… want her to get the vibe from my words, actions, inactions or what-have-you that I am not 100% proud of her existence in my life. I’d move mountains for that child. And apparently I’m going to start by changing opinions right in my (new) hometown.

And so, Lee, thanks for the reminder and the challenge. And thanks to Dr. Seuss for reminding me that some people… really don’t matter.