Parenting

Rule #8: Mommy and daddy are regular people, just like you.


In a couple previous posts, I’ve mentioned how people – as in random strangers – become emotional when they see me with the girls or become emotional once they hear our adoption story. I am more than fine with inspiring people. I’m more than fine with someone saying “thank you” to me so long as I can simply respond with “you’re welcome”. After all, Chris and I knew that when we chose to be white parents to three black girls, that would forever be our identity.

But Chris and I are regular people just like you. We watch Netflix and chill (when we find the time). The Office is our favorite show. We love spending time together, just the two of us, without kids. I love having my coffee time first thing in the morning. And Chris is always trying to find a DIY project in our house. But we certainly do not turn water into wine. And I can only dream of calming a storm in my house.

I am not anyone’s white savior.

For all the pressure that exists for parents in our society- particularly for mothers- there’s another type of pressure that adoptive parents experience. Family, friends and even complete strangers gush over you and how selfless you are when you adopt. I cannot tell you how many times people have said that we have performed a miracle (literally told us this) or tell us that we are angels. Again, complete strangers tell us this.

If there is one thing I would ask you to do is this: please, please, please do not treat me like I’m a white Savior. I have not performed a miracle. I am not Jesus. I am not a doctor. I am simply a mom who said yes to three girls.

I am raising three young girls. I am stressed. And yes, I have anxiety. I become overwhelmed. I am not nearly as patient as I should be. I have more than on one occasion had a meltdown.

I need grace. Lots and lots of grace. And I need some sleep. I’m learning to be more patient with my girls. I’m learning how to say yes to me. I’m learning how to be ok with not being the perfect mother (as if such a thing exists).

All this to say, I am human. And I never want my girls to feel like they were saved. They are simply loved by their Mommy and Daddy, as all children should be.


If you enjoyed this blog post and want to learn more about our transracial adoption journey, subscribe to the blog! You’ll receive an email when new blog posts are up.

2 Comments

  • Strangers would tell us how lucky the boys were that we adopted them. I’d always respond, no, we are the lucky ones. Our boys made me a Mother. I’m the lucky one.

    • Absolutely! There’s something special about being a chosen mama. But it can also be frustrating and difficult when people see you as a savior or as an angel or as performing a miracle (all of which has been told to me). I didn’t save my kids. I simply love them, as all parents do.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.