My family, friends, and I used to have fun guessing what our babies would look like. Would they have darker features like me or a fair complexion like their Dad? But I wasn’t prepared for the strange comments, questions, and double takes. I found myself saying, “Yes she’s mine” and “No, I’m not the nanny, he’s really my son” to those who don’t believe that my kids are mine.
Now that my daughter is older, she’s beginning to look more like her Mama. She recently visited my job for take your child to work day, and many of my colleagues said they see the resemblance. After years of being asked if she’s mine, I am so much more relieved that I don’t have to explain why we look nothing alike.
My son, on the other hand, is a completely different story. He’ll be two-years-old in a few months and I don’t notice much of change in his complexion. When he stands next to his classmates, he blends right in. Whenever he’s with his dad, there’s no question regarding whether or not he’s the father. But, most may think I’m the nanny.
O and I went for a walk the other day when we ran into one of our neighbors.
“How’s your husband?” he asked.
“He’s good. I’ll tell him you said hi,” I said.
“Didn’t you have another baby?” he asked.
“Yea, this is him,” I answered.
“Whoa, he’s light!” he responded in surprise.
I didn’t know what to say, so I smiled and kept it moving. Yes, our son is fair skinned. He was born with green eyes, which has since turned brown. But, he is 100 percent ours. Sometimes I feel I should preface by stating the obvious to avoid the uncomfortable reactions from people. Then I realize how ridiculous that seems. Some people will always have a case of what I call diarrheaticulitis. There are those who just don’t have a filter and will say whatever comes to mind. I understand that it sort of comes with the territory of being a parent to biracial children, but jeez.
There is a chance that O’s skin may get a bit darker like Princess. But according to my mom, his ears and finger tips are very light. So the chances of that happening are pretty slim. Either way, we’re okay with whatever pigment he ends up with. In the meantime, I have no problem letting people know that I’m not the nanny, he’s my son.