Small Wonder

Small Wonder

Misty and watercolored…

I recently spent a good amount of time looking through some pictures of my son and daughter spending time with my grandparents, and with the passing of my grandpa, Bompa, a few days ago, emotions were running high. All of these memories of him flooded my mind. As the tears began creeping in, I found myself smiling and being thankful that my kids were able to know him, and will at least have pictures to remind them of his smile and unique personality.

Do your kids turn into sideshow acts, too?

Earlier today, I had an idea to write a post about how my kids have super weird behaviors in public, and it only seemed fitting to begin by talking about Bompa because he was somewhat of a performer himself. As many of my Setchell family members can attest to, Bompa was rarely quiet and content with his opinions. He would give waitresses a hard time (all in good fun) and give the famous confused/grimacing/raised-eyebrow face to anyone and everyone. He had the best raised eyebrow expression ever. I can’t tell you how many times it appeared when we visited and Zoe and Milo turned into oddballs with the most random sounds and movements you can imagine. Bompa was a great sport and was always ready to fire back with a playful and sarcastic remark, which usually puzzled the kids, but made me laugh.

Grandparents always get a free pass in my book…

I will always cherish my memories of my grandpa and his distinctive behavior. He was obnoxious sometimes, and I loved it. It was never too much for me to handle and always kept me smiling. So, in a way, my kids take after him…at least with the distinctive (and that’s a kind way of putting it) displays of behavior.

Who remembers the TV show, Small Wonder?

(And who’s singing “…it’s a smaaaalll wonder…” in your head right now?) My daughter often reminds me of Vicki, the robot girl from that show.

It’s a smaaaalll wonder…

From the quizzical looks she gives me when I ask her a simple question to the almost automated responses she has to certain daily events.

Peculiar is one way of putting it…

She’s as predictable as can be when it comes to what color plate and cup she wants to use, how she wants her hair done, and her reactions to certain situations, such as speaking to the lady at the grocery store check out. She turns into a bizarre version of a little girl with quirky voices and facial expressions.

An epiphany…sort of

This led me to an essential question (If you’re a teacher you probably just chuckled, then frowned, at that phrase, I know I did!). Anyway, why do my children turn into sideshow acts when we have company or speak to anyone outside our home? Case in point: our landlords came over the other day to fix some things in the garden and my hooligans ran out the door with no shoes or coats and started screaming and dancing in the street at the bottom of the sidewalk. It’s a dead end street, but still! Excuse me? Since when is it a thing where we run out the door without shoes and coats and go into the street? I kid you not, they never do this when it’s just me!

Is it only my kids?

It’s like they have a sixth sense that tells them, “mommy won’t yell at me when we have company,” so they go completely wacko and have no cares in the world. My poor landlords think I have zoo animals living with me, and bless their hearts, they are polite and doting towards the little monkeys anyway.

It doesn’t stop there.

As soon as someone outside of our family is in the picture, my daughter suddenly loses her ability to speak correctly. (Mind you, she can’t say her r’s properly yet and still mispronounces many a word, so correctly is a loose term;)) She starts by adding a “y” sound to EVERY single word she says, which comes out in a baby voice that is so totally annoying that I want to have a shot of tequila…which I don’t even like…to take the edge off. After that she breaks out the robotic movements and gestures while making weird beeping sounds. Zoe in public is a very odd Zoe, indeed.

In enters the Milo-monster

Monkey see, monkey do, as the old saying goes. Milo reverts to baby talk and throws out his Tasmanian Devil moves. Let me add that these behaviors often leak outside the home and resurface in situations when someone, such as the post office worker or cashier at a store, speaks to us. Milo fake whines on my hip and says “Hewoo!” in a baby voice. He has the ability to speak even more clearly than his big sister sometimes, yet he insists on leading strangers to believe that he’s nothing more than a large infant. He’s already small for his age and often people are surprised that he’ll turn 3 soon.

Lest I forget to mention…

The embarrassment that consumes me as I try to casually laugh it off and ignore the offending behavior of my completely adorable children is overwhelming. I can’t tell you how many conversations I’ve had with my kids once we are all buckled in the car about how it’s not okay to act so strange in front of strangers. I’m beginning to think that they aren’t clear as to what stranger means…because right now, they think it means they should be, well, strange.

My life-like robots

Picture little robots (Small Wonder style) doing random jerky moves with the occasional “beh, boe, blah!” coming out of their mouths. I totally blame Zoe, since she’s older, and just assume that Milo thinks this is what he is supposed to do and is still learning. It’s a shame, really, that so many people probably think I have the weirdest kids on the block, when they are actually very smart and kind little humans.

Why do I pay it any attention?

Sometimes I wonder why I even care so much about all the other people who witness these little episodes, but then I realize that its not really that I care as much as I question my parenting abilities. Where did they learn this pattern of behavior? I am quite sure that I don’t have odd outbursts when friends are over or we are out and about. (Friends, correct me if I’m wrong here!) I’m also quite sure that I have never, ever, condoned such acts and usually do my best to downscale the performances, so why on earth do they continue to take the stage each and every time?

Like great-grandpa like grandchild…

I guess they have it in their genes, thanks to Bompa, and maybe next time an incident occurs I will take a deep breath and think of him. While it makes me tear up now, I’m sure that with time it will get easier and I’ll be able to smile in spite of all the obnoxious behavior…thanks, Bompa.