An Interview with a Fifteen Year Old

Three years ago I started an annual tradition of having my kids answer the same 20 questions in order to watch how they change.

My daughter Camryn is 15 years old this year and a sophomore in high school. She has changed SO MUCH over the last year. Basically, she became a full-on stereotypical teenage girl, with an attitude to match.

Ahem.

She knows all the things, doesn't need not one single adult for anything, is sarcastic about everything, and would probably like to have a pair of earbuds surgically implanted into her ears.

5 Reasons I Give My Kids Allowance

Whether or not to give kids an allowance for doing chores is one of those personal parenting choices.

Perhaps not quite as controversial as circumcision, breast or bottle feeding, or free range vs. helicoptering. But still a personal/family choice.

I've had the discussion with my mom friends and I've seen it debated online. Everyone seems to land pretty firmly on one side or the other, for or against.

Being a SAHM is Actually Easier

I think it is, in fact, easier to be a stay-at-home mom than a working mom.

There, I said it. Someone needed to, because really.

I can say this because I have been a SAHM for 12 years, since my firstborn, my daughter, was three years old (I worked part-time before we relocated from CA to WA). I had my son two and a half years later.

In that time I watched many an Oprah or Dr. Phil or The View, listening to discussions of work/life balance, tips on time management for busy moms, how to lose the baby weight, and and and...

I have read countless articles and blog posts on the topic of the so-called "Mommy Wars" (even written one or two myself), about how staying home with your kids isn't a real job, but if you work outside the home you're selfish.

I am SO OVER it. The finger-pointing and judgments.

Let's just look at it logically, shall we?

I Don't Think I'm Doing it Right

Twenty-one years ago yesterday my husband and I kissed for the first time.

We were drinking Zimas sitting on a blanket in a park.

I had turned 20 years old the month before. Mark was 25.

We don't know who kissed whom. I think it was mutual.

Yesterday, exactly 21 years later, I had to leave my husband in a skilled nursing/rehab facility.

Who Are You and What Have You Done With My Daughter?

Dear 14 Year Old Girl I Call My Daughter,

Every single year something changes in you. Often it starts the month before your birthday in July. For example, when you turned 14 last year you finally began having more of an opinion on what clothes you wanted to wear. You also got very into anime.

I thought that might be the extent of the changes for this age. Boy, was I wrong!

Everything about you morphed into something different after starting high school.

During the first four months of this school year, you went from being my sweet, funny, quirky little girl, to a full-fledged adolescent with an attitude to match.

Kids Just Don't Understand

There are many things in life that confuse the hell out of me.

The complexities of relationships. Many differing views and opinions out there. Health care reform. The stock market. Religion. Bad things happening to good people. Climate change. Why things that taste so good can be so bad for you. Other people's feelings. Some of my own feelings.....

The one thing I seem to have clarity on is my kids. Or is it that being a mom gives me clarity?

Either way.

I don't know if it's maternal instinct, knowing them since before they born or angels whispering in my ear (or a combination), but it just IS.

Like when I have to talk to them about something. Even the most tough things like about their dad's health problems, I seem to always find the right words.

There Has Been a School Shooting in My Town

On Friday morning, October 24, 2014, at 10:39 AM, freshman Jaylen Fryberg brought a gun to Marysville-Pilchuck High School, invited five of his friends to have lunch with him, walked into the cafeteria and shot all five, two of whom are his cousins. He then shot himself.

source

I was 3.9 miles away, welcoming my husband home from dialysis and doing a little housework.

A few minutes later the local news app I use pushed a breaking news notification to my phone. I very often don't even pay much attention to them. I did tap this one and read a headline about a possible school shooting here in Marysville.

"Oh God, no", I muttered.

And immediately went into GET-ALL-THE-INFORMATION mode.

I was holding out hope that the word "possible" would turn out to mean that that's NOT what happened.

Alas, it was true.

Ask Jen: Is It Easier to Raise a Son or a Daughter?

