You always here these people talking about growing up and they say, “it was weird…” OR “I am (XYZ dysfunction)…”, “…because my mom/dad/parent was crazy.” I always think that that’s just sad, but you know what, I am pretty darn sure my kids will say the same thing in a few years—but I’m not crazy, dang it!
Just yesterday morning, my fifteen-year-old said that I was crazy as we drove to school. Why, you ask (for this particular conversation, anyway)? … because I am a morning person and *no one* else in the house is. I like to mess with them and tease them to try to get them to smile (or lighten up just a little bit in the morning). So that makes me crazy? Um, no…
Now, I will say, the boys joke a little about me and the “C” word from time to time when I do something silly be it intentionally or not. I can’t help but wonder if when they’re bigger they won’t say they are the way they are because their mom was crazy growing up. Yes, I sing when I feel like it. And I dance around when the urge strikes. That’s not weird or crazy that’s just expressing one’s self and releasing tensions… oh who am I kidding? To a teenaged boy, that can be a tad bit on that side of crazy.
I’d like to say, my own mother was not crazy when I was growing up, however, there were moments that could raise an eyebrow or two. I do have this neurosis or two that can be directly linked back to childhood traumas of having a slightly weird and/or one toe in crazytown mom.
The same could be said for my grandmother too… hmmm… and her mother… does a wee bit of crazy run in families? Down the maternal lines? Well, I guess it’s a good thing I had all boys then.
Still, I don’t think having a mom who’s, let’s say, a little bit different is a bad thing. I mean, I did turn out okay. Now, the boys’ dad… there’s a ‘nother whole stash of crazies—those boys may be in trouble no matter what.
Is there such a thing as a “normal” parent growing up? Are you better off with the “normal” one or the one who marches to their own beat?