mortified to moved

To say that parenting has humbled me, is an under statement. It’s good to be humbled in life.
Being humbled is no novelty for me anymore; it's really a state of mind.
More than half the time, I have NO IDEA WHAT I’M DOING.

I used to say," I was humbled today"- like it was a good experience, or a much needed wake up call.

Now, I am a little sick and tired of being humbled.
Do you find yourself trying to be polite asking to change a shitty diaper? Attempting to leave gracefully after your child has had a tremendous blow out? Or has thrown up all over someone's couch? Or, has said Fuck in front of everyone?

Must it always be a reflection of us? (Emma said, "What the fuck" yesterday)
Hmm, that's what I say.

I feel like parenting is a true spiritual teacher, not to sound new age, but really, who else can make you show your ass like a toddler can.
I pray more.

My mantra used to be-" I am calm and in control". I’m 38 and she’s 3. If that's not humbling, shit, I don't know what is.
My daughter has broken me down. I had to have a mantra to make it through the day. Now she's in school.
My mantra is now used for my 2 year old, that poor second kid, always getting the leftovers.

In Atlanta, we had perfect weather yesterday. It was a gorgeous fall day. I couldn't let my kids stay inside. We walked to the park. It’s 3 blocks away and it only takes us a half an hour.

The park was filled with kids.
Running, screaming, jumping.... all different colors, shapes and sizes. Babies cooing in swings, toddlers sliding, boys galloping with sticks, girls on the see saw.
It was a sea of color, noise, beauty and insanity.

We live in a diverse neighborhood and go to a diverse school. Simply, we live in
Atlanta and I don’t think my four-year sees color, or nationality.

Jaxson, Emma, and a group of screaming kids came barreling down the slide. Jaxson got stuck under some kid’s legs and he was crying loud, I mean loud.

EVERYONE stopped to look. I grabbed him.
He was fine. It just scared him.


Emma starts yelling, “THOSE BLACK PEOPLE, They hurt Jaxson on the slide.
I try to give her “that look” to stop her from saying anything more- Then again, “Mommy, THOSE BLACK PEOPLE……”

“ Emma, Emma”, I try to stop her mid sentence again.

Not again, please! God help me.
I am calm and in control.

“MOMMA I’M trying to tell you, THOSE BLACK PEOPLE!!!!”

Can I run? Can I crawl under the slide and leave her? Pretend she’s not mine?

I was mortified.

Meanwhile, a calm, sweet black girl was standing beside me the entire time.

I had to confront this in front of everyone… what choice did I have?

“Emma, “ I said, “there are people with white skin and black skin and brown skin, we don’t say that out loud, it can hurt someone’s feelings and it’s rude.”
Oh brilliant! I thought to myself, well that sucked.
Another book I’ll have to buy.

Then, to my surprise the sweet girl beside me said, “ Emma, can I tell you a secret?”
“Can you hold my drink for me?”
Emma looked at her sheepishly, ”okay,” she said.
The girl whispered in her ear that she was black and that Emma was white and only the inside of people matters and that black people get upset when you say that….” Trust me.” She said with confidence.
Emma said, “Okay.”

I was speechless.
I said ”Thank you, how old are you?”
She said “Ten.”
“Thank you”, I said again.

I had a huge lump burning in my throat.
I heard it in my mind again,”Ten.”
Tears streamed down my face.
I slowly walked back to the park bench.
What a day.
Well, at least I remembered my sunglasses.