Reader Question

Asked by Tiffany (aka Kisma) of Sounds Like Life to Me: You are a mother to two, one boy and one girl, who is the easier child thus far to raise?

My Answer

Well this is a loaded question! But since being as honest as I possibly can is how I roll, I will answer accordingly....

Let's break this down, shall we?

The View From Here: Blended Family Bliss

For the second to the last week of "The View From Here", I bring you a man.

Lance Burson is a writer living outside Atlanta, Georgia with his wife and 3 daughters.

He's a published author of 2 books, The Ballad Of Helene Troy and Soul To Body,

available on amazon.com for kindle and lulu.com in paperback.

He co-runs the politics and pop culture site, Lefty Pop - Suckers For Politics And Pop Culture

and blogs at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.

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Blended Family Bliss

I'm terrible at taking compliments, but my favorite one is when people find out my wife and 3 daughters and I constitute a blended family and say "oh, wow, I could've sworn you guys had been together from the start."

The View From Here: On Being a Jewish Mother

This week's View is very timely considering some of the awful events dominating the news this month.

It's along similar lines as Keesha Beckford's post, "Dear White Mom", published on

Bonbon Break, and further illustrates how much we parents -- no matter what we look like

or what religion we are or where in the world we live -- just want the best for our children.

The piece below was written by Gailyc of The Madness of Joy.

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On Being a Jewish Mother

I worry about the sensitive soul we are raising, the little boy who is scared of bugs and wants them gone, but who cries if I kill them. My heart is in my stomach most mornings as I scan the headlines. I am horrified by the recent election results in several European countries illustrating just how much of a political uptick in anti-Semitism there seems to be.  The violence in the Middle East, the anti-Semitism that feels more visible daily, rattles me.

5 Things I Noticed During Our Kid Free Week

Being a mom is wonderful and honestly pretty much everything I hoped it would be.

Truly. I swear. No joke. I genuinely like my kids and think they're pretty cool.

They're not perfect. They whine and squabble and talk back. They don't want to do homework or eat veggies.

But -- and I know I don't even need to say this -- I love my children to the moon and back. And I know my husband feels the same way.

However.....there is absolutely a difference between having kids around vs. not.

The Time I Accidentally Pissed Off a Crazy Person at the Playground

The year I started blogging was the same year we bought our house: 2010. Spring, to be more specific. The weather was improving and the kids were playing outside a lot, especially when we were here painting before moving in.

As one of these pre-move-in days was winding down, I walked over to the neighborhood playground to get the kids.

AJ was only 4 years old (Camryn was 9 1/2) and not yet adept at sliding down the pole, so he asked for my help. Other little kids noticed a mom was helping with the pole and a line formed. So there I was, helping kid after kid slide down the pole....

Then there was this one little girl. And then her mother.

I wrote about this incident when my blog was a baby. It had a whopping 10 views, so I thought I'd refresh and re-share because it is something that still sort of bothers me, and I think about sometimes.

Spooked Ya

Fairy tale books and fantasy-filled movies feed a child‘s imagination.

Mostly fanciful. A touch frightening.

We assume it’s innocent.

The View From Here: He is Not Me

The week's View comes from Kristin Shaw of Two Cannoli.
She is a freelance writer, wife, and "mama to a mini-Texan".

She is also a highly respected blogger who has been chosen as a Babble Top 100, and she was recognized as Type-A: We Still Blog awards finalist. She was a 2013 cast member and 2014 co-producer of the Listen To Your Mother show in Austin. She was recently named a BlogHer Voice of the Year reader for 2014, and she writes for the Huffington Post.

Phew! I am very pleased to have Kristin here today, with something I for sure can relate to.

Choosing My Battles

The pearl "choose your battles" might be most helpful to keep in mind when it comes to parenting.

(Also marriage....seriously, why do we subject ourselves to these things?)

I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not in the habit of giving parenting advice. No, no. When I write about parenting it's merely to talk about something I've learned, and I want to share in case it might be helpful to someone. Because I am no expert. I'm just a mom, figuring it out as I go.

For example, I recently decided I'm going to mellow out about my son's sleep habits because I have bigger fish to fry.

I know, sleep habits are a BIG parenting issue, so how could I possibly give up that particular battle?

The View From Here: Tire Swing

This week's VIew is coming to you from Lisa of The Golden Spoons.

Lisa is someone I met through lots of blog hopping. We are also in a blogging group on Facebook.

The "golden spoons" are her three daughters, and she talks here about having to force herself to not be too overprotective of them.

Perhaps you can relate.

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Tire Swing

We have lots of wooded areas around our house.  In one spot , down in the woods, my father in law made a tire swing for my three girls.  With what can only be described a grandpa heroics (and a little bit of luck), he threw a rope around a very high, sturdy branch and tied an old tire to the end of the loop.  My girls love it.

dominique ap via photopin cc

Me? Every time I watch them on it I hold my breath.  You see, the branch is very high which means the rope is very long.  When they first get on the swing, in that spot directly under the branch, they are not too high of the ground.  But, just a few steps beyond the “landing” area, the ground drops off abruptly by a few feet, so, when the girls swing way out over this drop-off, they suddenly seem much higher from the ground and, therefore, much more precariously perched atop the swing.

"What if they fall?" I think to myself.  "What if they don't?" I hear myself answer back.  What if they miss the fun, the exhilaration, the time outdoors, the laughter because I was afraid of the "What ifs?"

Thus is the conundrum of parenting, isn't it?  Just like the push and pull of that swing, we are constantly letting go, pushing forward, and hoping they return safely.

We have a fierce desire to protect our children.  We want to spare them from harm and hurt - external and internal.  We want to dry their tears and mend their broken hearts.  Yet, we are simultaneously preparing them to leave our protection and, eventually, be on their own.

Tonight, I watched my daughter on the soccer field.  Her team lost, but she chased that ball and kicked it with all her might.  She had a blast and has come to really love playing soccer.

A couple years ago, however, I was not so sure.  You see, she is not exactly the most coordinated child and was, in fact, rather accident prone when she was younger.  The idea of her playing a semi-contact sport like soccer was very scary to me.  I was certain she would get hurt or, even worse, be laughed at or ridiculed.  She continued to ask and, eventually I gave in and sign her up.

Now, I watch her on that field and think, "Why did I wait so long? What was I really scared of?"  I just wanted to protect her, but the truth is that I was holding her back.  I was keeping her away from something that has turned out to be one of the best things she has ever done!  It has boosted her confidence and she is proud of herself.  It has improved her physical coordination.  It has taught her sportsmanship and teamwork.  She has made friends.  She has had so much fun.

And, I have learned something too.

Sometimes, as parents, we have to be more like our children - unafraid to swing way out over the cliff.  We have to let go and maybe even give them a push.  We have to trust that the branch is strong and that the rope will hold.  We have to have faith that the risk is worth the outcome.  Sometimes, we may even have to be a soft place for them to fall.  But, we can't let the "what if's" paralyze us.

I've seen this quote attributed to several different people, but it has always been one of my favorites and I remember it every time I see my kids on the tire swing or my daughter on the soccer field.

"There are two precious gifts we can give our children.  One is roots; the other is wings."

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You know I love that quote. I've used it somewhere on this blog before....

I don't think I've ever been overprotective. At least not to my kids' faces.

I let them do things, tell them to have fun, while inside I'm worrying.

I think back to my own childhood and remember how much more freedom I had than they do,

and then I feel like I'm probably doing the right thing when I let them go.

Get to know Lisa at her:

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*If you are interested in contributing YOUR View, please go HERE**

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The View From Here: Standing Alone

My good bloggy friend, Leslie Botchar aka RoryBore of Time Out For Mom
is here with this week's View.

Les makes me love her because she seems to GET me. That, and she is smart and wise and spiritual.

