Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Who's the Mama?
Did I ever mention I look nothing like my children? I'm dark, dark, dark, and they are light, light, light - and by light, I don't mean they weigh very little, but that they are very fair. They are two blue-eyed, fair-skinned, light brown hair and blond boys that despite their dark momma, don't tan. All the Texas summer days has little to no effect on their skin color.
As a mother I don't care what color my children are, but I find that people have a hard time getting past that. When people first meet me and my boys, and discover that I am their mother and not merely their nanny, they just stand there baffled, aghast. How? Even my own family questions whether I am their biological mother.
"Did you steal him from the hospital?"
"Does he know your his mother? You must nurse him so that he knows, right?"
Seriously, I don't think babies are born racist.
"Daddy must have blue eyes?"
"You know, you look nothing like your children?"
Although, if you look past their caucasian features, you'll see that we have similar lips, and cheeks, and nose. One is petite like me, and the other has the same fuzzy patch on their lower back like me- definitely a trademark on my side of the family even if it's not the most desirable thing. And to answer the question of who has blue eyes, I have to say it's their grandpas.
Yes folks, they are the product of many recessive genes. If you look in the dictionary, under recessive genes, you will find a picture of them. So there's the story, get past it, move on. My children look caucasian, and I do not. Color doesn't play a roll in our relationship except when it comes to issues dealing with misplaced art.