New Year's Excuses

We all have at least one New Year’s Resolution, and in the coming months we will fabricate a plethora of explanations as to why we have avoided fulfilling our goals.

But no matter what rationalization we come up with, children are truly the experts when it comes to fabricating excuses.  They’re creative, inventive, and sometimes even plausible. 

Here are some of our gems from years past:

Me: “Joyce, why do you keep telling me "No, I won't do ____?" 

Joyce: "I'm all out of yes's."

I come up the stairs to find a balloon stuck to the wall with used green chewing gum.  Why?  

Joyce: "I forgot to throw it in the trash."

Marie, while bouncing frantically on the couch to keep herself awake: "I'm too tired to put on my pajamas!"

Marie, when asked why she knocked loudly on our door early in the morning: "I didn't want to come in and wake you up."

Me: "Joyce, don't throw rocks." 

Five minutes later: "Joyce, I told you not to throw rocks!" 

Joyce: "it's not a rock, it's a mineral."

Maybe we could learn something from their creativity.

The Island of Misfit Toys

It’s Christmas time, and in my household that means watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.  One of my favorite parts of the movie is when they visit the Island of Misfit Toys.  I always thought living there sounded like fun, because every inhabitant was so unique no one person stood out because of their peculiarities. 

Like those misfit toys, we all know when we don’t fit in.  We may not consciously be able to put our finger on exactly why, but unless someone is completely blind to the social signals of others, it’s pretty obvious when we don’t quite belong.  Children realize this just as well as adults, but may not be able to articulate why until adolescence or even adulthood.  You quickly learn to perceive what parts of yourself are socially acceptable to reveal, and which would be met with confusion, pity, or just plain incomprehension. 

It can be especially difficult if the group you feel the least rapport with is your own gender.  Anyone who has spent time with me knows that I pick up every interesting bug I come across, and have no problem discussing various stomach churning topics at the dinner table.  Unlike this family, finding a corn snake in our Christmas tree would result in the Best Christmas Ever.  These traits were usually met with a resounding “ew” from most girls, so I found the boys were usually far less grossed out by my entomological fascinations.  The knowledge that you have little in common with the majority of your peers make the few “fits” you do find all the more precious, though not always fully appreciated except in retrospect. 

We never completely grow out of our eccentricities either.  If we’re lucky, we learn to embrace and incorporate our oddities, and find other misfits to colonize an island with.  We are captivated by each other’s cabinet of curiosities, and are remarkably accepting of the peculiarities others bring to exhibit.  In comparison, we really find “normal” people rather boring.  We’re comfortable with who we are, and secure enough to not feel the need to either transform “normal” people into ourselves, or ourselves into “normal” people.

So come visit our island of misfits someday.  

You might fit in better then you think.    

Boys and Girls

“Is it a boy or a girl?” is the second question expectant parents are asked, after the obligatory due date query.  You may be told that boys are easier, and girls are drama queens, or that girls are easier and boys are a mystery.  But everyone has an opinion about what to expect from each gender. 

If you have a girl, her clothes are pink with ruffles; and if you have a boy his clothes have a variety of forest animals appliquéd on the front.  And if you choose not to find out the gender of your child before birth, you are inevitably given yellow and green clothes decorated with an array of zoo animals.

Then the child grows up a bit, and the first system of classification they learn is gender, quickly followed by socially acceptable “girl” and “boy” preferences, from both peers and adults.  When shopping for a child’s present, we do not typically buy a girl a Transformer or a boy a Barbie.  Most girls will happily dress a Barbie in a variety of outfits while the boys stage an epic battle with their Transformers.  But not every child fits that paradigm, and many will even say so.

The majority of people have the same reaction when confronted with a child who doesn’t fit their preconceived blueprint.  It usually involves a double take, then the hopefully unvoiced “what’s wrong with you?” thought, followed by confusion on how to respond.  Children are more perceptive than we give them credit for, and usually know they didn’t say the right lines.  They may backpedal and say they really do like Barbie, or defiantly stick to their original statement that Barbie is dumb and dinosaurs are awesome.

Whatever the child’s response, they are left with two choices:  Act the accepted role, or endure the consequences of improvising.  Each path has its inherent difficulties.  The first may lead to superficial conformity and hollow camaraderie, but quickly becomes too laborious to sustain.  The second is certainly more challenging, perhaps even lonely at times, but the authentic nature of the role makes it far more rewarding.

So I never tell my daughters that they shouldn’t be interested in something because of their gender, and rarely tell them they can’t do something they dream of.

But there is one exception they learned the hard way:  

Only boys can go to the potty standing up.