She is someone I have come to respect.

I don't really want to say very much; I'd rather let her speak for herself.

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First, a big thank you to Jennifer for including me in her wonderful The View From Here series. It’s been a great privilege to read all the posts so far. It’s a fabulous thing you have done in creating this space for us to share our stories.

Standing Alone

"Being good is hard.....and lonely."

This was not exactly the talk I expected to have with my son on his birthday.

Yet, truth.   It's not such a bad gift.

This is going to be one of those hard conversations. The ones parents stay up late at night fretting and sweating over.

How do you explain to a 9 year old,  often what a person does/says to you; says more about them, than it does about you? How do you help them understand the reasons behind all the "No's?"

No, we don't do that in our house.

No, we don't talk like that in our house.

No, that is not an activity we will be doing in this house.

No, that TV show/movie/game/music is not appropriate in our home.

Different homes have different rules.   That's okay. As long as we all respect and support one another along the way.

I admit though - I struggle.

Is it really fair of me to expect my son to stand up to all the boys who would tease him: for the personal choices his parents have made for him?

It's not a judgement on other parents. If you think it's fine for your 9 year old to have horror movie parties; that is your decision. Personally? Freddy Krueger stills scares the crap out of me at 40 something. Thus, I see no need to expose my son to that kind of gore and violence at this time in his life. (Please, I beg of you though:  don’t ever let the words “we just won’t tell your mom” pass your lips.  Not Cool, WannaBeCool Parent.)

If he chooses differently later; that's his decision. But for now, it's my job to guard his little eyes and ears. They already hear so much that they should not.

"Why are some kids so mean?"

Well.....that is the million dollar question. I don't know the scientific answer to that son. I can only share what life has taught me.

People are mean because it is easier.

It's easier to spit names like "chicken" - "pussy" at others; then to explain why you are threatened. Or that boundaries are necessary. Especially if you are too young to understand that you actually do want them. In fact - you crave them. And no one is giving you any. Sometimes all that conflict just churns around and causes turmoil, and I guess there is no other option of how to vent it.

It's a whole lot easier to stand there and put someone else down - than fix yourself. I generally find those who are mean, don't like themselves very much. And they especially hate those who DO have confidence and self-esteem. Sometimes when you are strong - you are also a target. That's a fact of life that just sucks. I agree with you there.

It's easier to just go with the crowd  - then to stand up for what you believe. Because who wants to wander the playground alone? One day you will figure out what a true friend is. Until then, sometimes it is better to be alone and be right -- than to stand in the crowd for all the wrong reasons.

Empathy.

Sorry dear boy -- but you will have to learn this. It will serve you well. Especially in those moments when you would prefer to Lash Out (because, easier!). Always remember, you do not know the entirety of another's story: It is sometimes not about you at all. Showing compassion is not a weakness.

I’m also sorry, that these lessons may not seem to serve you right now. When the battlefield is in the place where you should be learning and playing. All I can say is: Some fears you face. Like bullies. That's a good place to start. You will encounter them your entire life. That’s another truth the sucks.

Other fears, you just turn your back and walk away. They aren't real! In walking away; they lose their power, and thus any grip on your life. This also works really well with bullies. A bully craves the attention most of all. Don't feed the trolls son - trust mama on that one.

Life is pretty easy, when there are no rules to follow, and nothing to stand for; or against. That does not require any strength – just an ability to follow. No questions asked, or you might no longer be welcomed as one of the pack. And you absolutely should question THAT.

The route you choose absolutely matters. Perhaps when it seems no one is going your way, you will have to lead. You may be the one to start a brand new path. It will probably be hard. Not much fun at first. But you will feel Good About You.  

Which is Entirely Worth Something

It has value! And most of that value will be found within yourself. It will start like a tiny acorn, but if you protect it -- it will grow like a mighty oak inside you. This oak will be your Tree of Confidence! It's roots are forming even now. They will allow you to Stand Firm! This is what adults mean when we say things like "A Strong Foundation."

