Better Than Picking His Nose

Here at The Quirky Mustache, we embrace and accept all quirks--physical, vocal, and all of those in-between. 

This was once Logan's sock. (RIP Hanes white ankle), now it's a new dust rag. I have piles of these. Like, piles in the laundry room. Why do you think I go to Target so much. I should purchase stock in Hanes. 

Picking at his socks in not new, he's been at it for some time, but before that he picked at his mattress and waistband of his boxers. Logan apologizes when he annalates his socks. I tell him, "Don't worry about it. We all have quirks."

We do. Every single one of us. We don't have to be on a spectrum or have a psychological disturbance to have quirks. That seems to be the viewpoint with some. I was having a discussion about this topic with a woman and she seemed to think that she didn't possess a quirk. Not even when she was stressed or nervous. 

Interesting.

I observed her picking at her cuticles. I brought it to her attention. She stopped and looked around as if the cuticle police were lurking around the corner. 

People pace, twirl their hair, bit their nails (me). We all do something to release an emotion. 

When Logan was younger, he would shake his head. I feared his brain was being swished about inside of his skull. It was his release when he was excited. When he was nervous, he bit his hand. We quickly saw that when one physical quirk stopped, another began. As he has gotten older, he has confined his sock picking to home or at his best friend's house, where he feels comfortable.

We were asked many of times, "Why does he shake his head? When will it stop? Can't he control it?"

I asked his doctors the same questions. Funny, my favorite doctor asked, "What would you like us to do? Strap a device to his head and anchor it to his shoulders?"

The visual is...well, but, no, I didn't want to do that. I just didn't want kids to make fun of him any more. This was pre-homeschool and the constant taunting was wearing us down. Sadly, when people saw his quirks they assumed he was unintelligent. I've had it said to me so I know it to be true. The mama bear in me would poke them in the shoulder (verbally, of course) of my son's genius and brilliance. Einstein didn't have anything on Logan.

There came a time when I didn't say that either. I didn't have to prove a thing to anyone. Neither did Logan. 

People are quick to judge if what they see doesn't fit into their "normal" size box. Even though inside their normal size box, is an uneven octagon. The outer shell is what matters. Neighbors, PTA moms, and grandparents only should see the perfect box, with the pretty bow on top. Not the messy, wrapped, tape all over, patchy box.

The other night, I caught myself doing one of my physical quirks in front of husband. At first, I was mortified. He looked at me puzzled. Not because of my excited quirk of rubbing the palms of my hands together and clapping 3 times. He looked at me that way because I apologized for doing it. 

Now I know where Logan's gets it from. 

Does that make me weird? 

Duh. But, if you know me and my boys, we embrace weird. 

To my quirky people...QUIRK OUT! 
Spread the quirky love. 
Don't apologize.
Don't explain.
If your friends ask, well, they don't get it. My closest, dearest friends have never, EVER, once asked, "Why does Logan do that?" "Why do you do that?"
They love us.
Quirks and all.
That's the way it should be. 

Let's be honest. I would rather have Logan pick at his socks than other...things or places.