While things are going OK for now, I got a reminder that all is not as good as I would like. I try to remember that this is a process and I need to have faith that, in the end, it will all work out the way it should.
One of my kids had a behavior problem that required his teacher to call me this morning. #3 son is in second grade and an exceptionally a good student. Usually he has regular 7 year old boy problems at this school but this one was more serious. The teacher called me and I told her we would address it at home.
I knew she was working so I sent K a text message about it and then I went to lunch with some people from work. I did not hear my phone when she called (it was on the in-the-office-quiet setting). I also did not hear the 3 text messages she sent looking for more info. By the time I reached her, about an hour later, she was pretty pissed.
The part that matters here is she mentioned how things for the kids are going to get worse when they start getting teased at school because their daddy is a faggot. I thanked her for adding to my guilt (grrrr) and we finished our call. By the time I got home she was much calmer and we talked to #3 son in a rational way.
It is not uncommon for her to get very angry about something and lash out with something hurtful. The anger never lasts long and once she gets it out, it passes. That is just who she it. I have gotten used to that over the years. This time she picked something that was really concerning to me.
I do worry, a lot about the impact to my kids of having a gay parent. My younger kids are not old enough to really understand, older kids are. Living in this Bible-belt state, I know it is only a matter of time before someone tells them their daddy is going to hell. Being singled out for teasing (beyond what is normal) is another very real possibility. They might not immediately understand that Daddy was born this way, or why I had to live with integrity. All they will know is there is something different about their daddy and it's causing them grief. They will want it to stop, and they will probably resent me for it.
Yes, my kids will survive. They will not die, but will they thrive? Will they be happy? Is the extra pain they will experience so I can live honestly really be worth it? Will they think so?
I hope so.