Superpower #22: Originality

A few weeks ago, I came across a Facebook memory I had posted back in 2009. It reminded me of yet another of your many amazing traits, and so I chose originality as your 22^nd superpower.  You are unabashedly, unapologetically yourself. On that 3^rd birthday post, I said, “Dawn has the world’s coolest 3-year-old. Top 3 reasons: 1. Spiderman cake, 2. Her favorite presents: a racetrack, a light up necklace, and a ballerina doll (she likes what she likes, no theme required), 3. She gladly gave her brother the first piece of cake.” I remember that day so well, maybe because I snapped this adorable picture of you, one of my all-time favorites because it reminds me so much of who you are. You were always so cheerful and easygoing, and you had no idea why you should be confined to any one theme or genre of toys or interests. Like I mentioned in a recent post, you love sports, but you love art as well. When you were 3, you loved princesses, and you loved superheroes, too. You gladly wore hand-me-down clothes from both your brother and your sister, equally drawn to frilly dresses and spiderman t-shirts. You have always been your own, original self.

Being the “middlest” of our 5 kids with a brother and sister above and a brother and sister below has always put you in a bit of a quandary. We often found ourselves splitting the family up on vacations and weekends to ensure everyone had some sort of age-appropriate activities to enjoy. With almost 8 years between your oldest sister and your youngest brother, we often struggled to find adventures that matched the interests and abilities of both groups. Our solution was often to split in half; Grace and Sam heading off with your Dad to the big kid adventures (the largest roller coasters, the biggest waves etc.). I typically stayed back with Lucy and Clay in the kiddie pools and toddler parks. You were often caught in between. You were always big and strong and athletic, so often the big kid adventures appealed to you. I remember standing at the bottom of a monstrous water slide when you were maybe four years old. If you stretched to your very tallest, you were juuust barely above the “you must be this tall to ride” mark at the entrance to the ride, and (of course) your dad believed you were good to go. I looked up from the bottom, with Lucy on my hip, to see your beaming little face careening down the impossibly high, big-kid slide, shrieking with joy and excitement. You were brave and confident and never seemed to mind challenging yourself to keep up with the big kids.

But, just as often, you preferred to stay back with me and the little kids. I remember a lovely afternoon in Cancun when we visited there with your Lueken cousins. The rest of the family traipsed off to a snorkeling and cenote adventure, and you reached for my hand and asked to stay with me. I was always happy to have you along, and I admit I worried that your dad would push you too hard on activities and challenges that you weren’t quite ready for. We found a nearly deserted rooftop pool that afternoon and played “dolphin trainer” for hours. You and Lucy were the dolphins, and I was the trainer. (Clayton, also a cheerful and easy-going child, bopped around in his baby life jacket, content to splash around near the steps and watch his sisters play). You happily swam circles and did leaps and twirls for “fish treats” (French fries from the swim-up bar) in the blazing Mexican sun.

It was the same the first time we visited Walt Disney World when you were 3. You were tall enough for many of the big-kid rides, but many times you preferred to stay with me and the littles. Your dad would often try and push you to join him (perhaps because he didn’t want to ride alone or with a stranger?), but I always spoke up in your defense. You grew up as fast as you could, and I was always happy to slow your roll a little bit when you wanted to. You were brave and strong and athletic, and you were welcome to stay my little girl as long as you desired.

As the years have passed, you continue to have to choose if you are a big kid or a little kid. It showed up again most recently on our summer family trip to Las Vegas. The big kids both enjoy the occasional (or more frequent) alcoholic beverage, as, I’m fully aware, do you. Due to a certain lack of restraint (also one of your trademark characteristics), you have had a few bad experiences with drinking, so you are sometimes hesitant to jump in. Dad and I would have looked the other way if you had wanted to indulge in a drink or two on vacation, though of course the younger two weren’t partaking. In this circumstance, again, you opted to align yourself with the younger kids, and again, I supported and applauded your choice. You are your own, super-original self and you should always decide what makes the most sense for you.

I know you did when you were in preschool. You used to insist on wearing a tank top year-round, and I repeatedly had to send you back upstairs to change when you came downstairs in January wearing a tiny shirt designed for the hottest weather. On more than one occasion, you would begrudgingly don a sweatshirt or sweater, but by the time pickups rolled around, you would be wearing your tank top again. You would hide it beneath a warmer garment and abandon as soon as possible after you arrived at school. It didn’t matter to you that others were wearing more weather-appropriate clothing. You were hot, and you liked the tank top, end of story.

So, yes, originality is most certainly one of your superpowers, and one that I look forward to seeing you continue to manifest in your future. You do you, boo. Everyone else is taken.