My Water Smells Like Bleach

I have a funky, sensitive sense of smell. I can smell things a mile away. I can smell the rain before it hits. I can tell what DH had for lunch when he walks in the door.

When I was pregnant, I found that my heightened sense of smell became more, well, heightened. Add to that a fabulous gag reflex (from which I have yet to recover) and it made for an interesting pregnancy both times. I would get sick cleaning up Shadow's piles in the yard or going by a fast-food restaurant. The smell of cooked food in my house (especially meat, blame that on my former vegetarianism!) makes me irritable. I do not like my hair picking up the scent of french fries or coffee from quicky places, I have to go home and wash my hair immediately. I cannot explain it.

I cannot stand to smell other people's perfumes, soaps or (yes, I can smell this) makeup. My sister-in-law is the queen of beauty products and I can smell when she has had her nails done recently. She (and my brother) wear TONS of cologne and perfume. They are constantly burning candles in their home and it is all I can do to not run screaming from their house. I usually leave there with a headache.

For some time I have been trying to imagine what it is like for my children. Their sensory issues sometimes get in the way of "normal" functioning. If the announcements in Tarzhay are too loud, they clap their hands over their ears. My favorite Goodwill store has an issue with their radio so it sounds staticky and distorted (not to mention the fact that they play it way too loud) and the boys scream when we go there. They need all tags removed from their clothing, do not like socks with any words stitched in the bottom (good luck finding 'em without the stitching!) and prefer 100% cotton. It makes life fun shopping for them! No wool, no polyester, nothing. Just cotton. The sound of a garbage truck sends them into a tizzy. When our neighbors had trees removed a few months ago I had to keep our windows closed and the air on for a week in seventy-degree weather. They just could not stand the noise.

I have no idea if they have inherited my sense of smell. Bug Boy seems to noticed things the way I do and Bugaboo will not go near my mother, who wears at least a bottle of old-lady-Estee-Lauder each time I see her. Mix that with the cigarette smoke and you have one interesting waft of aromas as she enters my humble abode. If I cannot stand it I cannot imagine how the boys feel. They seem to react the way I feel, except that I am an adult and have sort of figured out how to keep it in. I do recall that as a child I did not like smells or loud noises and still do not.

Darling is not much better. He is the 100%-cotton-no-tags-in-clothing-passer-onner-of-those-genes. He also does not like touching sand paper or emery boards and the sound of a ceramic cookie jar opening causes him pain. He likes back rubs and hot baths but does not like restrictive clothing or seat belts (although I insist he wears one). He likes the massaging reclining chair we have and I loathe it. One kid likes it (Bugaboo) the other prefers not to have it on when he is in the house (Bug Boy).

I suppose that my point (if there is one) is that the apples really do not fall too far from these trees. All of the issues that make our day-to-day life challenging are not far from their original source. While some of their issues are pervasive, many of them are somewhat typical. I guess their reactions to these stimuli are what set them apart from other children. I cannot blame their delays on what irks them since I would not consider Darling and I delayed and we have the same issues. However, depending on whom you converse with, Darling and I did have delays. Not cognitive, as we were both identified as "gifted" (whatever!) but I recognize now that Darling's late talking, my social awkwardness and lack of friends, his lack of socializing, and our sensory issues could indicate that we were just like our children. It does run in families.

You know something? I think we both turned out fine. It may have been more difficult for us to do things like our peers (like, fine and gross motor skills) but we turned out fine! Our boys will be short and probably will not be star athletes. They are obsessed with technology and computers (go figure!). They like cars and music to the point of perseveration. Is that such a bad thing? OK, my kids are different. But so are we! So who am I to say that they should be "more like their peers." Is it not OK to be individuals?

The next time Bug Boy needs a tag cut out or claps his hands over his ears, I am just going to remember that it isn't weird behavior, he is just being himself! And that is alright by me!