Georgia – middle child – is unique.
I know everyone says their child is unique and special. Made up entirely from magic sperm, and a daisy encrusted egg. They came into the world and ….. well special shit happened and and and …… yes everyone is so fucking special.
Right now “normal and standard” is the new special. One more special Princess party on Facebook and I am going to lose my grip on reality.
Georgia came into the world in the fairly usual way — there were a few hitches along the way, that made me question the sense in ever being pregnant. And how I was going to survive this one. She also came into the world with the name Calum/Caleb —- I was convinced she was a boy, and did not want to hear otherwise. – so no girl’s names had been shortlisted. It took about an hour or two to come up with a backup girl’s name.
Anyway, we can run over that story another day.
Georgia is a strange kid — some days I look at her and I really think to myself “this child is totally off the charts … like verging on bat shit crazy.”
She sees the world, and the people in it through a lens that I do not possess. She lives a great deal in her head — she writes stories and is constantly coming up with characters and making cards for the characters, and very complex sort of mind maps.
Georgia is a child who is happy — she is just happy. Like every part of her is happy from the tips of her rather large feet to the top of her gorgeous head.
She loves everyone. She hugs everyone. Strangers. She looks at you and you can see she is starting to tense up and she says “I need to give you a hug” and then she hugs you — and I think it is a release for her.
She does not have a mean bone in her body. She likes everyone and she does not judge anyone in a negative manner. I recall a time when she was trying to explain that there was a child in her class who was overweight and the weight was an important factor in the story, but she did not want to say he was fat, because she knows this is a mean thing to say … so she sat with it for a few minutes and then took another run at the story and she told me the child was round. Again, in the kindest, least mean manner she could find.
She is fortunate that she is well liked at school and there are a few “strange” girls in her age group, so they all relish in their shared strangeness, and I hope she keeps it forever.
I do not know where Georgia came from — she is so unusual, I can’t even claim her as 100% mine.
I am a bit strange, but when I use Georgia as the scale, I am normal, like vanilla normal. I look so main stream in comparison to her that it is embarrassing actually.
Georgia is Georgia, self created, self fulfilled and self made. We are merely facilitators that throw food at her every now and then.
Georgia often is busy with a conversation in her head, and she will blurt something out, that has nothing to do with anything that is going on —- because she does not realise you did not hear her internal thoughts.
Often I tend to disregard something she says, because there is so much strange from this child. And some days I do actually just want to listen to the end of the song.
She often makes a statement that is so out of context, that it takes you 15 minutes to understand the context, and based on that, you can then listen to the statement or question again and it makes sense.
Or it still doesn’t and you just distract her with a colourful pencil or something.
Which is all good and stuff — but sometimes you are 20 -25 minutes into a story — because you want to be the attentive mother, and then you realise that she is telling you about a television show ….. word for freaking word …..and then you lose your mind and swear you will never listen to another one of these stories again.
I now know to ask — is this what really happened or is this from a movie or television show?? {one learns this sort of thing ….. eventually}
The result is that sometimes Georgia says things and my brain does not always “hear” her.
Yesterday I popped in to Clicks.
We already had a “weird” exchange in Pick ‘n Pay with regards to “frills” and why you can’t eat them. That took a lot of energy to understand what the hell she was actually saying. (It turns out there is a sign and it is one of their new slogans….. a heads up would have been good).
I am standing there at Clicks looking at a shelf for a product, that I can see they do not have in stock. I keep standing there staring at the shelf. As if by the pure force of my wanting THIS product it will just appear there.
I am not sure if you ever do this — sometimes I walk away — like 5 steps and then go back to the shelf, as if something regarding their stock would change in the last 12 seconds or so. {possibly I am not that far removed from Georgia’s strange}
I hear Georgia say something …. it’s strange enough that I go “Sorry, what Georgia?”
Georgia goes: “How important is this piece of material if it must have it’s own religion?”
I look at her — in the way I often do.
Knowing that there is something happening here I do not understand and this is going to take a long sit down and possibly two shots of tequila to get me to the other end.
I ask her to repeat herself, in case I had already had wine, and possibly had forgotten. You now how it goes with afternoon drinking.
She repeats herself: “How important is this piece of material if it must have it’s own religion?”
I step towards her and look at her quizzically – she points to the product.
{In case the joke is lost on you — she was reading Muslim for Muslin}
Like any good parent would do, I snorted, laughed, praised her for being genius and did not correct her.
Let that blanket have it’s own religion.
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