My life is different from your life. It’s got nothing to do with you, your child or your relationship status. Actually, it does. That’s it exactly.
We are different.
Do you need me to prove it? I went to private school. My pinkies are curved. I only have one living parent. I love my step-father. I have 4 siblings. I am a dog person. I prefer reading a book to reading on an e-reader. I have blue eyes. I grew up in suburban Philadelphia. I haven’t gotten a haircut in over a year and a half. Ice hockey is a way of life. I enjoy running. I own a life insurance policy. I think water is delicious. I never want to own another car besides a Subaru.
Did you get all that?
We’re not the same.
But that’s ok.
Somewhere along the lines, someone thought that someone like me could be considered normal. Here’s a few things that you may not know.
I have flat feet. I’m above average height for a female at 5’8′. My father died while myself, my mother and sister were holding him. I’ve suffered from depression. I don’t love where I live. I have a child with special needs. I’m addicted to social media (but I won’t be detoxing). I have over 30 tattoos and a permanent piercing. I’ve totaled more cars than most people own in a lifetime. I’ve miscarried. I have anger outbursts that I’ve worked almost 30 years to control and still struggle with.
But, someone thinks I’m normal.
I know this because I’ve been asked how someone normal has a special baby. Well, here’s how it goes. Two normals get together- you know, in the between the sheets, don’t tell mom kind-of-way. A baby grows. It’s an amazing baby. The parents, those normals I told you about, have dreams and hopes for this baby. Then the baby is born, and it’s so much different than the normals expected. It’s not better, or worse. It’s different. This child is, GASP, normal too. Sure he or she is different, but all humans differ. If you believe that there are two people alike, you’re only fooling yourself. All children are special. They are all unique- even those really strange ones like my brothers who are identical twins. Somehow those kids, 21 years later, are night and day… both amazing, handsome, special kids headed in two different directions.
So what’s normal? How the hell do I know?
I’m a tall woman, with crooked fingers and flat feet. I’ve encountered death and loss the likes I don’t wish on my enemies (do I have those?). I’m married, but is that even a cool thing to be anymore? I live with OCD issues paired with insomnia (no, I don’t consider any part of my life to be suffering from…). My normal husband? He’s a 37 year old who made a career change at 35. He went from a single guy-musician-business owner, to husband-solely-supporting a family of 3 (soon to be 4!) in under 5 years. He’s not very tall, or dark, but he’s really handsome. His nose is big and his heart is huge. His normal-self didn’t own a car for 6 years. In fact, he’s so normal that he chose me to marry (as described, I’m as normal as they come, no?).
Normal? It’s not what you think.
What are you? What am I? What is Dave? And Addie?
Well… we’re all human. Let’s act accordingly.