First Day of School, School Uniforms, and Social Lessons from Kindergarteners

school uniforms, equality, first day of school

Today was the first day of school. Yay for them, sad face for mom. Seriously, it was so quiet in here, you’d think I’d be ecstatic, but actually I felt terribly alone. But enough about me. Let’s talk about the first day of school and things that hit me like a ton of bricks today, shall we? Well, since we’re talking about things that hit me like a ton of bricks, I guess we (really just me) are still talking about me, right? It is what it is.

The babies had a great first day, mostly. Bug enjoyed every minute of it and Bubby enjoyed the first half. Apparently the second half was really boring involving sitting on a rug and stuff. Turns out, the “stuff” was music class and it’s apparently not his favorite part of the day. He had fun, he’s making friends, and I’m incredibly proud of him.

Now, on to what “hit” me. My kids are just fine without me. In fact, they flourish. That’s a good thing, really, but it’s somewhat hurtful in a way. I need them, I know they need me, but they do very well without me. Proud, but bitter sweet.

But aside from the emotional issues of the day, I decided I wanted to talk about something political. Uniforms and equality. If you know me at all, you know that I stay FAR away from discussions of politics, race, or religion. These are hot topics and I don’t like confrontation or debate. That’s not to say that I don’t have strong views, it’s just to say that I don’t like to argue or upset others. So I shut up. I mumble to myself, I have my opinions, but I keep them closed within me, because that’s how I was raised. Today, I break that mold.

My kids’ first day of school pictures will look exactly like their last day of school pictures because my children will be wearing the exact same clothes on the first day as they do on the last. Yes, school uniforms. Although I do hate the blandness of it all, I actually totally appreciate it. Not for my kids really, but for some of the others.

We “have”, others in my area do not. It’s not fair, but it’s a fact of life. I was raised with money. A blonde haired, blue eyed, “white” girl with money. Then I raised 2 little girls as a single mom. We didn’t have shit. They were lucky to have Walmart clothes for school. The playing field wasn’t equal for them, but they made do and they did well because they had the charm and charisma to pull it off. That had nothing to do with social stature, race, or anything really, other than themselves. I was proud but I wanted more for them.

Kindergarten, equality, equal rights

Today, as I sent my babies to school, as I dropped them off in their classes, I looked around. All of the kids looked the same. White, black, brown, yellow…the same. Why? Because they were all wearing red or white polo shirts with khaki shorts, skorts, skirts, or pants. No one stood out. No one stood in the shadows. Equal. There was no hatred. There was no racism, no talk of socio-economic differences. And they giggled, laughed, and conversed as equals. Because they should. Because they are. One child’s family might have more money than another. One child’s skin might dictate how society treats them. But in that classroom, in those same uniforms, they are equal and in that, I find hope for this world.

I see a lot of bad things daily on the internet, on social media, but today I saw peace. I felt peace. If everyone saw the world through the eyes of a child, if we all wore uniforms, this world would be a better place. Please don’t think I’m insinuating that racism doesn’t exist. It does and it breaks my heart and every fiber of my being on a daily basis. All I’m saying is that it doesn’t exist in Kindergarten. Hatred is learned and thankfully, these babies haven’t learned to hate yet. I hope they never will.

Zach Kindergarten

I watched my son this morning and I was proud. I was proud of the lessons I’ve taught him and I was proud that he doesn’t see color or social stature. He sees people, he sees friends. We’d all be better people, we’d be a better society, if we’d all take a moment to revisit Kindergarten. There are no barriers there. No learned hatred. No discrimination. Just love, uniforms, and equality. It’s a beautiful thing. I witnessed pure beauty and I loved it!

