unconventional

I hate when I get defensive. Don’t you?!?! I don’t like feeling like I have to defend my choices or my life or anything. Because sometimes, being defensive means that maybe you’ve made the wrong choices.

I got defensive today.

Katie and I were walking up from the beach past the little wash-off stations. Keenan was in between us…holding one or the other of our hands most of the time. There was a cute, sweet black teenage boy that passed us and talked to Keenan for a minute. Keenan was moving pretty slowly and at the last little shower station, there was a bit of a “traffic” jam. I typically don’t notice much around me because I’m too busy dealing with kids…and this was no exception. I heard Katie say, “He’s ours.” When I looked up, there was this lady who was looking confused and had attracted the attention of everyone around us. She kept looking at the teenage boy and then she said to everyone in the crowd, but mostly to Katie, “Well, where is his mom?” And BAM! Because she refused to believe what we were telling her, I was defensive. I said just as loudly, “I am his mommy. He is my child.” I think (I hope) at that point that she realized her mistake and she instantly began complimenting me about how cute, how sweet, oh, what a big boy. I just politely smiled and thanked her.

When we had walked away, Katie said that the lady had asked the teenage boy if he was with Keenan. And he responded no and gestured toward us. Maybe she didn’t hear Katie tell her that he was with us. Maybe she thought he was lost and wanted to make sure he was okay. Maybe she was embarrassed…because I had been carrying him five seconds before that and was still holding his hand when the scene happened.

Nonetheless, for about the next 15 minutes, I found myself upset. I picked him up as soon as I announced that he is my son. We stopped at these benches so I could dust some of the sand off of Keenan and there was a big crowd of women who were talking to him and looking at him. I wanted nothing to do with them. I wanted to run back to our car, get back to our room and hide away with my baby. And tonight, I started noticing the stares we must get everywhere we go…but I had thought myself immune to them…after much effort and prayer to let it go.

Sometimes I feel like I need to get a shirt that says, “Haven’t you ever heard of adoption?”…as an answer to the questions that I know might form in the heads of those who look at us. Or I occasionally wonder if I should start saying really loudly, “Mommy loves you!” or other similar things to Keenan.

But the fact is that I don’t have to defend our relationship to anyone. People may still refuse to see the evidence of our love…even when the proof is right in front of their faces. And that’s their shortcoming, not mine. (I do, however, feel much better after blogging!).