Yes, Child, Obama IS Black

I am white. Very white. I don't really think about race all that much. Then I had children.

And then, election 2008 came about. Ah, Obama. The first black President. My dear friend Hannah turned me on to educational placemats. We turn meal time into learning opportunities at my house. And as soon as Obama was added to the Presidential placemats, by golly, it was proudly placed at our table. "Who's that?" This is President Clinton! "Who's that?" This is President Obama! "brown?" Yes, Annabel, President Obama has brown skin!

Of course, we were pleased as punch. Our child has been racially diversified. Never mind seeing people of every race and nationality every single day of their lives, living next to the research triangle as we do. We now have it on a placemat in our kitchen. Now all we need are multicultural Cabbage Patch dolls, and we will be hip parents, on our way to teaching our child racial tolerence and the beauty of diversity!

Nay, I tell you. After making the drastic parenting error of going through the car wash with CHILDREN in my car, I pulled over into a gas station / car wash lot. I took Annabel out of her seat to calm her down. As we stood next to the car, my little two year old suddenly got wide little eyes, and started trembling with excitement. Surrounded by at least a dozen people, my little angel started screaming and pointing. "OBAMA! MAMA, DAT'S OBAMA! OBAMA! OBAMA HAS BROWN SKIN! MAMA! IT'S OBAMA!!!!!" Lest anyone miss a word of this, she's wildly gesticulating to every person who isn't as lily white as we are. I probably don't need to tell you that the Presidential limo was not in this parking lot. I stuffed her back in her seat, as she craned her neck to see her placemat brought to life. "No, I want to see Obama!! Obama has brown skin!" We should have bought the Cabbage Patch dolls.

Well, Don't I Feel Stupid

Children do not think like adults. Yet, I keep expecting my two year old to be logical. Perhaps this makes me even less logical than I'd like to believe.

Annabel has been a pretty good sleeper for over a year now. She has always gone down without a problem. Recently, she decided that it was scary in her room, and has started migrating to ours when Wil is working nights. I don't particularly enjoy sleeping with feet rammed against my kidneys, so I sat her down for a chat tonight. She said "maybe mommy unplug the light, then Annabel won't be scared." I wasn't sure how to respond. I said that I thought she liked her light. "yeah, Annabel can't see if mommy turns out light, so Annabel can't be scared." Huh. Okay. I unplugged the night light. Haven't heard from her since.

My husband has realized this, much to his chagrin as well. He's been asking me how I handle her being scared of a dog eating her at night. He's been putting her special blanket, that dogs can't get through, on top of her and checking the door to make sure it was shut. What did I do? I showed her a package of dog food. I told her dogs eat dog food, and Annabel isn't dog food. Haven't heard about that one anymore.