he's mine

Today was a great day. The weather was beautiful so Jude and I headed to the park around noon. We ended up on a swing next to a super cute Romanian girl and her son. We exchanged smiles and I made a comment about how big Jude looked next to her 15 month old son. Then she asked me if I was babysitting.

I quickly said, "Oh, he's mine!" And then she stumbled over a few words and the only thing I could make out was something about him being "so dark." Instead of trying to make sense out of the awkward mumbling, I gave her a break and told her that he was from Ethiopia and I adopted him.

It's funny because I truly forget that we look different. I don't say that to imply that I "don't see color."

I see Jude's color every morning when those big brown eyes peek over the crib and I run my fingers through his tight black curls. I see color every time he wraps his little brown fingers around one of mine. His brown skin is not something I am trying to see past. When I look at him, I see him for everything that he is, but mostly I just see my son.

This is all I know of motherhood. He is my son. I am his mom.

I guess what I really mean to say is that I forget that we look different as a family. I forget that for most of the world, children match their parents. It is in those moments at the park that I am reminded : ). And it is mostly innocent, like this evening in the grocery store. I was pushing the big "car" cart (how did people shop with toddlers before those things were invented?) and Jude decided he wanted to get out and help push. So what that really meant is he was walking about two feet in front of the cart, grabbing every item at  eye level. We passed a woman in the aisle, and I noticed that as she walked away she kept looking back over her shoulder at Jude. On the third glance, she stopped. I knew what she was thinking. She was looking for that poor little lost boy's parents. Once again, I smiled and said, "He's mine!" She laughed and said something about him walking around like he owned the place and I laughed, too.

I am so proud that he's mine.