The Pretty Baby Syndrome

I just read this post about a woman part of an interracial couple who keeps getting the comment, "you'll have such beautiful babies."

She brings up interesting points about race I'd never considered before. Being mixed myself, and part of an interracial couple with an interracial child of my own, I have to say I'm a little biased. I have made the beautiful comment to other people before. Without thinking about colour, I really do think mixed kids/people are some of the most attractive people out there. They just seem to get the best of both genes. I never saw it as beautiful simply because it "whitens" the features, as the author seems to take offence to. I think they're beautiful because they don't look "boring" like everyone else. They stick out just a little and I like the differences.

I don't think it only applies to white/black couples either, but Asian, Latino, whatever, it doesn't matter. Sometimes even just the mix of say, Swedish and Irish can be "exotic."

Being mixed, I don't think I really have a preference for white over black. I'm more interested in the qualities of the person.

In the end, you never know how the kid is going to turn out, colour-wise. I would have liked it if my son had at least a bit more colour to him, but I have no control over that. I still think he's beautiful and I'm sure he'll have beautiful babies one day.

Here's a photo series of interracial celebrity couples, many I never even knew existed!  

He's MINE!

I'm aware I could be more sensitive because of my secondary infertility background - it took many years, lots of tests, pain, tears, money and effort to have our son.

I'll also admit I might be a bit more sensitive since even though my son resembles and acts like me, he's white. So I don't like it when we go out and people ask, 'who's child is that?' and someone else jokingly pipes up, 'mine.'
Because often, the other person is white, and therefore other people believe them.

I am very proud of my son. He was a real labour of love. I carried him, I bled, I wept, I birthed him. Please don't take credit for my creation. He's mine.

I'm Not The Babysitter - Really

It happened.

Someone thought I was the babysitter today at the playgroup. When I said, "I'm not babysitting, this is my son!" she said, "oh, he looks like his father then." Has she seen his father? No.

Forget the fact Baby has my eyes, my nose, my lips and my ears, he's just a different colour, that's all! And I should probably take it as a compliment that I am right back down to my pre-pregnancy weight; I don't look like someone who just gave birth four months ago. Still, that's no reason to assume I'm not the mommy.

The good thing that came out of it was as it was my first time there, I didn't realize the group seemed to be divided into two cliques: the real mommies and the babysitters. After I yelled out in indignation that Baby was my son, the real mommies started talking to me. Baby made a new girlfriend with a nine month old (he likes older chicks) who was half Japanese, half white (seems a taste for the mixed girls runs in the family). She showered him with sloppy kisses while he smiled like crazy.

I knew it would happen eventually though.

I am of mixed heritage myself. My father is Barbadian and my mother is French-Canadian. As she was a white woman, walking around with two little black babies, people would ask her from where we were adopted from or if she was babysitting and so on. I remember it used to make her cry sometimes. Not out in public, but she would get tears in her eyes replaying the conversation at home. I'm not sure she ever got over the fact her children don't really look like her. (Which is not totally true - my sister looks quite a bit like her. The colour is wrong, yes, but the features are there. You just have to LOOK BEYOND colour.)

I married a white Canadian, of German and Irish heritage, so our child is only 1/4 black. Of course I knew people might be confused when they see me and my son together. I told my mom and she laughed, saying she thought people would have changed by now, but I guess they haven't.

I was a little surprised, but I'm not upset. I do not mind that I don't have the same colour as my son. I know he is mine and he knows I'm his, so that's all that matters. What is probably most comforting to me is that growing up and hearing those ignorant comments from total strangers telling my mom I must be adopted never made me doubt where I came from. Kids don't see colour. I loved my mom regardless and I thought the strangers were total crazies. And I hope my baby thinks exactly like I do.