My Beautiful Wickedness


Simple things. Or not.
April 24, 2007, 9:22 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

I am a fan of simple. My house has hardwood floors that my husband refinished when we moved in. They look great and they are easy to clean, so I don’t mess them up with rugs. I have no curtains. There are blinds in the bedrooms, but the downstairs rooms have nothing. I don’t have a lot of knicknacks (this will surprise my long-time friends, as I was the queen of Victorian-grade clutter in college). I like simple food — bread, wine, pasta, and salad will do me fine. I wear a lot of black and beige and white, and when I’m really feeling crazy, dark blue.

My kid likes complex. She makes up games with complicated rules, where all the players have to have multiple identities and attributes. She likes noise and movement. She gravitates to bright colors and patterns like a human honeybee — she rocked it harajuku style long before Gwen Stefani entered her consciousness. While she’s orderly enough (thank you, Maria Montessori), she is a packrat.

She piles; I sort. She’s a rollercoaster; I’m a meadow. She is kinetic; I am static. She is super-social and charismatic; I am introspective and fumble for words in casual interactions. She’s all about eye-contact; I strike people as evasive or uninterested because I’m shy and will glance away. She is a light-hearted clown; I’m often crabby and morose. How did I wind up with a kid like this, who is many things that I would like to be but am not?

I wonder how she’s going to be when she grows up. Is this extroverted, high-energy, high-verbal, leggy blonde with the quick wit and lively intellect going to turn into the meditative housecat that her mother has become (complete with periodic metaphorical messes on the bed) or will she continue on her current trajectory? What can I learn from her ebullience? What can I teach her about cultivating an inner life that may be of use to her?

She’s killing all my cheap stereotypes. There’s something to complex after all.

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