Wherein I Attempt To Keep My Cool And Not Punch Anyone in the Face

Lucy is a weird kid. When I say that, I know some people (my husband included) get offended, but you have to understand, I don’t think of “weird” in a negative way. I’m weird. My dad’s weird. My niece is weird. I’m sure there is a gene stuck somewhere in my family’s DNA that inevitably makes us strange. But I love that strangeness. I was a weird kid, I’m a weird adult, and I think that one quality is what has made me a success in most facets of my life. When you know that the word thinks you’re nutso, especially at a young age, you don’t really care what people think about you. You take more risks, you learn more and you tend to do better as an adult. Do I have scientific evidence to back that up? No, absolutely not. But looking back on people I’ve known for years and years, it’s the total weirdos that are running Fortune 500 companies in their late 20’s. It’s the nerds that are inventing cures for diseases. It’s the eccentric crazies that have become novelists in London (even if they are, um, romantic novels).

The coolest kid in school? I think he sells insurance or potato peelers or something in our hometown.

So, back on point. Lu’s a bit weird, but along with her awesome strangeness comes a pretty intelligent brain. She can already spell her name (at two-years old….normal?), pick out any color on the rainbow, count to twelve without stopping to think and sing songs she’s heard once in my car with perfect recollection (see Lulu’s iPod on the right hand corner of the homepage to see what she’s singing today). She’s smart. And I know I’m biased, but I think she’s a pretty sharp cookie.

So yesterday, when they put notices in all the kids’ cubbies at school saying whether they would be moving on to the next class level, I wasn’t surprised that Lu was moving up a grade. But apparently, the mother of one other kid was surprised.

Mother: “I don’t understand, Morgan** and Lucy are the same age, only a few days apart, why does SHE get to move up and Morgan doesn’t?”

Note: I’m standing right next to her as she points at my child and spits fire.

Teacher: “Well, Lucy has been potty trained for months now, and she’s already starting to read. Morgan just needs a bit more support, and she can’t move on until she’s out of diapers. All kids are different.”

Mother: “I just don’t understand how you can make that decision. I know my child….blah, blah, blah….grumble….[raises voice]….what message does this send to my daughter……..”

Then I walked out. Very happy that my daughter won’t have to be in a class with that kid anymore, and even happier I won’t have to deal with the mom again.

But when I replay it in my mind, I actually turn to said mother and say:

“My little weirdo, she’s smarter than yours. So suck it.”

**Not her real name, obviously