You may not understand or even believe me now, but this is how you will grow into a man defined by his own set of standards and values; and not by anothers' opinion of him. This.Is.Important.

For now, it is my job to guide you in this. To help you become a man of character. To stand strong in your Faith.

That is why there are "No's."

There will be a lot of times when you are tested. When you are tempted. A lot of times that you will fail to stand. This is okay. Even adults falter.

Again, why do we fall?

So that we can learn to get back up again.

Courage is not the absence of fear --- it is going forward even when we are afraid.

And son, you have one thing you never, ever need fear:

You are never alone.

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Such a good lesson. Such a good mom!

I told you she's great.

Please leave Les some love here and then visit her:

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**If you are interested in contributing YOUR View, please go HERE**

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The View From Here: Not a Failure

I  may be off playing, but the View must go on!

That's right, I am in California getting ready to board a cruise ship and if I were any more excited you'd wanna smack me a la Cher in Moonstruck.

I have left my family behind to play with my friend and I am not going to feel one ounce of guilt about it. I'm certainly not going to feel like a failure because I'm missing the 2nd grade music program while I'm gone.

A failure, you ask? Why would you say that?

Because it's what my guest today, Olga the European Mama, writes about.

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Not a Failure

Dear mom, I want you to know, you are not a failure!

I think I am reaching my limits. I haven’t slept for months. I feel empty and just so, so exhausted. I want to be left alone.

I have yelled at my children more than I am willing to admit. I said no where I should have said yes. I have nudged my little girl to hurry up, even though she just learned to walk a few months ago. I have found myself asking my children: “what do you want???” with tears streaming from my face.

Many times I have found myself thinking that I am a bad mom, a living, breathing parenting failure. But as bad as I may feel right now, I know I am not a failure.

In fact I think that I am a rather good parent. Even in my sleep deprived state I still managed to take all three of my children out for breakfast to a café one day. The next day, we made pancakes. I still find myself enjoying parenting, cuddling with my baby boy, laughing with the girls, teaching them new things.

I am even raising my children to be multilingual.

So I say to all moms: If you’re in the same situation, please know that one bad day (or even a few bad days) doesn’t make you a bad parent. In fact, if you worry about being a bad parent, you’re most likely a good one. You worry about your children’s self-esteem or what kind of adults they’ll end up to be. That’s a good sign, but sometimes you worry too much and blame yourself for pretty much everything.

Please remember: you are not a failure. You are tired. You worry. You just want to be left alone. You want to sleep. That will get better. You will make mistakes, but you will learn from them. And you will always be an awesome parent. You were never a failure in the first place.

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The point Olga makes about how if you're worrying about it, you're probably not a terrible parent, is very, very true. It would only be if you were indifferent, that maybe you'd be slacking in the parental department. Indifference is rarely a good thing.

Get to know Olga better, who is a "Polish mother living in the Netherlands with her German husband and three children", at her:

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**If you are interested in contributing YOUR View, please go HERE**

The View From Here: The Days

I am very excited to have Colleen of The Family Pants sharing her View here today!

Colleen has written some excellent posts that just grab you and make you feel like cheering. From reading her blog, I can tell that she cares about what's right, even if it's not the most popular opinion. So I knew her perspective was one I had to have here as part of this series.

If you are a stay-at-home parent, your head will be bobbing up and down as you read. If you're not, you will surely come away with a very good sense of what it's really like.

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The Days

When the opportunity arose for me to stay home full-time, I started dreaming of all the ways I was going to be the best stay at home mom ever. The house would smell like lemon cake and I’d shower every day and wear nice clothes and take my kids on Maria Von Trapp-like outings. There would be singing and I’d learn to sew and shit. 

This is what happened though.

