I was tired. We were in the airport, after an uneventful flight, to visit the Sailor's family and I was ready to call it quits. Find me a cozy reading spot already, won't you?! We had woken up early, taken the boys to their sitter (a chore by itself, not everyone wants to babysit these two. They're huge), and made our way to our airport for an early afternoon flight.
I had packed my book in my awesome Little Red Riding Hood bag and as we settled ourselves into our seats on the plane, I told myself: I dunno why you delude yourself. The girls are gonna be jumping up and down and you are not going to get any reading done. But...I had to. You see, the book in my bag was an Anita Blake novel and it was begging for some attention. I had just left Anita in the midst of an encounter with some wererats and some vampires. I.must.read.
The plane took off and within 5 minutes, the Sailor and the spawn were passed out! EUREKA! All asleep. We use white noise at bed/nap time and the white noise created by the plane in flight sounded the same. It was perfect! I opened my book and escaped again into the world of Anita Blake, which let's face it, is an awesome place.
In Anita Blake's world, vampires are everywhere, ruled by Masters of the City in which they live, wereanimals live by strict rules and always look for loopholes for them, and zombies are a lucrative business. See, Ms. Blake is an animator. She raises the dead for a living, so that grieving families (and sometimes shady people with ulterior motives) can take care of any unfinished business between themselves and the deceased. It must be done within a certain amount of time after death, so out to the cemetery Anita Blake goes, and she takes care of business. Anita might think she does this because of her great work ethic. Me? I attribute this all to the fact that she is part Latina, Mexican to be exact, with awesome curly hair and a no-nonsense attitude that gets things done. YES!
I am sure, that by now, you must be asking yourself: What the hell is so cool about that? Well, besides the fact that culturally speaking, the line between fantasy and reality is extremely blurry for Latin people, Anita Blake shares some of my characteristics. I have curly hair, I do not tolerate nonsense easily, I am comfortable in my skin (for the most part) and I get things done. I am also not tall, which is a Latin thing. Put me next to the 6ft. tall Sailor and I look positively puny. But, don't let the size fool ya! I have a temper on me that rivals whatever boogeyman you got hiding in your closet. Hell hath no fury like a Latina, baby.
Because I tend to lose myself in my reading, the short flight was even shorter. I had to put my book away. Sigh! We made our way through the airport and finally, met up with the Sailor's family. After our round of hellos and hugs, we made our way to the baggage area. As we were waiting for our bags, I grabbed my book, ushered the spawn to a nice seating area and began to read. In this certain passage, it seemed like Anita was wrestling with what her place in the world should be, and that hit very close to home. I may have mentioned before that the Sailor is bi-racial, Polish, Slovak and Filipino, and I am Puerto Rican (a whole 'nother kettle of fish as Puerto Ricans have African, European, and Native blood in their veins). My children are what is considered bi-racial here, and to be frank, if they ever ask me where they come from, I am going to have a hell of a time explaining everything to them.
While I was reading, the girls decided to start taking things out of my Little Red Riding Hood purse and play, but something about this must have made it different, or interesting. All I know is, suddenly I felt eyes on me. I closed my book and began to look around. There, in the corner, there were some people unabashedly looking at us. Nay, staring.
Let me clarify, I am by all accounts a nice person, but I am no shrinking violet. I am also really good at reading body language and I am not afraid to ask for clarification. So, as I saw this group of people staring my way, I stared right back at them. Enough to get them all to look away, except one. He had a mission, I could tell, and he soon started to walk over to us. Call it instinct or being overprotective, but the she-wolf in me was not happy and ushered the girls a little behind me. He came over but stopped about 4 feet away, since I hadn't stopped staring him down. I waited patiently for him to speak and this is what he had to say: "Excuse me, but your children are striking. What are they?"
I think I may have stared at him for a couple of seconds, as he repeated the question. I answered: " I got you. What do you mean?" I was a little shaken, because there I was reading this passage and being moved by it, only to be interrupted by this person asking me about the very thing that bugs me. He went on to explain that he was there with his family and they were drawn to the sounds of the girls playing. He said once he looked at them, he couldn't stop because he couldn't figure out what they were. Why does it matter?? I thought about his question, looking for the best answer. This is what I gave him: "Do you really want to know what they are?" He nodded. Oooookay, "My husband is Polish, Slovak, and Filipino. I am Puerto Rican. They got the best of each of us." He looked at the girls again, who by now, were looking very curiously at him. He whispered, "Wow.", wished us well and walked backwards for a bit before returning to his group. I presume he shared his findings with them. Huh.
See, the thing is, after reading that specific passage and having this encounter, I realized my kids are totally like Anita Blake. Probably more like her than I am. They are the best of each of us. Just as she was the best of each of her parents(though I am sure she'd say no dice). One has brown skin, the other has light skin. One has curly hair, the other has straight hair. They both have more than their fair share of sass and prefer Monster High dolls to Barbies (Banshee actually walks around with a voodoo doll in her pocket; a gift from a friend). They are perfect in every single way. What bothers me is that they might wake up a day not too far from today, and ask: What is my place in the universe? Do I live on the sidelines or take an active role in something? Where do I fit in? Maybe, I realized, what I am really afraid of is that I am not going to be able to answer and that they will be disappointed in me.
The rest of the day went by as any other, we got our junk, got to the house, had a great time with family. But this thought, this idea, would jump out at me in between chapters of the book. It became this huge monster in the room and I had to acknowledge it.
Finally, after an eternity, I did. I thought about what I would say to Pixy and Banshee... and the answer is actually quite simple. I am going to start by saying, "I don't know. I have brought you here for my own amusement and you will deal with it." If that doesn't work, which I am sure it won't, I will say " You know, a long time ago, I was sitting in an airport reading a book...." I will talk it out with them and see where it leads. I might explain to them how I was always looking for my place in the world, questioning everything, and maybe how their Dad felt. Who knows? He might have something to say about fitting in too. How many Polish-Filipinos do you know that live in Milwaukee? 4. Just 4. I will also give them a copy of the book, so they get hooked but so they see something concrete of that day.
Sigh! I guess that is something I will have to deal with when the time comes, but one thing is for certain, I will try to answer it to the best of my ability and let them come up with their own conclusions. Because otherwise, I'd be teaching them that being afraid to question is ok, or that not pushing boundaries to get answers is ok, or that dealing with monsters is better than dealing with people because the monsters don't discriminate. Yeah, I like to think that Anita Blake would have a problem with me if I taught them that.
Here's to continuing a tradition of strong women who kick ass! Guess what I am giving the girls on their 15th? Thanks Anita.
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