Wednesday, June 6, 2007
He's My Son!
Okay, I'm venting! I took the two little boys with me to the Nordstrom sale today. I got new sandals for the baby and then headed to the Clinique counter to pick up my order. As we were standing waiting a woman starting talking to baby guy. She commented on how cute he was and he did a good job of smiling and flirting. The woman asked me how old he is and then says, "Are you a foster mom?". I calmly and happily replied, "No, he's my son". She just silently looked at me. Sort of an annoying question. Next we went over to the latte bar to order a snack. As we were sitting having our treat a little old lady behind me starts talking to baby guy. He again smiles and waves at her. I turn around as she tells me how cute he is. Next thing out of her mouth is, "Are you babysitting him?". "No, he's my son", I reply. Two comments in 5 minutes has left me feeling a little on edge. I didn't trust myself to smile and be friendly so I turned back around to my own table. Next the lady says, "Oh, well that's interesting". Now she didn't say it snotty or uppity but in my brain all I could think was, WHAT!!! She said something else but I forced myself not to listen and just talked to my boys. In the first month that baby guy was home I heard many rude and intrusive questions. Most of these were from people we know. "What happened to his real parents?" was the basic question asked over and over. Each time we politely answered that we are his parents and then explained the poverty and orphan issues of Ethiopia. For some, this just wasn't the answer they wanted. They would try again, "Why was he orphaned?", "What do you know about his family?". Our answers ranged from polite to curt. We explained that some things are private. Just when I didn't think I could take anymore invasive questions they seemed to end. Now today drudged up all those feelings again. I felt myself tearing up as I sat at our table. I wanted to grab baby guy, hold him tight and yell, "No, he's my son. He's my son just like his blond haired, blue eyed brothers are my sons. It's the same. There is no difference. He's mine. He's My Son!". My good friend's advice for these people and their intrusive questions/comments, "People don't need to say everything out loud that they are thinking". Amen, Amen, Amen!