The Inclusive Child

A few months ago, when the riots were going on in Baltimore, I took this picture.

noh8

I snapped it quickly and didn’t make a big deal out of it, because honestly, it shouldn’t be. Yet every time I come across it in my phone I smile. My daughter has friends of every color. She knows and adores adults regardless of how they identify or who they love.

We talked to her about Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and how before the Civil Rights movement, our neighbors wouldn’t have been able to get married. Or how the other two girls in this picture wouldn’t have been able to play with her or go to the same school.

“That’s just… dumb.” She sputtered.

Then we talked about how two of our favorite women are finally able to get married in a few months, when they couldn’t before.

“What does it matter?” she asked. “They’re awesome.”

She sees me watching the news and asks about the presidential race.

“You mean before him, there weren’t any people with brown skin to be president? And there’s never been a girl president??” she scoffs.

I can’t speak for the younger one yet, we’re still working on what the word ‘no’ means. But with this one… I think we might’ve done something right.

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$h!t My Girls Say – #10

$h!t My Girls Say are sporadic posts where I include things that Monkey, and eventually Penguin, say that is just… well… you’ll see. They can be funny, sweet, and just plain wrong, but regardless, I love the little mouths they come from. 

We tried to introduce Monkey to Star Wars last night. About a half an hour in, she got bored and started goofing off, so we put her to bed, saying to each other that she wasn’t ready. 

As heard from outside her room:

Monkey: *wailing* But I am ready! I am!

Husband: calm murmur in regards to it being bedtime. 

Monkey: *still wailing* I’m not a Padowan! Don’t call me that! I don’t wanna be a Padowan! I wanna be a Jedi!!

The drama is strong with this one. 

$h!t My Girls Say – #2

$h!t My Girls Say is a sporadic post when I include things that Monkey, and eventually Pinwin, say that is just… well… you’ll see. They can be funny, sweet, and just plain wrong, but regardless, I love the little mouths they come from.

(In the car, discussing snakes — her choice.)

Me: Snakes lay eggs, but their shells aren’t hard like the ones from the store. They’re squishy, and when they come out, the babies are like little adult snakes. They don’t need their mommy and daddy to take care of them.

Monkey: Oh. Like the little people on wrestling?

Me: (Here’s my thought process following her statement: She thinks Little People come from eggs?! Oh dear Lord, please don’t ever let her say this in public, I’ll die. Or wait, does she think they don’t need their mommies and daddies? No! I get it. She sees them as little adults. Okay, that’s not so bad. I’m not the worst parent in the world. Yet. Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh.) No, baby. The little people on wrestling were babies first too. They needed their mommies just like you did. *bite my lip and search for something shiny to distract her* Look, Monkey! Goats!