There are days when I'm ON. I'm in sync with these people and they are in sync with me and we glide through the day on a cloud singing and dancing or something. It's awesome.  It feels easy. Those days bring with them the validation that I am not messing up my kids. Good days involve seeing my kids actually share (#tear) or hearing them sing a song together and help each other out. Good are the days that I run back to the bathroom when I hear the words “I’ll wipe your butt, ok?” and am at once proud of them for helping each other and terrified that they have taken it this far.

These are the days when my house smells like lemon cake and a bluebird chirps on my shoulder.

But there are some days that are downright awful, humbling, mind numbing and completely insane. Those are the days when I find myself staring blankly at the wall waiting for rainbow unicorns to appear to break up these two as they fight. Sometimes I find myself frantically making even more play-doh with that frenzied giant smile that I get when I am over-acting the happy.  You know the smile I am talking about, right? The one where your face hurts because you are really reaching? That one.

There are the middle days that have both highs and lows. There are rainy days and cabin fever days, funny days and sad days. There are days when you want to run for the hills and days when there is no place else you would rather be. There are days when I just can’t make another craft without wanting to pull my hair out. There are days when I just want to be alone. There are days when I never want to be away from them even for a second. There are giggle days and “NO I DON’T WANT TO!” days.

There are days when I dream of what they will be when they grow up. And days when I cannot bear for them to get even one day older than they are right now. There are days when my house is clean and days when every single dish is dirty. There are days when dinner is slow-cooking all day long and there are days when I dump applesauce into a bowl and toss out a few nuggets at 7 pm.

There are days when I wake up and cannot drag myself out of bed without an act of Congress and days when I fly up out of bed giggling with my kids.

Some days start awesome and end bad. Some days start bad and end with a mercifully soft pillow-like landing. Some days are as boring as watching paint dry and other days are exciting and full of harmony. Some days require too much T.V. while others are spent riding bikes and playing in dirt.

There are good days. There are bad days. There are all the days in between.

Most importantly though, there are days. Days that will slip by and be gone before I am ready.  So I love this day anyway. Even if it sucks the high hard one.  Because nobody’s perfect.  Not even Maria Von Trapp. Least of all me.

But then again, I’m not aiming for perfection anymore. 

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This right here is EXACTLY it.

I don't know how it could be described better.

But I do know you need to get to know Colleen better!

Go to her:
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**If you are interested in contributing YOUR View, please go HERE**

View from Here: Parenting in a Mixed-Ability Family

The View this week is from a woman I just recently met and decided I liked right away. Her name is Kara and technically has two blogs. She started at Wheeler Mom, but is currently focusing on her family's adoption journey at Roll You Home.

Do you get the hint as to an aspect of her life from those blog titles?

I'll let her tell it.

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Parenting in a Mixed-Ability Family

Around 3 years ago, our family was featured on the cover of New Mobility Magazine. Within the article, I bemoaned my failure to find one of those nifty car decals that represents my family. My husband and I are full-time wheelchair users. Our daughter is now an imaginative, dramatic, sweet, and sassy 3-year-old who will gladly talk to you for hours about Ninja Turtles, princesses, or her feelings on feelings. I’m trained in clinical psychology so it’s safe to say she is WELL informed about her emotions. What I didn’t expect was how she would start to inform ME about them-on a daily basis! She routinely tells me she’s excited, frustrated, or SO upset with me! We’ve mastered the naming of feelings-now on to the taming!

Back to the car decals…I can’t say I’ve spent a great deal of time searching. However, with a little effort, victory is mine! As evidenced by this trend becoming more inclusive, the world has obviously evolved…in some ways. In the end, I decided that I’m not much of trend follower. I’ll continue to allow the coating of snow sludge to adorn our van instead but I’m still glad to see images like this available.

Even 3 years ago, I knew that blending our unique family into the fabric of society would be more difficult to finding images that represent us. We are a trans-ability or mixed-ability household. My husband and I have Osteogenesis Imperfecta (OI). OI is a bone condition. It’s one of more than 200 types of dwarfism and results in bones that break easier than most. There was (is) a 75% chance that our child would have OI. To be technical, 25% she would have my type of OI, 25% she would have Adam’s type, and 25% that she would inherit both types-which typically doesn’t result in a viable pregnancy. We were most frightened about option 3. In the end, Hannah was born without OI. She does not have a disability.

