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 kids. They are all mine, all the time. I don’t share custody so my shit show day is quite literally MY shit show and I embrace the fuck out of it.
My ex husband and I do not speak and he’s not a part of our 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 I’m a broke ass single mom with kids that can’t keep a room clean if their life depended on it. 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 child came to me with some pretty heavy stuff. He was 4, and confused. He was convinced that in his brain, he was a boy. But his body said otherwise. He told me God had given him all of the wrong parts. He should have a penis, because, after all, he is a boy. He asked me if deep down, in my heart I know that I am a girl. Because in his heart, he feels like a boy.
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. )
**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: