blogs

I remember the night my son was born, staring at him in wonder and awe. I did the same thing when my daughter was born. The idea that exactly half of my DNA could create such delightful, perfect creatures seemed like a dream. I imagined that my amazement would fade over time, but I still find myself shaking my head incredulously at how wonderful they are. My husband and I take delight in sharing our lives with such interesting and enjoyable people, and I never expected to feel that way day after day. 

One of the best things about my children is the way they embrace who they are. I spent most of my childhood imagining that I was switched at birth and that my real family was out there somewhere. Probably the “What color eyes did the mailman have?” comments didn’t help any: I was the sole blonde-haired, blue-eyed child in a family of brunettes with green or brown eyes. But it went beyond physical appearance. My pursuits were nerdier, my personality more bookish and opinionated, and I always felt like an alien.

Once I realized I was raising my children in a way that is different from the mainstream, especially in the valley, I expected them to feel more alien than I did. After all, the home we have is far less mainstream than my childhood home: We keep kosher, we do not have a TV or a gaming system, we go to the library once a week, we buy mostly organic food and we spend 45 minutes at the dinner table most nights discussing everything from abortion to the artichoke festival.   

My children are well aware that we are not “normal,” but they do not seem to mind. In fact, they tend to revel in it, especially my eight-year-old daughter. She has said, “If people tell me I’m weird, I say ‘Thank you! That’s a compliment.’” She was giddily dancing around the kitchen the night before Thanksgiving as my husband and I prepped some of our recipes, and I joked that she appeared to be drunk. She said, “I’m drunk with weirdness and geekness and myselfness.” I love that my kids are growing up to be secure in themselves. In fact, I sometimes envy them their confidence: Knowing who you are can keep you from trying to be what other people think you should be.