My three and however many you have. They are all weird.
For a long time, it was difficult for me to disengage myself from my kids. If they acted weird or oddly shy or behaved in a way that was embarrassing, it really bothered me. I was too tied up in the whole "this child doing whatever he/she is doing is a reflection of me" idea.
Maybe due to G's occupational therapy and his particular oddness, which really isn't that odd or unusual given some of the other kids I see floating in and out of OT, I have let that idea go. Instead, I have adopted a "my kids are weird but so are everyone else's" idea.
I write a lot about G's weirdness simply because it is 1. so similar to my own weirdness (and therefore very challenging for me) and 2. requires outside assistance in the form of therapies.
But the other two kids are also weird.
One thing I find really strange about N is her self esteem. She isn't terribly coordinated, limber or naturally athletically skilled, and yet she will do some weird leg lift and say to us, "I am so good at gymnastics" or "I am so limber." She took one year of dance lessons when she was 4. She will now do a turn and say, "I am such a good dancer."
I just sorta stare blankly at her. I might sorta say, "Uh-huh" with a slight questioning tone at the end.
It drives me a little bit crazy, this self-esteem based on delusion. Not that she couldn't become more skilled and talented in the physical realm with dedication and considerable practice, but she comes across to me like an idiot when she says this stuff (especially since she has shown zero motivation to actually train and practice in order to be more skilled).
Having high self-esteem is great, but sometimes I worry she comes across like a turd if she says this kind of junk very often to other people. (And I know she does because I've heard her say stuff like, "I am really awesome at this song" to her piano teacher even though she is still clunking along the keys.)
I don't talk to her about it because I don't want to knock her down; life will do that on its own. But I definitely don't praise her for things that don't honestly deserve any kind of praise. Wow, you can sorta lift your completely bent leg up into an Elaine Bennis like dance move. Bravo!
M is newly 5, so his weirdness is just now coming to fruition.
Next week he'll be screened for speech therapy (having both our nurse at the clinic and his preschool teacher ask two days apart, "Have you ever looked into speech for him?). After taking our preschool music class since August and being in his second year of preschool, he is just now (in November and after being talked to about it) starting to participate and talk to his teacher when asked a direct question. He has a strong embarrassment streak and takes an unusually long time to warm up to people, which is unlike his siblings and therefore weird (at least to me).
Accepting their weirdness has made me both more accepting of my own children for who they are and who they probably won't ever be and more understanding and compassionate to other parents whose kids are differently weird from my own.
For a long time, it was difficult for me to disengage myself from my kids. If they acted weird or oddly shy or behaved in a way that was embarrassing, it really bothered me. I was too tied up in the whole "this child doing whatever he/she is doing is a reflection of me" idea.
Maybe due to G's occupational therapy and his particular oddness, which really isn't that odd or unusual given some of the other kids I see floating in and out of OT, I have let that idea go. Instead, I have adopted a "my kids are weird but so are everyone else's" idea.
I write a lot about G's weirdness simply because it is 1. so similar to my own weirdness (and therefore very challenging for me) and 2. requires outside assistance in the form of therapies.
But the other two kids are also weird.
One thing I find really strange about N is her self esteem. She isn't terribly coordinated, limber or naturally athletically skilled, and yet she will do some weird leg lift and say to us, "I am so good at gymnastics" or "I am so limber." She took one year of dance lessons when she was 4. She will now do a turn and say, "I am such a good dancer."
I just sorta stare blankly at her. I might sorta say, "Uh-huh" with a slight questioning tone at the end.
It drives me a little bit crazy, this self-esteem based on delusion. Not that she couldn't become more skilled and talented in the physical realm with dedication and considerable practice, but she comes across to me like an idiot when she says this stuff (especially since she has shown zero motivation to actually train and practice in order to be more skilled).
Having high self-esteem is great, but sometimes I worry she comes across like a turd if she says this kind of junk very often to other people. (And I know she does because I've heard her say stuff like, "I am really awesome at this song" to her piano teacher even though she is still clunking along the keys.)
I don't talk to her about it because I don't want to knock her down; life will do that on its own. But I definitely don't praise her for things that don't honestly deserve any kind of praise. Wow, you can sorta lift your completely bent leg up into an Elaine Bennis like dance move. Bravo!
M is newly 5, so his weirdness is just now coming to fruition.
Next week he'll be screened for speech therapy (having both our nurse at the clinic and his preschool teacher ask two days apart, "Have you ever looked into speech for him?). After taking our preschool music class since August and being in his second year of preschool, he is just now (in November and after being talked to about it) starting to participate and talk to his teacher when asked a direct question. He has a strong embarrassment streak and takes an unusually long time to warm up to people, which is unlike his siblings and therefore weird (at least to me).
Accepting their weirdness has made me both more accepting of my own children for who they are and who they probably won't ever be and more understanding and compassionate to other parents whose kids are differently weird from my own.
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