So my son, Newt, does this thing where he’ll say something and then repeat it under his breath. It pretty much annoys the hell out of me, but I can’t really get too ticked off because I know exactly why he does it. Why do I know exactly why he does it? Because I do a similar version of this myself, only in the privacy of my own bathroom (usually the bathroom — sometimes the car).
I have imaginary conversations with people all the time. Sometimes I relive a social interaction. Sometimes I practice keeping my face a little more Queen-Elizabeth-like, with the hope of someday being able to stop revealing every single thing I’m thinking at every single moment I’m thinking it. Sometimes I fantasize about telling off people who come to my door to save me from going to hell.
Today I was thinking about what I might say to the mother of a little girl that my daughter, Elfie, has been interacting with for the last week. Elfie’s been in a sort of theater camp, and from her telling of it, this kid is — how shall I put it — a total pain in the ass. I trust Elfie’s assessment of most situations. Overall, she’s pretty diplomatic. And although I’m beating the patience and tolerance for irritating people out of her with my constant griping, she’s somehow managed to remain a nice person.
But this kid has pushed her over the edge. She’s the Veruca Salt of the theater — constantly complaining about the color of her costume or where she has to stand or what part she’s playing. From what I can tell, by the end of this week, Elfie finally couldn’t take it any more and essentially started telling the kid she needed to suck it up. And when that didn’t work, Elfie pretty much moved on to subtly mocking her (that’s my girl).
Anyway, I’ve seen this girl’s mother, and all I can think is, “You seem normal. You seem like a perfectly nice, down-to-earth, well-adjusted person. How have you raised this little prima donna?” And I’ve wondered, if I got into a conversation with her, would I say, “So, you’re daughter sure is. . . opinionated.” Or maybe, “Strong-willed?” Or “Spunky?”
That’s the thing about adjectives. They can turn a tiny house into “cozy” and spineless, waffling politician into “flexible.” I’m sure they could do something to make Veruca look a little softer around the edges.
*Incidentally, if you liked this story about Newt driving me crazy with the talking, you should read this story about singing. Yet another fantastic family trait.
Tammy Soong is a writer, wife, and mom from Reno, Nevada. She takes an absurd amount of pain medication, but not enough to have actually named her children "Newt" and "Elfie." She spends most days stressing out over clutter, writing stuff for this place, and working on podcasts with her gal pals, the Blogging Betties.
Actually, most of us extroverts, if pressed, would have to admit that we think aloud and have fake conversations a LOT. When I was a kid, I thought maybe I was weird. Well, I still might be; but not because of thinking aloud.
You've got to check out my blog re: parenting….
And thank you for inspiring me to write up what I was thinking yesterday. Check it out at: http://contemplationspb.blogspot.com/
After you read it, you'll understand when I say, yep, Veruca Salt's mother is job security for me!
It makes so much more sense when the parents are magnifications of a child's "interesting" behavior, but puzzling when the Veruca's rise up out of seemingly nowhere!
My recent post Stepping Out
I have a "high maintenance" child. She asks 500 questions about why you are doing anything. She has to do it first. She wants to understand why you chose pink for the costume instead of purple, I mean it makes no sense to her. She wants to know where your head is at all times. She will speak to you like she is an adult. "Um…Miss. Blank, I think you should really do it this way" I had a new friend get genuinely upset when my daughter told her that she should do something a different way. New friend says to me all shocked, "Did you hear how she just spoke to me?" Me: "Um, like you are an adult and then she told you how to do something. Yep. Sorry about that, she feels she needs to be in control." She will talk and talk and talk until you are ready to scream, "STFU." She needs to feel important, she needs to feel needed, she needs to know what is going on at all times. While she is no Veruca Salt about saying, "I want it now"…she wants things done her way, which she feels is the right way. She is a lot like me, I am talkative and I ask all kinds of questions about why things are being done in a certain way, I question the status quo and I like to be in charge…..but most people tell me I am laid back and easy to be around…
What you don't realize is Veruca's mom must be cringing inside a little…she must know that is her child, but she also knows there is no way to stop it. And maybe just maybe the mom sees herself in her own child and has struggled even to love her because the things she hates about herself is the things she hates in her child. I am convinced that becoming a parent means some sort of self loathing and self introspection, especially if you get a child a lot like yourself. If you've ever watched the Land Before Time movies, my daughter is Sarah, and she loves loves loves that Character…she is a rule follower, as long as the rules totally make complete sense. If they don't she will question. I mean I am the one person to answer a driving test question wrong because the rule that only blind people are allowed to carry a white cane with a red tip seemed ludicrous to me…It's America, I can carry a white cane with a red tip if I want to!
I had no idea you were blogging! I'll go check it out.
Exactly!
I'm pretty sure my kids are here to put a spotlight on all of my flaws. Because they either bring them out of me in an even "grander" way or they drive me crazy doing the exact same things I always do (and make me cringe while I get pissed off because they're acting just like I would).
Like I said, I have no idea what's up with this family. The mom and I may be perfectly suited to be best friends and her kid may drive her nutso on a regular basis.
BTW, I hate taking standardized tests because I over-think them. Like your red-tipped cane. It's maddening.
That's interesting. I'll have to ask my husband — the introvert — if he talks to himself.