Left Handed
Being “left handed” puts a person in the “minority.”
“Stigma” is often associated with “condition,” although it’s not one I share.
The gene pool around here is a bit messy. My husband is the only lefty, so when the progeny started to appear I made sure that I had a watchful eye.
Would they be lefties?
Would they be righties?
I’d done my homework. I knew, some, of the issues that can arise if a natural lefty is forced in a contrary direction. Being the superior parent that I am, I soon noticed that writing implements were not a popular choice. There were many to chose from, always readily available.
I was prepared for children who write on walls and other inappropriate places. That’s just part and parcel for childhood. I was prepared. When no such event occurred, I concluded, obviously, that my children were far more exceptionally good than I had anticipated. Unexpectedly, I found myself yearn for a graffiti artist, one or two, but this development also failed to materialize. I concluded, logically, that my writing materials were just too dull to entice engagement. This inspired me to spend far too much money on vast quantities of far more interesting implements because some people are penny-wise and pound-foolish, especially when the local currency is dollars and cents.
There were other things of course, with hindsight.
I knew that I had American children and that therefore I must attempt to teach ball skills, not one of my strengths but duty called. My daughter was a natural, dog and bone. Throw the ball and the child became attached.
So easy.
The boys on the other hand, were quite another matter but I had to give them a sporting chance. I can still remember the look when I threw the ball, a large textured creature for ease of grasp, in a gentle upward curve towards the middle of the body, when it dropped like a stone at his feet and rolled away. It’s a cat ‘s disdain when you thrown a stick, “and your point is what exactly?”
So what is my point here, exactly?
My point is, that for me at least that I was so busy fiddling with the minutiae that I completely failed to take in the big picture. I’m still adjusting my lens to this day.
May 22nd, 2009 at 1:46 am
The only way to effectively draw from life a picture of ones right hand is to use the left
May 22nd, 2009 at 4:17 am
Huh? I’ve seen people draw their right hand with their right hand. One of those “recursive hand drawing itself drawing itself drawing itself” type things…
Anyway, cool post. Cat’s disdain indeed
May 22nd, 2009 at 5:38 am
In our case, neither parent is left handed but both boys are! Quite a surprise I must say. Both grandfathers are lefties though. Oh, how many times I’ve seen the “what is your point exactly” look. Also, I left Patrick’s first and only forray into graffiti firmly on his wall. I still tear up when I look at those little stick people with huge faces drawn in red crayon.
May 22nd, 2009 at 6:13 am
profound !
My son exhibits the same catlike disdain
May 22nd, 2009 at 7:30 am
We all are.
May 22nd, 2009 at 8:20 am
Oh, yes. As you were throwing that ball at them, they were off building whole new planets! No wonder they found your piddling efforts bemusing.
For the record: in our family of four, three of us are lefties. My husband is the minority right-hander.
May 22nd, 2009 at 10:14 am
In our house parents are lefties, kids are right. I’m one of the few lefties I’ve ever met that doesn’t write upside-down. I turn the page nearly 45degrees to the right instead.
I had the OT check b/c I wondered if they were just mirroring us but it appears they are both righties.
S.
May 22nd, 2009 at 10:22 am
I did have one graffiti artist-I had one whole room look like an N.Y.C. subway train circa 1975…I don’t think my “lens” will ever be quite adjusted…just when I think it is in focus-the view changes!
May 22nd, 2009 at 2:20 pm
We have a lefty in each generation – my dad, my sister, and my younger son. Back then I was so busy with various therapies for both sons that I have no recollection of when I first noticed the lefthandedness. Probably his OT was the one who told me!
May 22nd, 2009 at 2:53 pm
Of course I have a strange relationship with my hands, in that my left hand will often do what it wants without my bidding and I am scarcely even aware that my right even belongs to my body at all, thats hemisomotognosia for you