We got a bunch of baby clothes at X's second shower last weekend. In fact, we've totally avoided buying clothes, since we knew people would buy them for him, and we're saving our money for things that people won't think of. (Although now Kate's aunt and uncle are buying us a breast pump. Who knew people were that awesome?)
There have been several failures in this process.
The first is that we've gotten a lot of clothes that scream OH HAI I'M A BOY. Now, that we got a lot of blue is not a problem. Frankly, we would have picked out a lot of blue clothes ourselves. Puppies? Totally fine. Trucks? Um. OK. He can like trucks if he wants. Athletics? They do realize that he's more likely to be a ballet dancer than a football player, given his family conditioning, right? A full-scale cowboy outfit, complete with matching hat and boots?
Well, OK. That one's a little awesome.
In any case, we got clothes that came from the boy side of the store. Now, I object pretty much on principle to having a boy side of the store, and to the assumptions made in how clothes get assigned to that side. But, we'll live.
But there's another thing.
X has a onesie that says "Mommy loves me." Actually, I think he has two. And he's got a third that says "Favorite things: Mommy. Hugs. Kisses." They are tremendously cute. I love them.
Of course I do. I'm Mommy.
In most families, these outfits are countered with "My dad is my hero." (Yes, I saw that one at Babies R Us today. Seriously.) "I love my daddy." "Daddy's little man." (I may be making that one up.) But we don't have a Daddy. We have a Mommy and a Mama and an Uncle, and only one of us is getting served by the onesie industry here.
I almost want to write on the "Mommy loves me" onesie with a Sharpie: "Mama, on the other hand, is a little sick of me by this point."
Uncle's vote is that we're shopping at mainstream/white stores; white people say Mommy, while black and Latino people say Mama, so if we headed out of the mainstream and into stores particularly targeting communities of color, we might be able to find Mama-themed attire. Or, at least, Mamá. He might be right; I'll start digging.
But, in a quest to fix things, I went on makeaonesie.com today and ordered these:
(Extra points if you get why the butterflies on the Uncle one are funny.)
I know there are much bigger lacks we'll be experiencing as queer parents. But this is the sort of silly little area where accommodation of different family styles could be useful. Not all mothers are Mommy. And if someone wrote that on a fucking onesie, I'd buy it.
