“Mama, I want to wear my dog t-shirt. Like Wynnie!”
V is two-and-three-quarters, an age still measured in quarters for the last time. She’s a strong-willed kid, and I’ve learned to pick and choose my battles. I take off her dress and help her into a white t-shirt with the outline of a dog balancing a large, glittery ice cream on its nose. The same t-shirt I’d seen Wynn wearing last week.
“She’s my best friend!” V happily sighs.
Wynn, a little kid at V’s preschool, is exactly a year younger than V, an age still measured in months. The age gap seems a little large to proclaim best friends. (Besides, V already has three best friends.) I’m mulling over what V might mean when she says ‘best’ in this context, when—,
“What’s Wynnie’s mom’s name?”
My ears prick up. I think understand what V is really asking: Does Wynn have two moms?
I regularly talk to V about how families are made. ‘Sperm’ and ‘oocyte eggs’ (to distinguish from the eggs we eat) and ‘uterus’ and ‘dot baby’ (embryo) are all part of her vocabulary. At bedtime, she often murmurs, “Mama, tell the dot baby story…” When I get to the part about how she was made, she interrupts with, “Because Mama didn’t have any oocyte eggs!”
Of course, V is still too young to understand what a donor really means—and kids apparently don’t understand the genetic part of the story until they’re about 10 years old. But laying the ground work is important. Especially over the last year, I’ve made sure to point out that families comes in ‘all shapes and sizes’. Just as some families are made with the help of the donor and some families are not, I try to show V that there’s no single definition of ‘family’.
I talk about our multi-cultural, multi-national, multi-lingual, agnostic/atheist family: V sees her paternal grandparents every week; but Grandma Penny, her husband, Pépé, and Aunt Bianca live in Spain; and Grandpa Ben and his girlfriend, Baba, live in Bulgaria; and Uncle Theo lives in London. This means “far away,” so we have to talk to them on the computer. And sometimes talking to them can mean hearing or lapsing into other languages, like Spanish, which V is learning at her new preschool.
(And she’s recently started mimicking how I, with my British accent, sound different to our American friends and family: “Mama, you say ‘pahk’ but I say, ‘parrrrrk’!”)
I talk to V about how some families are different to ours. Some of our friends and family have partners of the same sex, and some have partners of the opposite sex. Some of our friends have light skin and some of our friends have darker skin than we do. She knows that some kids, like one of her best friends, have a cleft palate and sometimes need a little extra help; and some kids do not. Some families have a parent who works from home, like hers; other families have parents who travels a lot for work. She’s knows some of her friends have a mom and a dad, but some have two mommies, or one mommy—and I’ve told her other kids have two daddies or one daddy.
The kid isn’t yet three, so I never know what she’s absorbed—like I said, I’m just laying the foundations for future conversations. But her question about Wynn’s moms shows she’s now old enough to ask about families that are a little different from her own.
“Wynnie has two mommies, sweet pea,” I say. “One of them is called Jay, and the other is called Em.”
“Jay and Em,” she repeats.
“Uh huh,” I say. “You have a mommy and a daddy, and Wynnie has two mommies.”
“She has two mommies?”
“Yes, she has two mommies. You have a mommy and a daddy, but Wynnie has a mommy and a mommy.”
While V absorbs this information, I add, “And Wynnie has a donor… like you!”
V looks up at me. “Wynnie has a donor, like me?”
“Yes, just like you!” I add.
(And then I groan inwardly because, technically, Nellie is my donor, not my kid’s; and Wynnie’s donor is actually her moms‘ donor; but, oh well, better luck next time?)
But it’s conversations like these that make me appreciate being able to show—not just tell—my kid about the world around her. My various attempts may be clumsy, but, as with so many parenting decisions, I’m figuring it out as I go along. And I’m just glad to have had another opportunity to talk to my kid about a donor who helped create someone else’s family, not just ours.
How do you talk to your kid/s about different kinds of families? What do you talk about? Do you talk about how some families are created differently to your own?
Shirl says
Love this one Lauren . This is one of my favorite posts that you’ve done . This topic would be cool to ask on FB – talking to toddlers about how families are made . It’s special to me because of Malia”s adoption ( needless to say lol ) . We did the same thing , talking to Malia from infancy practically about how she came to be our daughter . At a young age she understand that she had a mommy , named Hue , in Vietnam ( her birthmom was and is always more of an interest to her than her bio dad was ). In kindergarten I remember she was concerned that her birthmom didn’t have crayons like she does or certain nice toys . Or she was concerned that maybe her mom was sad. We’ve always told her how, yes, her mom does get sad at times but that she wanted Malia to have an education and a life that wouldn’t be possible in Vietnam . We lucked out bc we got to spend quite a bit of time with her birthmom ( who was drop dead gorgeous ) while we were there and we could see how much Malia was loved. We always tell her that adoption is selfless act for birthmoms . Malia was being nursed and was a chubby , healthy , beautiful baby . She’s 16 now and still lives to see pictures we have around the house or in her special photo album . Her birthmom also had given us malia’s baby blanket , her little clothes , booties , a fluffy toy – this was all Malia had as a newborn. Look how we shower babies here with stuff . Over there it’s not possible (they have very few material items) but the babies are definitely showered with love. We’d tour around Vietnam and the people are openly friendly and loving towards Americans . They’re happy when they see Vietnamese infants going to what they know is a better life . Most can’t speak English but they would use a sort – of sign language , giving a thumbs – up and huge smiles , sometimes happy tears in their eyes .
Also I love how V talks about her BFF’s –so adorable !! Ok I’ll stop now lmao . I could go on and on …