The Day I Told Someone I Have Two Girls And A Boy, And My Son Was Devastated

There are endless opportunities for you to screw up as a parent. Every single day there is some situation, some reaction, some word that you said that you regret. Endless moments that at the end of the day as you reflect on all of your mistakes you realize you could have done differently, more loving, more understanding, more patient. If you weren’t so tired, weren’t so overloaded with sports to get to and birthday parties to remember to buy gifts for and doctors appointment and school registration and…… as your list continues the list of reasons that magnify your chances to screw up become endless as well.

We all, as parents, have those moments. But one of mine that will always make me cringe with absolute heartache happened shortly after my son came out to me as trans. We are only currently about 6 months into this process, so this was {maybe} 4 months into his path of transitioning.

I was on a work call, and wandering aimlessly around my yard while the kids were all playing with their random toys that didn’t belong outside, that would normally make me squawk at them to take back in the house, but…. I was on the phone… and so they know, this is their chance to get away with murder. I believe all kids of all ages, shapes, and sizes know this offspring life-hack.

Mom said no? Well then, just wait until she’s is on the phone, and then…. ask for whatever you want. The world is your oyster once she has someone important on the receiving end of her cell. She will say yes, and if you’re lucky, the call will take just enough of her focus and energy that by the time she hangs up, she will forget you even did this to begin with. Kid WIN.

My son was currently practicing this little snippet he learned from the  children’s secret society we have no intelligence of (or maybe it was Pinterest, who knows where they figure this shit out): he was asking me for something (I couldn’t remember what if I tried), and I was waving my hand in the “go ahead do whatever you need/want be quiet this is important” mom motion. Meanwhile, the person on the other end of the phone heard my kids in the background which prompted him to ask about them. And I quickly responded, I have two girls and a boy, and continued our business discussion without another thought.

My child was off playing again with his siblings until the next epiphany would come to them to request from me before my phone call ended and their time ran out. It wasn’t until I hung up the phone that my son came up to me and tugged on my shirt ever so gently with a single tear rolling down his cheek. I thought for sure he had fallen off his bike or tripped on the sidewalk and had a boo-boo for me to kiss somewhere on his little body. But instead, he simply said, between the most inaudible but tragic sobs, “mom, you told your friend that I was a girl.”

UGH. Those little words, that devastated face, the wretched shoulders. In that moment I felt so small. So lonely. So undeniably AWFUL. I couldn’t believe I did it and I also couldn’t wrap my head around how intensely upset he was. It wasn’t an obvious visual or audible upset. It was as if someone had just died and the initial shock hadn’t worn off but the emotion was so deep. So hurt.

I’ve since explained in great detail to my son that I am determinedly trying and making a very conscious effort to change my language in regards to HIM. But, there are times I can’t get my kids names right when I am looking right at their faces! I call them out as their sibling, the dog, the neighbor boy, whoever’s name pops in my head first in my fit of fury. But to my trans child, when I make a (avoidable) mistake like that it cuts him on such a deeper level, and so I really need to be more careful.

I haven’t made that mistake in public or with an “outsider” of our family since. And after that moment, I don’t think I ever will. As parents, we always want what’s ultimately best for our kids and we never (intentionally or not) want to be the one that causes their pain. Ever. The excruciating hurt of that one slip was way too much. For us both.

Until next time… be the mom you want to be. Even if she has faults. Even if she gets through her day and promises herself that tomorrow she WILL do better, and tomorrow comes and so do the new day’s errors. Nobody is perfect, but you are trying. Always give yourself credit for that.

 

MomTransparenting

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In The Spirit Of Trans-parenting: Who Am I?

So… who the hell am I and why should you read my blog? I’m a pretty lame person, with a pretty average life. I’m divorced. Which just means that I’m part of the majority of the previously married adult population. And that the man who I swore my love, life, and future to years ago became my worst enemy for a whole year straight while we battled in court until the lawyers realized we were out of money, and then magically, things started happening and our divorce was finalized. Funny how that works.

I’m also (unrelated,… maybe) broke. Because of my life before divorce, the one with two incomes and no debt and even financial contributions into the family, I lived pretty comfortably. Now, considering one of those things no longer exists in our household, I believe “frivolously” might better describe my spending skills (I think they call it champagne taste on a beer budget). I have yet to figure out how to make that mature adjustment to my shopping habits and find the balance of my new income (or missing income), and when I do (hello, fellow Single Moms, share your tips please!) you’ll be the first to know!

I have 3 biological kids and 2 future step kids. Which puts me in an awkward position when trying to describe who these children are to me out in public. “So those are your….” Those are my fiance’s kids. Fiance implies that we are engaged, but because we aren’t technically married yet, they aren’t  technically my step children, and because I don’t want the side eye from you…. I’m just going to say “future step kids” and annoy the shit out of myself in the process. They live with me (us) half of the time, they fight and bicker with my kids like natural siblings do. They talk to me like any kid talks to their parent when they are pissed off, with attitude and disdain.

I get summoned into the room in the middle of the night during a bad dream, or requested to cuddle one of them when they are having a hard time going back to sleep. I make their breakfasts, lunches, and dinners when they are with us and I would like to think I treat them the same (or pretty damn close) as my own children. But, as far as the general population (in my experience) is concerned, I don’t carry the title of “Stepmom” yet, and therefore, they aren’t my “step kids”…. yet.

My ex husband and I do not speak and he’s not a part of my kid’s lives at the moment. Which I might get into more later but for now that’s all I’m going to say about that. (Let’s keep the sad/serious stuff for a rainy day).

What makes our family different isn’t the divorce part, isn’t the ex part, or the fact that we are two working parents, coming together like the freakin modern day Brady Bunch, except penniless and in desperate need of Alice to come clean our tiny house. What makes my story much different than most, is because my middle child is a kindergartner. And also, a transgender boy. All of this is VERY new to me, but my intention is to share with you along the way and maybe in the end, we will both learn something.

About 6 months ago my (then) daughter came to me with some pretty heavy stuff. She was 4, and confused with herself, and convinced that in her brain, she was a boy. She told me God had given her all of the wrong parts. She should have a penis, because, after all, she is a boy. She asked me if deep down, in my heart I know that I am a girl. Because in her heart, she feels like a boy.

Photo Credit: Trans Student Educational Resources

What do you do when your very young child brings you something so incredibly profound and ADULT? In my mind, kids weren’t supposed to know about this stuff. Kids aren’t supposed to be worrying about their identity and gender or sexual orientation. They are KIDS! They should be having fun and making fart jokes and messes they don’t intend to clean up and blaming them on their brothers and sisters proudly. This was so big. So life changing (for both of us, for all of us, really).

And because someone once told me that no one wants to read a blog post over 700 words, I’m going to wrap this up and finish up in my next post. See you soon.

(Find a quick link to the rest of this story I’m rambling on about here: Trans-parenting… The Story Continues. )

Mom Transparenting.

**There are some great resources out there for parents, kids, family, friends, and anyone that just wants to learn more about the LGBTQ+ community. Here are a handful that I have found to be helpful while I’m navigating my own path with my child:

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Mom Transparenting

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