You are not normal!

When I grew up I didn’t think I was a normal girl.  But I believe all people must think that at one point or another or all the time.

I could throw a base ball like a boy.  And almost take their heads off.

I could hit a golf ball like a crazy person, straight up the middle of the fairway.  I think it really impressed my Dad, and his mates.

I used to play with trucks (My Dad was a truck driver) and I hated dolls.

I was very witty. (Obviously I still am, and being as I mediate all comments clearly everyone agrees 🙂  )

Hated being limited to “girl” stuff.

And on the subject of “girl stuff” OMG I used to hate watching TV show where someone was chasing a girl and she would always fall…I remember, even when I was about 5, watching and yelling at the TV…”get up, get up!!!”

Hated I couldn’t join the Police force on the dog squad because they didn’t accept girls!!!

Loved being able to play any sport fearlessly, results: many injuries…and many times immediately after injuries pretending that I’m totally fine, you know the feeling.

Loved/hated never backing down, even after that horrible moment when you realise you are utterly and completely wrong…eek!

Loved that when my sister and I had a “fight”, it wasn’t a normal fight between siblings, it was a punch up that resulted in blood flow, on one occasion, out of my nose due to a nasty run in with a bottle of Clag glue thrown by my sister.  I do believe I paid her back by spraying fly spray into her mouth (sorry!)

So being as we are in a, not so, new century some of this stuff has changed, and some never will.

 

And having said that I didn’t feel like a normal kid, my kids now take great pleasure in informing me I am not a normal mother…

I don’t yell at them, belittle them, hit them, abused them, belittle their friends.

But I do:

Make pancakes in funny shapes, mickey mouse ears, love hearts, initials, boobs, cars, etc etc.

Accept their friends because if they have passed my kids rigorous testing then they are okay by me.

Still tickle their feet, lightly, when they won’t wake up.

Make up songs and sing loudly in the kitchen even if we have visitors. (My house I can do what I want, right?)

Give them a hug and kiss in front of their friends. (Whenever they are leaving with their friends they always say good bye and give me a hug and kiss on the way out).

Hold their hands when we go shopping(when I say “their” with this one I actually only mean my daughter, because my son and I went shopping last year and we held hands and then we both looked at each other and giggled a little and decided it was a bit weird in public…he is 19).

Still listen to what they want to tell me, even though it is about something that is boring me to death and I switch off then suddenly remember they are telling me something and I should nod, and then I hope I was nodding in the right place…and then at the end of the conversation I need to tell them something encouraging…(and my daughter gets an email of my posts so by putting this towards the end of the post hopefully she won’t know that’s what I do,…and now I am think that is what they do to me when I am telling them an interesting story…hhhmmmm I am onto those kids now…)

And I even let them listen to their music in the car and figure if I get pulled over for speeding that will be my excuse…”Sorry Officer, my kids were making me listen to death metal and I wanted to get home as fast as possible”  and by the way when I say speeding, 5 k’s over the limit is okay isn’t it?  Sorry I am actually one of those weird rule following people…

So the moral to this huge story is…nothing is normal, there is no such thing, just be a good person, don’t hurt other people, love and live and smile and laugh and have a glass of wine once in a while even if you are on a no carb diet and you know it will make you sick but taste good anyway. 🙂  And teach your kids stuff, not boy stuff or girl stuff; just stuff.  Teach your boys to cook, teach your girls to change a tire, teach your boys how to treat a lady or how to pick a lady more to the point, teach you girls how to use a bloody hammer and fix things with an electric drill.  And please stress to your children how difficult being a parent really is, we do not have a manual, we are learning too, we are just doing the best we can and sometime the rest is left to them. Forgive us, for we know not what we do (seriously kids we are as confused as you guys are).

Chow!

Ruby Ruby Ruby.