>Pity The Fool

>Growing up, I was never what one would consider an attractive kid. When describing myself, tomboyish is actually the first word that comes to mind. I’ve never been skinny, and I “grew into” my nose. I got my first pair of glasses – bifocals – in the second grade. Though I would not say that I was bullied in today’s sense of the word, I certainly was picked on for my looks.

In retrospect, I believe that having been picked on, though certainly not pleasant at the time taught me some good lessons about toughness. Not physical toughness, but mental. It takes quite a bit to get me rattled, and I’m not too proud to go to the corner gas station in my PJ bottoms and coat to get a gallon of milk at 6AM. I don’t wear make-up on a daily basis, though I am kind of particular about how my hair looks (another physical trait about which I was teased).

All that said, pity the fool who makes fun of either of my childrens’ appearances. My older son has eyes the size of saucers. Coupled with some of his facial expressions, they remind me of the Precious Moments collectables. My younger son could be the older one’s twin at this age, with two exceptions: his eyes are blue/hazel instead of brown, and he’s got a mild case of plagiocephaly due to undiagnosed congenital torticollis. The tort has pretty much resolved. And, while the the plagiocephaly has markedly improved, it hasn’t (and maybe won’t) resolve entirely without the use of a helmet.

Now, in my estimation things aren’t so bad that he needs a helmet (the doctor may determine otherwise, we’ll find out later this month). The average person can’t tell by looking at his face that he’s anything but perfect. But, if you look at him from the top of his head down, the asymmetry of his head is noticable. Therein lies my fear. Just like any parent, I carefully guard my childrens’ hearts from unnecessary hurt. I remember what it was like to get teased about my appearance (for six years, give or take) and am fearful that some uncaring little child will see this minor imperfection in my boy and exploit it.

Again, the asymmetry isn’t so staggering that anyone would know without being told (or looking at him from the crown of his head down). I feel that I’m doing what’s best for my child, but there are these little voices that echo in the back of my head and remind me just how cruel children can be to one another.

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~ by pe2nia1 on January 7, 2011.

 
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