Raising Biracial Kids in Today's World
Becoming a parent means a major lifestyle change. The days of spending all day or evening at event become quite challenging with kids, especially toddlers under the age of five. Have you ever planned the perfect outing for your kids, only to be disappointed by tears, tantrums & meltdowns? Here’s what I’ve found works for minimizing the meltdowns:
When I first cut my hair, I was really self-conscious. I had 2 inches of relaxed hair yet and I was tired of struggling with the two textures. After feeling empowered by YouTube videos and natural hair blogs, I did the big chop the weekend after my birthday. I was in utter shock and felt like my whole face was exposed-then I realized that perhaps I have been hiding behind my hair. Maybe that’s why India Arie wrote the song, I Am Not My Hair.
I received shocked looks from many people, but several compliments from others. As my hair has grown, I’ve developed a love/hate relationship with it. Today I’m on the love end of the spectrum. For those of you with straight hair, let me explain. Curly hair has a mind of its own. For example, sometimes when I try to part my hair, the curls are coiled so tightly that they close the part. Or, I try a new hair product and my hair looks half afro-ish and the other side has defined curls. The struggle is definitely real! As I learn more about what my hair loves, I’m also feeling more confident about experimenting. I’ve been scouring Pinterest for different TWA (teeny weeny afro) cuts for quite some time now, and I found one that I love! Short in the back and on the sides, so now styling takes half the time!
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I decided to write this blog because surprisingly, there aren’t many like it. I’ve had to do my research when it comes to hair care. Both of my girls share the same genes, but their hair is very different.
I’ll be touching more on this topic in future posts as well.
I’ll talk about what I’ve found works, as well as what hasn’t been as successful.
Since giving birth and getting back into the real world (braving shopping trips with a child), I’ve been asked the weirdest questions. One of which sticks with me. Is that your daughter? I mean for real for real, is that your daughter?
I was innocently shopping in Tj Maxx and had approached the check out counter. The young black guy proceeded to ask me at least five more times if my daughter was indeed my daughter. Never mind the fact that she was clinging to me and calling me mommy.
Then he finally said, her daddy must be light skinned. I wanted to say, get a clue! However, my shopping time with my daughter had expired as we approached nap time. I took to Facebook to rant.
I am a black woman married to a white man, and together we have two beautiful daughters, Melody & Daphne.
I’m 33 and have been married for 7 years.
Thankfully we live in a college town, so I don’t really have to think about the fact that we’re in an interracial relationship-I just get to enjoy being married to the person I love.
