Our son starts playgroup this week. This will be his first step into ‘the system’, and like many parents, I am apprehensive. For the first time, there will be a stranger changing his nappy, dressing him to go outside, and tending to him if he is hurt.
He picked up a toy gun at a friend's house a couple of days ago and asked me what it was. Such innocence will soon be a distant memory. From a couple of days' time, everything will be monitored and assessed, from his food intake to his ability to construct sentences and form social relationships in 'the setting' - I am yet to learn why they can't just say 'the village hall'.
I went to the playgroup's open evening for prospective parents a few months ago, not long after giving birth to our daughter. Entering the village café at 7pm felt strange. I was greeted by a sea of faces I didn't know and sat in the corner reading a brochure about the playgroup. When I say ‘greeted’, what I actually mean is ‘ignored’. It felt like my first day at adult playgroup and, to be honest, I was deeply uncomfortable.
After a while, some nice people came over to talk to me. And they seemed friendly enough. So why was I still so miserable? Perhaps it was the postnatal hormones. Perhaps it was something greater.
It is likely to be at playgroup that our son realises his family is different. Until now, we have got along okay. One of his mothers has always been there to jump in when he is questioned about whether he gets his red hair from his daddy.
But soon, we won't always be there. The family bubble will burst. Everyone wants to wrap their children in cotton wool from time to time, but I would prefer heavy duty loft insulation. With an organic silk lining.
I think that our son is aware that there is a ‘daddy’ in most families. He is exposed to this on television and in books, and pointed at my partner a few weeks ago and said she was ‘the daddy’. We have not hidden the existence of fathers, and all of our son's little pals have a daddy at home.
It is still unusual to come across a family where there are two women or two men as parents. What would make it much easier, though, is if people did not assume someone's sexuality. This was bad enough before children, but is now even more the case, and understandably so. If I am out with my children, people could be forgiven for assuming that they were conceived in the conventional manner, but what I find odd is that it is automatically assumed that I have a husband – 9 times out of 10, even if my partner is with me. I do not do this to others - perhaps due to a heightened awareness of different relationships - but more so because it is not unusual for a woman to be separated from her child’s father or unmarried. It must be even more frustrating for single gay parents.
The majority of forms we have had to complete regarding our children require details of the mother and the father. Once or twice, when we have said we are both mothers, the form filler has innocently asked ‘but who is the real mum’ so they can put the biological mother in the ‘mother’ box.
We have already had to put our son's family set-up in the ‘additional information’ box of his playgroup enrolment form. But staff will forget, or not know, or he will be spoken about as a ‘special case’. And children will innocently ask him about his daddy. I don't know what he will say.
Should we prime him? Provide him with a script? Or will he just say ‘Mummy Sue is Daddy’? I am not sure that he is cognitively aware enough to say he doesn't have a daddy and has two mummies instead. Maybe this should be drilled, but why stress his difference to him? It is our duty as parents to give our son confidence in himself and our family, to be proud of who he is and where he is from. If ever he questions his family situation, we will answer his questions with honesty and clarity. And without excuses.
Whatever he says in response to a question at playgroup about his daddy, I won't be there to hear it. Nor will I be able to defend him or protect him in the event of an adverse reaction.
I am probably worrying unnecessarily for the time being. In our experience, small children really couldn't give two hoots whether a child has two mums, or is raised by a pack of hyenas. They just seem to take this stuff in their stride. He has not had any problems at any of the groups he has been to with us, and our neighbours in our rural village have been brilliant - albeit we were a bit of a local curiosity at first. Small children are also resilient, and our son may be less affected than we fear.
We do not want our son to be treated as a special case. He will not implode if he is read a story about ‘Mummy Bear and Daddy Bear’. But it would be ever so helpful if adults could sometimes open their eyes over the top of the box and accept who we are, or even who we might be, without us having to explain.
For me, my biggest issue with playgroup is that for the first time, it will be strangers wiping his tears. For my son, the issues could be far more profound.