I’m not writing this for a political debate. I’m not writing this to hear how much better I have it than others (I know that I have it better than some, worse than others). I’m writing this to point out that children (and schools with uniforms) are so much better than our society as a whole. Being unique is flippin awesome, but some uniformity, some conformity, is pretty awesome too. Let us all learn from our children. They don’t see the walls that we, as adults, sometimes build. Why should they? They shouldn’t exist. They don’t see socio-economic standing. They don’t care. They see someone that looks just like them. In a uniform. They see friends…all around them. And they are so much more brilliant than we are. Let’s don’t teach them to hate. Ever.

If my kids never get out of uniforms, if they never see the hatred that society has created, I’ll be OK with that. I hope they always continue to see everyone the same way they see themselves when they look in the mirror. That’s the way it should be and I’m glad my babies see it that way. It’s time to stop the hatred. Hopefully these kids, our future, will finally make the change and this world will be a better place. It will be as wonderful as Kindergarten where the only talk of color that matters is in the Crayola box and all of the beautiful drawings they can create with those colors…together.

This Little Boy of Mine? He Owns Me Like a B*tch!

this little boy of mine

This little boy of mine? What can I say? Those eyes. That pout. That adorable face? Yes, I’m his b*tch and he doesn’t even have to try.

I was talking to a very dear friend tonight about her becoming a boy mom. *SQUEE* I’m so excited for her and her completely perfect family! But as the conversation unfolded, I realized that I’m my son’s b*tch. It’s not intentional on his part really.

He doesn’t encourage it, well I think he doesn’t.

Either way, it is what it is. I’m the mom of 6 kids. I should be immune. I love my girls (and my step kids) and they are all SO beautiful. So, so beautiful. But this guy? Something about him. The MINUTE he was born, I heard the angels sing. I knew he was special. He was different. But little did I know that this tiny creature would affect me in such a way that I would no longer know how to live without him.

He asks for something? He gets it. He offers “huggie time”? I’m all his. He wants to be a picky eater (like his Mommy)? It’s OK. He’ll grow out of it. He bats those baby blues? Oh my stars…I lose it.

If he wants something, even to get his sister out of trouble for her crimes (seriously, he’ll go to jail for her one day…bless his big huge heart)? All he has to do is look at me, with THAT look, and he makes it happen. I’m pitiful.

And he’ll grow out of his days of huggie time, and his deep need for me to take care of his every whim. I won’t always be his be-all and end-all. It’s already happening. I see him shifting to his new favorite…DADDY. They do have more in common…but *SIGH*…this little boy of mine? I need him more than he needs me. I’m just thankful that I have been graced with him in my life.

He holds my heart…and I’m his b*tch. So what! I’ll gladly be his b*tch as long as he’ll let me. Someday, he’ll go to school (like this year…make the pain stop), and someday he’ll find a woman that he loves and she’ll take my blue ribbon. But for now, intentional on his part or not, I’ll gladly be his b*tch and keep spoiling him like I do. He’s a good boy y’all. He’s respectful. He’s kind. He’s gorgeous. And he’s funny. He’s the type of kid that anyone would feel blessed to have. I’m just happy he’s mine.

It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!

I usually wait until December to start decorating for Christmas. I have to wait. It’s the right thing to do. We need to celebrate Thanksgiving first. We really should, and we will. BUT Bubby is so excited for Christmas this year that I caved. Last night, B pulled out the tree per my request, and I was initially mortified. 

MORTIFIED. 

My beautiful white tree had somehow yellowed, carmelized let’s say, over the past year. No, no, no…this won’t do. I was about to ask him to take it down and I’d go buy a new one. Until…
Bubby came down the stairs. He immediately ran to our yellow tree (oy…it pains me to even type that) to embrace it. As in literally hug the tree. He loves it that much. What’s a momma to do? The answer is: Learn to love yellow and just embrace the season and his excitement. It is what it is and if he’s happy, I’m happy.
Happy Wednesday y’all. And happy holidays. Let us all embrace and enjoy. Rejoice in the season through the eyes of a child without stress or worry (for a change). I’m going to try, even with a yellow tree. Will you?