Tonight I sat on the couch with my daughter watching the season finale of our favorite guilty pleasure reality television show. I was completely focused on the program in front of me, when I glanced momentarily away from the tv.
This is what I saw.
My daughter was carefully examining the position of my feet and trying to match her’s to mine. She had scooted herself to the edge of the couch so that her feet could rest on the coffee table. She had crossed her ankles like mine, and was busily making adjustments to get it just right.
To see the world through my children’s eyes is beautiful. It is safe and loving and inclusive. Everyone is worthy of being a “friend” until proven otherwise by actions or words. Appearance and background have no bearing on how people are perceived.
I do not want my children to grow up surrounded by hate and fear and mistrust of those who are different. No, I will not allow these things to mar their innocent and untainted outlook.
I am only one person, but I am a mom. I have the power to make a difference, if only in the lives of my own children.
WAIT. Before you scroll by thinking this is going to be a humble brag post about how fit and sporty I am, please realize it is not that in any way.
It cannot be that because I am actually not those things at all. In fact, I am a terrible runner. My “running” pace is not much faster than some people’s walking pace. I have never been athletic. Like ever. Unless you count that one time I played freshmen field hockey in high school. But everyone made the team. And I got cut the following year. So, no, that doesn’t count.
Earlier this week there was an article published on Good Housekeeping.com about a mother who cut open her son’s Sophie the Giraffe teether only to find black mold inside.
I am a huge fan of Sophie and have been since my daughter was born six years ago. I was not happy to hear people bad-mouthing her in this way. After all, something like this could happen to any toy that water could possibly get into. I also felt that not all Sophies were filled with mold and that it probably depends a lot on how they were cleaned and cared for. So, I decided to do a little investigating and said good-bye to our Sophie toys in the name of science. (Note: My children have outgrown Sophie. I’m not a monster.)