I am not Normal.

I never really fit in as a kid, was never the popular type to go dashing off with the football star…not that I did not want to at times.  I just never fit in with that group.  My peers hung out in the library and read the unabridged dictionary and picked a word of the day, and used it.  What’s more, we liked it.  Wow.

I could tell you what recidivism was as a freshman and by my senior year I knew the difference between Locke and Rousseau’s Social Contract.  I knew why Nietzsche was WACK and why I could not subscribe to his philosophy.  I used the word subscribe too, and thought the INTERMISSION break on Monte Python one of the funniest moments of the Holy Grail.  I was not, repeat NOT normal.

I had a pair of brown heeled boots when I was in school that my brothers lovingly called my hooker boots…I loved them and was quite perturbed when someone decided I best not wear them anymore.  In today’s fashion world I would be tre’ chic.  School officials did not like my plaid trench coat found in Goodwill and made my mother take me shopping where a trip to Pamida saw me in a pink and grey woolen dress coat.  I hated it.  I don’t wear pink and I don’t wear wool.  Let’s face it, I was allowed to march to the beat of my own drummer….both of my siblings did too.  Although none of us will tell you how lonely we really were.  Those are secrets we keep hidden beneath a dazzling and perfect smile.

I watch my boys and wonder how other families function.  Do their moms talk for the dog and make up silly stories about what she is doing and thinking?  Do other children ask their mothers to “make Kisses talk, mom.”  Do they do it?  It is part of my nature and not something I do to appease them, but to bring them joy. I re-invent song lyrics on the spot and nary a book do I read that at least 6 voices are not present.  I am not sure that is normal.

My children use me as a jungle gym frequently and I have a standing cheer move hand jive thing to We Are the Champions.  A little Queen never hurt anyone and my mother would be proud.  I demand that if they use a big word they know what it means and how to use it .  If they ask a question, they are telling me they are ready for an age appropriate answer…if we don’t know, we look it up–Not on Wikipedia.  Mom would be proud of this as well.  My boss would be displeased at my use of the phrase “as well”

Tonight my youngest stuck up his middle finger and wondered why that was “naughty.”  I thought for a minute and told him that it means to have sex…between 2 people as adults in a loving relationship and it is not something to talk about as a little person. He looked at me and understood that is for adult people to know….yup it is.  Having the information means that he is better equipped to tackle the harder questions and issues as he matures.  Should I have been that up front with him?  I don’t know.  Right now he and I are connected enough that he can bring  those concerns to me and I can answer them.  I pray our connection stays that way and he looks at me each day with the same loving eyes and tells me he loves me.  I treasure that.  For all the botches I commit each day, he loves me.  He just told me I was the greatest mom in the whole world, cause he likes me….A four year old likes his mom.  Not too shabby.

No, I am not normal.  I know Yoda and do a mean imitation of the Jedi warrior. I can do Elmo and Gollum too ( ask me about my precious sometime).  I sing Musical theatre to my boys and cry right along with my oldest at movies.  We have the most interesting conversations about faith and life and God and what all this means.  I answer as honestly as I know how and never lie to them…I have cried in front of them and begged their forgiveness when I have failed to be the mom I needed to be for them.

Sometimes it still feels lonely to think some of the things that I think.  I wish I could make small talk and be content to take the world as it is without constantly looking beneath the surface.  I wish I could harden myself and not care and demand so much of who I am and what I know.  I cannot.  I wish I could fit the normal mold (whatever that is) cause sometimes it would be safer to fly under the radar.  Sometimes blending in would be less lonely as I scan a group of people and wonder if I am the only thinking as I do.  Does anyone else have song lyrics or movie lines wander in their heads and do they constantly look for the symbolism?  Sometimes it would be easier to sigh and say “screw it” and not care….I cannot.  It was not the way I was made, nor was it the way I was raised.  I dunno, maybe I am not making any sense.  Sometimes I just wish….hhhhmmmm

Well, dear readers, thank you for humoring me with your listening eyes…May the force be with you!

Monty Python & the Quest for the Holy Grail

Image via Wikipedia

Shalom,

cahl

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