November 20, 2009

The Odd Ones

My last post brought to mind an article I published some years back, about... well... you'll see. Bear in mind it was written before Toddler was born. She's so totally whack she makes the others look like characters from Little House On The Prairie.

Sara, a little girl I know, insists on drinking out of a three- by two-inch shot glass. If you give her a drink in a regular cup, she pours it into the shot glass and drinks it mouthful by mouthful. Sara speaks with a broad Hungarian accent, despite the fact that she was born in Australia and has no living Hungarian relatives. She also responds only when addressed by the name ‘Pinkela’, a term she bestowed upon herself.

Okay, Sara is not her real name, and she is, in fact, my very own daughter. But she is rather an odd child, and if people knew that, well… what would they think of me?

I have always enjoyed blaming my parents for my own peculiarities. If I’m neurotic, histrionic, and overanxious, well, it’s clearly because of them (and all their typically neurotic, histrionic, and overanxious Jewish ancestors). But I am gradually learning that there is a flip side to that coin – that if my own children turn out to be a little strange, then it’s going to reflect directly on me.

I remember that when my son spent much of his second two years engaged in obsessive behaviour, meticulously organising his possessions into neatly ordered rows, the most common feedback I had was ‘Well, given his parents, it’s hardly surprising!’

Of course, I’m just as judgemental as the next person. When Jake chose the bridal gown in the dress-up corner every day for his first year at kindy, I raised my eyebrows knowingly. When four-year-old Nadia starting greeting adults with “Hello, are you going to die soon?” I was full of speculation. And when three-year-old Rosie began offering my son naked lap dances, I had a field day (though it did bring me tremendous joy to see my little boy so happy).

We all know that kids are born with their own personalities, that they are more than just the sum of their parents’ parts. But when it’s your own little Mikey or Lara who’s thrown themselves on the floor in the middle of a birthday party, howling that their piece of cake is ‘all wrong’ (because it is slightly asymmetrical), that knowledge is poor consolation.

The only comfort for people like me is to mix with the parents of other weird children. That’s partly why I love spending time with my friend Lily, who herself has exquisite dress sense, but whose daughter opened the door the other day wearing an orange t-shirt two sizes too small, a pastel frock with shoestring straps, a fluffy purple jacket, green woollen tights, and clear plastic sandals with rosettes.

It is also reassuring to spend time with other adults who were once odd children themselves, Josh, for example, who spent a year of his childhood wearing a balaclava everywhere – even in the sweltering heat of Surfers Paradise, where it looked particularly fetching teamed with his Donald Duck swimsuit.

Josh has since grown into a fine, upstanding citizen, and appears to be fairly normal on the surface. Still, you never know what goes on behind closed doors, and only his wife can tell us whether he still whips out the balaclava from time to time.

Of course, there is no guarantee that my odd children will turn into odd adults. But if they do, you can be sure of one thing - that everyone will nod and say gleefully “Well no wonder they’re weird. Have you seen the parents?”

13 comments:

  1. You are like a wise little dollop of wise on top of my ice cream of darkness.

    The beauty about kids is that their oddities are cute and yet, a life-sized (novelty sized?) version of those same oddities will ensure you sit by yourself on the bus as an adult.

    At some point, those of us who are destined to be something approximating normal realise that it is not OK to arrange our socks by thickness.

    The others go on to learn to paint with their toes and live in hemp cassocks.

    QED.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Well I was particularly nuts so it is of no real surprise that my 7yo refuses to wear clothes with buttons for fear they will eat him.

    I used to talk to imaginary friends. A lot. Rullie and Chullie and they and I went on a squirrel expedition in Toowoomba once. Only problem being I didn't let any adults know of this and the frantic 1 hr search for me didn't go down well.

    Yeah my kids have got no hope. But look how I turned out. *head tic

    ReplyDelete
  3. 'Tis true... strange tend to breed strange. I can attest to this.

    As a five year old I remember vividly wandering around a Christmas BBQ Party at the house of family friends, ignoring the many children of varying ages in attendance and preferring to ask every single adult their star sign and then give them a lesson in astrology. Who knows where that info came from? My parents were certainly not into that rubbish.

    And now, my 20 month old son seems to have a number of odd behaviours. Already he is exhibiting some OCD tendancies - will close open doors/drawers within seconds of their opening, hates having his hands dirty (won't finger paint at kindy!) and counts stairs as he walks them. OK - he doesn't actually say the numbers - in his version of counting each number is named 'bah!', but it's counting nonetheless.

    He also throws a tantrum if I refuse to leave the house wearing the shoes HE chose for me - and have often had to change outfits to match my shoes before going out.

