I’m having one of those “I wonder if we’re too quirky for our own good” here in Motherhoodlandvilleburbia moments.
Hmmmm.
It will pass, I’m sure.
I’m having one of those “I wonder if we’re too quirky for our own good” here in Motherhoodlandvilleburbia moments.
Hmmmm.
It will pass, I’m sure.
HA! No way. Quirky is good. Quirky is creative, thoughtful, and unique. Quirky means not paying attention to fads, trends, or mindless drivel. It means being who you are and what you are not giving credence to those who would shake their heads and think less of you… which means they are simply “thinking less,” which may or may not make sense.
I love quirky.
No, no, a million times no. The richness of the memories of a childhood lived without the traditional constraints of needing to be normal will carry them over some much shit as adults. Pardon my foul mouth, I grew up not needing to be normal 😉
I’ll take quirky ANY DAY over boring conformity. Shine on, crazy diamonds!
I pretty much wonder if I’m too quirky for my own good ALL THE TIME.
The Stepford moms bore me, and their kids bore my kids.
I have warned my girls to learn the lesson their father never has, that either you have to be a sheeple and blend in or march to your own drummer and expect people to think you’re quirky. He wants to be himself on his own terms, but gets huffy when people find his clothing/habits/etc eccentric.
And they are. But I love him just as he is. Especially because I know he likes me just as I am….