Parenting Pink

I love parenting, but somewhere along the way I traded in my 6 o’clock glass of wine for a 3 o’clock Xanax.  It’s stressful.  And wonderful.  And stressful.

I have the degree, did the career, married the guy, bought the house, got the dog, and had the kids.  We have legos and Barbie dolls and guinea pigs, and most of the time I think we are pretty typical.

We’re also trans-racial adoptive family with two boys adopted from Guatemala. My eleven-year old has Tourette Syndrome, and is an athlete with a passion for ice dance.  My youngest is eight now, diagnosed ADHD, and is a musical theater maniac, gymnast, and an all-out American Girl freak.

This is where I find my passion–in helping my kids be themselves in a culture with strict ideas about gender and public profanity. At a zoo field trip the other day I watched a group of Kindergarten boys punch and karate chop and yell things like “I’m going to cut your head off,” and I wondered that we were the ones getting odd looks while my young son held hands and sang Patsy Cline songs with his ponytailed BFF as my older son skipped and chirped his way through a bout of vocal tics.  If I’d had an option, I’d have gone for the chirping, singing, dancing boys in an instant over the mini ninjas.  As it is, I just got lucky.

If you found this blog, maybe your children share something in common with mine. If you know me or my family, you will instantly recognize us in these stories. If you don’t, you may recognize yourself or someone you care about. Either way, I hope you will read with an open mind, and get to know us through these stories as I attempt to help my children navigate joyfully and authentically through an unusual childhood. My hope is to contribute to the growing number of voices trying to make the world a safe place for every kind of boy.

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