True Bearing

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Condoms, tampons, sex, childbirth, wet dreams, masturabation, erections, periods, the meaning of swear words, addiction, cancer, death...all these topics (and more) are open for discussion in our house. Since the beginning of our career as parents, our philosophy has been to be open and honest with our children. We don't go out of our way to tell them every truth we know, but when they ask, we answer.

Our open house has served us well thus far: our conversations about sex, puberty, money, disease and death are fairly free of awkwardness and embarrassment, and have a real-ness about them that mitigates fear and normalizes uncertainty. Our children are empowered when they know the meaning of a word, how Jack's baby brother got here, or what that white cylinder is in mommy's purse. The stage has been set for when they get older and their lives get more complicated: If we trust them with big stuff, they can trust us with big stuff.

As parents, we can get caught up thinking our job is to protect our children from the truth. We try hard not to lie to Pip and Phoebe, mask what we feel, nor shush their questions. We do our best to bear the truth alongside them. We practice inviting in the unknown, letting uncertainty live among us; acknowledging painful truths without having to fix them; making amends; taking risks in the face of fear; and looking for roads less travelled.

When we picked Phoebe up on Friday, she shared with us that her feelings had been hurt at school. She explained: "When I was coming out of the bathroom, one of the preschool teachers asked me, 'Is that a girl there?' I said 'Yes.' I mean...doesn't she know I can see the sign?...Doesn't she know I can read?"

Here is where Roo and I have to bear the truth alongside her. It's not about her teacher wondering if she can read, it's about her wondering why a child with short hair, long shorts, and her brother's hand-me-down t-shirt is coming out of the girls bathroom? We explain this to her, and that the teacher was wrong to ask her the question (and that we will be contacting the school!). Because we have had many honest (not always easy) conversations about gender roles in our society, and how some people are less open and accepting than others, Phoebe, at least, has some context to draw from when she comes up against experiences like this (which happen all the time, by the way). Although Roo and I cannot prevent experiences like this from happening to Phoebe, we can address them with her as they come up; we can stand by her as she navigates living in her truth by empowering her choices to have her hair short and wear clothes she feels comfortable in; and we can embrace her courage to walk to the beat of her own drum.

Is there a part of me who wants to say "no" when she asks to get her haircut like her brother's again? Yes, the part of me that wants to protect her from people who question, or even look down on, her sweet, beautiful, strong choices; but this part of me grows less each day I witness Phoebe being herself. Protecting this space for her will serve her better than protecting her from hard truths. My intention is to keep my stuff and other people's stuff out of her way. I still catch myself trying to get her to wear short shorts (I realize I must be one of the few parents advocating for shorter), but I try to make amends when I do.

Talking about gender roles or the definition of f*#k pale in comparison to the question I was faced with out of the blue yesterday: The four of us were on the boat, enjoying some reprieve from the heat when Phoebe shared with me that a boy in her class was told by his parents that Santa Claus isn't real. Used to this kind of comment from Pip and Phoebe, I replied "Oh, I feel badly they don't believe in the magic of Christmas."

But I wasn't prepared for what came next. She turned her head to look at me: "Haskel says his parents are Santa Claus. Are you and Daddy Santa Claus, Mommy?" Pip, three years her senior, has never asked us outright if Santa is real.

"Yes," I said, "we are." The moment it left my lips, I felt the let down--I could see it in her face. I'm not sure who felt more sad in that moment: me or Phoebe.

"Really?" she pleaded.

Desperate, I recruited Roo, and Pip wandered back to the stern to listen in. I relayed Phoebe's question and my answer. Pip was quiet, but looked sullen. Roo's eyes reflected the same disappointment as his daughter's. "I'm not prepared for this," he said.

"Well, neither am I," I replied truthfully.

Phoebe looked straight at Roo: "Did you or Santa buy my Fresh Mart last Christmas?" Roo repeated the question and looked at me. Neither of us knew what to say or do. Part of me wanted to cover it all up, and exclaim, 'Don't be silly, of course it was Santa Claus who bought you the Fresh Mart,' but our family motto kept repeating itself in my head: when they ask, we answer.

"We did," Roo said, sadly.

Everyone got quiet and our attention wandered to the horizon above the hum of the engine.

Today, Phoebe came running into my office: "Mom, guess what?"

"What?" I asked.

"Avery wants to cut her hair just like mine!"

"She does?"

"Yea! I told her she should do it, but to watch out for bed head!" she said, beaming.

As always, thank you for reading,
Georgia

P.S. THREE THINGS:

  1. Wednesday at 630pm ET is our next Blue Light Discussion on the invisible forces at play in our lives. Please register ahead of time. Discussions are free and open to everyone.

  2. Introduction to CAKE and Introduction to Blue Light Yoga are happening next month: both are 3-week series that assume no prior experience. These are the perfect entry points for you to start a practice on your mat.

  3. Our January retreat in Peru Vermont at Seesaw's Lodge is SOLD OUT! Would you like to join me in Costa Rica next spring instead???!!!! Email me if you're interested.

Veronica Brown