Hey- Great News, Everybody! Paris Hilton Wants Her "Own" Children

I just finished ranting the other day about questions people shouldn't ask and things they shouldn't say (see left sidebar and this post). At least I thought I was finished. Then I read that Paris Hilton was recently quoted as saying:

"Someone just said that I'm adopting four
blonde babies... That's retarded. No, I'm not."
Regarding the thought of adoption, she said,
"Maybe, but I want to have my own children."

Maybe, but I want to have my own children. There are those words again...

Grab the garden hose, somebody. Michelle just burst into flames.

Paris couldn't just say, "Maybe, but I'd also like to experience pregnancy," or something to that effect. And yes, I am remembering who we're talking about here, and I realize she is not known for thinking before she speaks (or for thinking... period). But I wouldn't be ready to spontaneously combust over a statement like that, because I understand that bajillions of women have felt exactly the same way. The experience of pregnancy is a very natural thing to want or wonder about.

But, she didn't say that. She said "my own..."
Why do people insist on using this phrase and others like it?

My own, your own, real parents, real kids, adopted...

Why are all these labels so important to us, especially to those in the media? This seriously drives me up the wall. It honestly hurts me when I hear it, even when it's directed at someone else's child. Does this stem from the fact that I'm an adoptee, too? I don't know. Am I being too sensitive about it? Maybe. But I definitely think the media, and sometimes the general population aren't being sensitive enough.

This categorizing that the media insists upon doing works both ways. Meaning, not only do they always point out when a child is "your own," but they also love to make it clear when he's not, through the nauseating overuse of the word "adopted." Tom Cruise can't just have three children. He has one of his own with Katie Holmes and two adopted with Nicole Kidman. Meg Ryan has an adopted daughter, not just a daughter, and so on. She's had that kid for years now... When does she just get to have a daughter, for Pete's sake? What does the media worry will happen if they forget to make that distinction just once? Will we, the stupid public, become confused and accidentally think this child actually IS Meg Ryan's? Oh, no. That would be... Well... accurate. That would be accurate.

You hear it everywhere. There's no getting away from it, but still... It makes me crazy.

Of course, we can't expect much from poor Paris Hilton. I'm just proud of that poor baby if she manages to be photographed with most of her naughty bits covered (and by the way, does anyone else immediately think "sign-of-the-apocalype" when they think of Paris Hilton being someone's mom?).

One day out with my family in a Chinese restaurant, a very sweet, elderly hostess came over to our table to fuss over the kids. She wanted to know how many of these were my own. I understood what she meant, and her intentions were good, so I tried to quickly say that they are all my own children and leave it at that. Her English wasn't great and she wasn't understanding me. I told her Bri was born in China, and has been a part of our family for five years. Umm... No. Not gonna work. My answer wasn't what she wanted, so she thought I wasn't understanding her. She kept at it, repeating the phrase "your own," trying to help me understand what she was asking me. Finally, to put an end to it- I gave her the information she wanted; that, yes, Brianna is my only adopted child, and the rest are my own. She smiled and nodded, satisfied that I finally gave her the answer she was looking for. I hated doing that. It felt like a defeat. A surrender. I caved. And there was Bri, sitting right there, listening to her mommy put her, and her alone, in the "adopted/not my own" category. I felt sick. Not over saying she's adopted. Of course she knows that. We use the word all the time. But because the only two choices I was given were either adopted, or my own. To place her in one category, meant removing her from the other. It felt like a betrayal of who she really is and what she really means to me. She is my own. I have no problem telling people she was adopted from China, and often do. But I never, ever introduce her as my adopted daughter. NEVER. I never separate my kids into two different groups in my heart, or in my mind, and I hated feeling pushed to do so just to satisfy the curiosity of a stranger.

Anyway, back to Paris and the thought that she will adopt, "maybe," after having her own... I bet I speak for others in the adoption community when I say, thank God it's only a "maybe." I hope she sticks with chihuahuas (Besides, can you even imagine what that home study would be like?).

Thanks for letting me rant a little (again) about this. I realize that I'm kind of preaching to the choir here, and the people that probably need to hear this most, won't. At least I don't think Paris is one of my readers... It still helps though because, if I can vent here, then hopefully I can continue to avoid unloading on sweet little hostesses in Chinese restaurants.