Being home for winter break has afforded me the opportunity to play parent in some small roles. I have a seven-year-old brother and a seven-year-old sister, and I have been helping my parents out by taking care of them. On Friday I gave my mom a break and drove the older kids to school when they missed their bus and then got the younger kids dressed, packed their lunches, said prayers with them, and got them to their bus on time (well kinda, we had to run to catch it). It was so much fun! I dressed my sister in the cutest outfit- a purple sweatshirt with a giant dark purple snowflake on it and a cute skirt with matching purple leggings and a dark purple headband that matches the snowflake. My brother on his own picked out black jeans with a skull t-shirt and a sport coat. Yes, at 7 he is insisting on wearing a sport coat with the outfit. So trendy! Since he makes such a cute little punk I had to texturize his hair. And then I packed them lunches they would actually eat by asking them what they wanted . . . and it’s still healthy (granola bar, handi-snacks, carrots and cup of fruit for the punk and a clementine, gram crackers, ritzbits, and applesauce for my sister). My brother said the prayer before they all left.
Last night I read my brother stories and put him to bed. It was so nice to have him falling asleep in my arms as I read the story, trying to make it interesting and sleepy at the same time. I had made sure that he had brushed his teeth and put some things away first. After the story, we kneeled next to his bed and he said his prayers. It was the most beautiful prayer I’ve ever heard. He prayed for what he needed and wanted and was grateful for. He prayed for each member of our family by name and by the specific things that they needed. If I ever have children, I will teach them how to pray. It is one of the most important things I ever learned as a child- knowing how to pray for myself and communicate with God on my own. I’m touched my parents have continued to instill that powerful principle in my siblings and long to pass it on to my posterity. After prayers, I tucked my brother in and turned on the night light and he went to sleep.
These simple tasks, getting a child off to school and putting a child to bed, were fulfilling and brought me a lot of joy and satisfaction. It has made me want to be a parent. The problem is, I am likely not going to marry a woman. If I were to marry a man, should I have children? I think I’d be a great dad. And I think I’d pick out a great other dad. A lot of people have a problem with that though.
My parents think that a gay couple adopting children goes beyond selfishness and is in fact abusive, and the people who do it are “sick.” I, obviously, disagree. I am afraid, though, of the pain that would come from all the opposition they and others would provide. Sometimes I feel tired of fighting, and I just want to live my life free of scrutiny. If I were to marry a man, even if there were no kids, there would be pressure to have the perfect marriage just in an effort to legitimize it. (My dad told me that homosexual couples can’t last- he challenged me to identify a couple that had been together for as long as he had been with my mom. JGW was all I could come up with at 15 years, 7 too short. The logic, however, is faulty). So you can imagine how hard it would be to legitimize a whole family. Would it be practical in our current society to raise children in a homosexual relationship?