I went to a baby shower last week for a friend who is having her second child any minute now. She's American with 100% South of the Border ancestry blood running through her veins. A Jewish American hosted, while several ladies from India contributed to the festivities, including hiring a henna lady to decorate our bodies with temporary ink. (I'm top left.)

I love my son and daughter's public school and the mamas that come along with it. Our backgrounds are different, but our love for our babies are the same. We can talk about sex and religion as supportively as we chat about immunizations and the LA school system.

One of my friends wants to take me to her Muslim temple. I'd have to wear a  hijab to her mosque - the traditional headpiece women wear in that culture.
 
At six foot one, I don't need any more reason to cause attention to myself. "Look out! It's a lighthouse covered in fabric from Joanne's 50% off sale!"

And yet, if we don't grab the opportunities in front of us to support our fellow human for what they believe in, regardless of our own faith, then what is the point of even educating our children? Isn't love and respect what it's all about?

I'm far from being a saint. A few years back I had a fight that brought me to my knees. I am still reeling from the diatribe that came from my mouth. I was a jerk. And while I can't change the past, I can learn from my mistakes, forgive myself, and pave ways for new friendships formed through openness and love.

And, on days when my kids are driving me nuts with their endless noises, that Muslim head piece is going to come in real handy. I'll just hide a walkman under it and drive down the road. A cop wouldn't suspect ANYTHING. Unless he notices that the quiet reserved Muslim mama is blasting Johnny Cash. I'd gladly pay a ticket for that.)