    I could go on and on.

    So Kerri - do not feel alone. There an awful lot of we strange kids who grew up into wonderfully interesting, slightly off-kilter adults. We're doing ok, and we make the world a better (and more colourful!) place.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I teach kids singing/dancing and acting and i love it i get little boys dressing in skirts, kids that get hooked on a particular show to the exclusion of all else. I love the idiosyncracies. The only thing that kind of bugs me is little girls wanting to be princesses (yawn) or shoppers

    ReplyDelete
  5. As I type this, one of my children is making her My Little Ponies kiss, one is pulling a broken pedestal fan apart and the other is eating toothpaste. All three are naked. I love your blog. I feel like I'm in good - exclusive even - company....

    ReplyDelete
  6. Kerri, fear not. Your children will grow up to be attractive, hugely talented and successful, just like you..........xxx ;-0

    ReplyDelete
  7. My boys have done similar things to the above mentioned. My 7yr old, as a toddler, would line up his Thomas trains in a perfect semi-circle. I can't tell you how much that used to freak me out when I would walk in to his room.

    My 5yr old, in years passed, would often say things like, "Mummy? Can you see that man's face on the wall there?" I would look. Nothing. A bit of dirt maybe. But nothing. "Where?" I would enquire. "Right there," he'd say, and smile knowingly.

    If we're in a shopping centre, and I ask the 2yr old to follow, he will NOT move until I am standing right next to him. I must not walk ahead. Same on the way to school. I must always be beside him, or behind him. Not ahead. Tantrums will ensue otherwise.

    And I'm always frustrated with their obsession with "rude talk". Bum this, boobies that. Nothing unusual really. But then I remember Mum telling me how when I was a kid, she'd have friends over, and no matter how many times she'd tell me NOT to do it, I'd still yell out from the toilet, "MUMMY! Come and wipe my BUMMY!"

    What goes around comes around?

    ReplyDelete
  8. he he he! that is hilarious Jodie! I am reminded Kerri of a time I am told of...

    As a 4 year old my mum sent me to Perth to live for 3 months. She had post-natal depression. When I was there according to my aunt's and uncle's I proceeded to talk to EVERYONE and refer to EVERYTHING as "mary".

    In my books there were no other names. No-one knows quite where this came from, but it happened for several months...

    I turned out ok didn't I? I kindly remind them how traumatised I was being sent interstate at the tender age of 4 when they bring it up!!!

    ReplyDelete
  9. yes I have a really headstrong little girl, I am really chill so every day is a challenge with her bucking what little authority I have. School is coming for her next year and I really worry for her as she is going to learn the hard way, I hope they don't try to squash her too much as one day she will use her spunk to do something amazing.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Master10 INSISTS on perfectly straight, wrinkle free socks... this can take a while to achieve, especially when I am in a pissy mood. He also insists on a smooth, wrinkle free bed, luckily he make it himself.

    Miss8 likes to live in dishevelled heaven... and has a collection of tissues, socks and other items under her pillow at all times. Why? I just don't know.

    This is, as far as I'm concerned completely normal behaviour.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Yeah, kids are weird. Although, if you had seen my parents, you'd wonder how I ended up so normal! (My parents are awesome, they're just not exactly typical, nor was my upbringing).

    ReplyDelete
  12. yes I have a really headstrong little girl, I am really chill so every day is a challenge with her bucking what little authority I have. School is coming for her next year and I really worry for her as she is going to learn the hard way, I hope they don't try to squash her too much as one day she will use her spunk to do something amazing.

    ReplyDelete
  13. 'Tis true... strange tend to breed strange. I can attest to this.

    As a five year old I remember vividly wandering around a Christmas BBQ Party at the house of family friends, ignoring the many children of varying ages in attendance and preferring to ask every single adult their star sign and then give them a lesson in astrology. Who knows where that info came from? My parents were certainly not into that rubbish.

    And now, my 20 month old son seems to have a number of odd behaviours. Already he is exhibiting some OCD tendancies - will close open doors/drawers within seconds of their opening, hates having his hands dirty (won't finger paint at kindy!) and counts stairs as he walks them. OK - he doesn't actually say the numbers - in his version of counting each number is named 'bah!', but it's counting nonetheless.

    He also throws a tantrum if I refuse to leave the house wearing the shoes HE chose for me - and have often had to change outfits to match my shoes before going out.

    I could go on and on.

    So Kerri - do not feel alone. There an awful lot of we strange kids who grew up into wonderfully interesting, slightly off-kilter adults. We're doing ok, and we make the world a better (and more colourful!) place.

    ReplyDelete

Thanks! Love hearing from you.

Like it? Share it!