All my life I’ve been a little different. Not like… ‘can’t be seen in public’ weird, but I’m socially awkward. As an adult, that’s ok. I’ve come to terms. NBD. I seek out other wallflowers and people who respond to “Good morning” with “The Pancakes were awesome!” But when I was a kid and I listened in while my best friend called the boy I liked to ask him what he thought of me, and he said he thought “She’s small, she’s weird and she talks funny” I was crushed. So how am I going to prepare for the possibility that my kid(s) will have a similar experience?
Well, for starters, they’ve got two weird parents who somehow made it out of this social scenario okay. So there’s that. This may make them weirder. Or it may make them understand weird better. In which case, even if they’re not “weird” they probably won’t be mean to kids who are weird. So they’ll have that going for them, at least. I don’t think teaching them how to not be weird is the answer. My parents weren’t weird at all and I still got “the weird” goin’ on.
I suppose my best course of action is to first accept their weird and show them I don’t love them in spite of their weird, but because of it. I’m hoping that just loving them for who they are is enough to keep them from getting too down when someone doesn’t dig them. And I’m hoping there’s enough weird kids that they’ll find a good friend who’s into them the way they are. And all that “Accept my children for who they are, let them blossom into who they’re meant to be” crap. Sounds like dirty hippie, too in touch with your feelings stuff… but that’s what we’re gonna do. Actually, I say “we” but maybe I should go ahead tell my husband that’s what we’re gonna do. He just loves when I tell him the plan on how we’re gonna raise our kids.
I honestly don’t even know what makes a kid weird to other kids, though. I know I was weird because my mouth worked as fast as my brain and I had no filter. So I’d say something that only made sense if you’d thought of A to B to C. Then I said C without including B. So someone said they liked pizza, and I remembered Friday is Pizza night and I respond with “Friday’s are awesome!”
And I know my kid does that, too. But no one her age seems to care, yet. Maybe that kind of thing is just more accepted than it used to be. Maybe the judgey little assholes have yet to emerge in her class. I don’t know. Personally I think its weird when she wordlessly crawls down the stairs in the morning with her hair in her face on all fours like the demon-y thing in the Grudge.
Sometimes she growls.
But maybe that’s me. It’s probably other adults, too, though. So there’s a lot of “Heh, yeah… that’s my kid” in my future. Oh well. If they know me, they’re probably not going to be too surprised by my kid.