As I’ve communicated this news or revelation in person over the years, I’ve found it far more comfortable to do so online. It lets both of us off the hook. To be completely honest, I’m not entirely sure HOW I want you to react. I, too, am happy that Hannah does not have OI. Here ablebodiedness is just as much a part of her as my OI is a part of me. There’s certainly nothing shameful about NOT having a disability and I would never want to change anything about her. Still, it stings when people let out a dramatic sigh and proclaim her a miracle. She IS a miracle to us but not because she is simply without disability. So, it’s definitely complicated and I see that. In an ideal world, I suppose I wish people would ask and respond just as they would to any other of her numerous traits.

People who celebrate the news that Hannah does not herself have OI are also missing a key experience of her life and that of our family. Hannah is still very much impacted by disability. In many ways, our family has OI. Of course, there are the negative aspects of disability that creep into our lives. Hannah has already noticed people stare. She’s asked why her classmates “talk to me like that” as even preschoolers sometimes have a disgusted tone in asking their questions. As a family, we sometimes take a little longer or go about things a little differently than others. Many of the parts of Hannah’s disability experience though are positive. Like any culture, we read books, attend events, and spend time with friends who share our membership to the disability culture. Hannah *LOVES* wheelchairs. She is a superstar at navigating chairs and cannot wait until she can start playing the inclusive sports programs her Dad leads.

Hannah has asked me a few times why she doesn’t have a wheelchair. It’s a part of typical development to mimic parents and in some ways, expect to grow up to be like them. Our family has worked so hard to develop and express a positive identity associated with disability (often against the stereotypes held by society) that Hannah has absorbed that message loud and clear. As she grows into her own body and creates her own identity, I also want her to know and feel that same type of pride. I found myself involved in one of our many deep, bath time conversations last week.

Hannah: “I just think wheelchairs are cool and I want to have one like you.”

Me: “They are cool. But lots of things you do are cool too! I loved the way you JUMPED while you were counting to ten tonight. It’s cool that you walk and it’s cool that I don’t.”

Hannah: “Yeah…[long pause] but I really think we should get a cat. I would name it Kitten Kitten and take care of it and Obie (our dog) would promise not to eat it.”

Obviously, my explanation was far too long but we’ll keep working on it together! As a child, then a teenager, and even during the majority of my adulthood as a woman with a disability, I’ve had very few models of parenting with a disability. All parenting though is largely trial by fire. After spending years finding things I love about the disability culture, I’m starting to appreciate parts of Hannah’s identity that I’ve never noticed before in the general population of nondisabled people. It’s not a betrayal to my own identity to recognize her amazing coordination and how she can take an incredible fall and just keep on keepin’ on. It’s OK to notice how she can just blend in as she joins a group of peers and to celebrate as she grows like a weed.

Developing pride as an individual in a majority culture is not akin to negating the minority one. Hannah is a living example that my cultural identity, too, is not about us versus them. I’ll admit I sometimes become frustrated with actions of some in the nondisabled community. I think twice before I lump everyone into that lot because my daughter-my heart and soul-is also a member of that group. In some ways, we hope to allow Hannah to see the best of both worlds while also appreciating the challenges experienced by both. She’ll be prepared for her own bright future in a world that is made all the more beautiful and complex by its diversity.

*Guest post by Kara Ayers. Kara is a disability advocate with UC UCEDD. Please “LIKE” their page to stay informed about news that affects the world’s largest minority, people with disabilities and their families. Kara is also blogging about her family’s adoption journey at www.ayersadoption.com. Follow her on Twitter at @DrKaraAyers.

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"A world that is made all the more beautiful and complex by its diversity."

Love that. I hope this is what we are all showing our children.

Please leave Kara some comment love and then check out her blog!