Mommy's Fathers Day

Only four of the fingernails on my left hand are painted. Two of them--the pinky and the bird--are a glossy jet black. Those were painted by my bored, but well-meaning roommate, Lexie, as I hastily completed an online homework assignment with the other free hand. The other two digits were painted a luscious dark red by me (I never like the way plain black nail polish looks on me--all awkwardly gothic against my tannish-pinkish skin). The paint is already beginning to chip off in tiny areas. Its kind of funny, I think. I meant to move on to the thumb and then across to the other hand--I really had every intention to--but instead I made a birthday cake for a three year old. And it was a great day.

Yesterday my youngest--we'll call her Marina for the purposes of this blog--turned three. She probably won't remember the atrociously sweet cherry Jell-O cake that I quickly put together that morning, just in time to either be devoured or be ground into the carpet by tiny excited feet. And I don't think she'll remember the small birthday gifts we bought her with our equally tiny reserves. I seriously doubt she'll remember how terribly we underestimated her with our hiding spots for these gifts, and how she sneakily ruined the surprise by creeping quietly into my bedroom closet and finding them. But there is no way I'll ever forget the look on her face when she came running to us with the "Hello Kitty" playset and the baby doll stroller that had previously been hidden just inside the door.

"Yay! Thanks! I love it!"

She won't remember, but hopefully all of this birthday ambiance adds to the general feeling of happiness she has when she's older and recalling her early years. I know at least I'll remember, and not just because this was the first time attempting a Jell-O cake.

Yesterday was also Fathers Day. This fact keeping me awake thinking well past midnight last night.

I am asked often--every time someone (A) knows I'm transgender and then discovers I have kids,  or (B) knows I have kids and then discovers I'm transgender--how the kids have reacted to the fact that Dad is now Mom.

Its a legitimate question. Really, why wouldn't somebody ask?

The answer is fairly simple, but it can seem far more complex than it has to. It boils down to that little thing that family is supposed to be all about--love. If they feel your love first, they will love you and accept you too. My parenting story is not a one-size-fits-all story. Nothing about parenting ever is. Nothing about being trans ever is, for that matter.

So this is what we did, as two parents. I didn't demand that my tender-aged kids begin calling me something different from what they already knew. Instead, I began to change the way I referred to myself, and Lexie began to refer to me differently too. I felt it was a little much of a drastic change for me to go with "Mommy" when my four-year-old son already knew me as "Daddy", so I opted for a subtle change and decided on a non-traditional name, "Deedee". In fact, that's all my youngest has ever really known me as.

For the oldest, Jack, things were a teensy bit more involved. There were many trips to the supermarket, library, and whatnot that were filled with either confused glances or flat out disapproving stares when the children referred to me as "Daddy". I can't lie; That was tough for me to get through. And when you're still adjusting to hormone replacement, this all can be emotionally draining too. I'd sometimes get home and just cry from feeling so spent. There were a few times where I felt I didn't even have the courage to go out and deal with it anymore. But it got better.

Eventually Jack began to pick up on what we were doing and slowly he began to refer to me as DeeDee too, even using the correct pronouns. This wasn't without questioning on his part and a lot of explaining on our part--he's always been such a brilliant little guy--but in a few months he understood what was going on so much better. One day he simply told Lexie, "I have two mommies." And that was that.

So on Marina's birthday we all went to the theaters to see the new X-Men movie. On the way, Lexie reminded everyone that it was also Fathers Day.

Oh yeah--that's right--It is isn't it?


"Hey Deedee, you used to be a Father, and you're taking us to the movies on Fathers Day. But now you're a mother," Jack said.

It kinda caught us off guard.

"And there's nothing wrong with that," Lexie remarks, obviously a little unsure of what to say.

I'm silent for the same reason. And then Jack starts talking about a video game he wants for his birthday.

Of course Jack, almost six now, wasn't trying to point out some sort of injustice or express any type of sadness. He wasn't trying to say there was anything wrong. He was just doing what little kids do. He was doing what he always does--talking a whole lot.

Nonetheless, it kept me awake thinking last night about what it actually means to be a mother and what it means to be a father. Are there really obligations that fathers inherently have that mothers don't? Or are we all just parents doing our best to raise happy, healthy, and educated children? Am I supposed to be the designated one to take my son camping, to play football, or to do any other arguably "masculine" activity? Or do both Lexie and I do these things simply because its something our kid wants to do, and we love our kid?

There was a cute commercial a few years back for fatherhood.gov that showed a man who was obviously meant to appear as the man's man--a muscular guy with a shaved head and a goatee, fully decked out with fierce tattoos--getting has nails painted by a little girl--his daughter. This and other commercials in the campaign were designed to encourage guys to step up to the plate, put their kids first, and just be fathers. If your little girl needs help with cheerleading practice, its no unmanly thing to go out there and run those cheers with her--you're a father, and there's nothing more manly than that.

Women generally don't have as tough a time doing "masculine" things with their boys as maybe some fathers have doing feminine things with their girls. But one of the biggest things I heard when I began transitioning was--from both men and women--"Who's going to take him to do guy things and teach him to be a man?"

Gee, I don't know, maybe me. Maybe Lexie. Maybe his parents.

#trans #girlslikeus #transgender #parenting #fathersday