I do not hesitate to tell everyone that I was a perfect angel child. I never did anything wrong, I was a cherubic gossamer-haired pixie girl who was absolutely flawless in every way. I mean, LOOK at this child!
Then, of course, when I was three, my parents had another child, and I changed. No, I didn't become a hellfire-breathing demon child, it was worse.
I became WEIRD.
I was a weird kid. Hell, I'm a weird adult. (Keep the choruses of "WE KNOW" to a dull roar, thanks.) But as a young dorky kid who never quite learned how to run or jump or play ANY sports or do much of anything except read books and sit in the woods for hours at a time imagining things, I rapidly became COMPLETELY incapable of relating to my peers. They were so…normal! Like on the TV! I knew about normal, I watched The Brady Bunch and Gimme A Break and Little House on the Godforsaken Prairie. I knew I was different. Not GOOD different, just "well, isn't this a blowtorch up the ass" kind of different. So I did what seemed logical at the time.
I stayed by myself.
I figured this was the perfect plan! I couldn't relate to other kids, and when I was around them, all I could think was "Man, I can't WAIT to get out of this situation and read a book or watch The Dukes of Hazzard, WHEN can I go home???
Side note: I read a lot of blogs that are written by moms who are driven MAD by the concept of playdates and events and sports and keeping their kids on a full schedule. This would have driven me directly to the second-grade equivalent of Bedlam if it had been inflicted on me as a child. I couldn't deal with "Get outside and STAY OUTSIDE until the streetlights come on, no really, the door is locked, drink from the hose," which was a standard summer day at my house. I can't IMAGINE if my poor parents would have had to drag me to EVENTS with other CHILDREN. It would have been apocolyptic.
ANYWAY, I stayed by myself as much as I could manage, and was weird, weird, weird as hell. But at least I wasn't NOTICED as being weird, until, of course, school started up again and I was the kid with the glasses and the hair trying to hide the fact that she still sucks her thumb with a passionate fervor (self-soothing technique!) as she hides a chapter book in her desk and tries to imagine she's in Walnut Grove or Green Gables or SOMETHING, ANYTHING other than 5th grade. People…notice this kind of kid. And then, well, it was all over. Teachers even tried to get other kids to interact with me, and dudes? I RAN AWAY from them. I KNEW I was weird! Couldn't they just leave me and my weirdness ALONE? That's all I ever wanted.
I could ramble FOREVER about how weird I was (am) and all the weird stuff I did (do) but I'll leave you with a question: Did anyone else, I mean, HYPOTHETICALLY, act out "Days of Our Lives" with their Barbies? Just me then? Fantastic.