Why I Embrace My Kids' Raucous Language and Lack of Formal Manners

I recently found myself cringing in a parenting situation.

We were meeting with prospective landlords, an elderly couple considering us as tenants for their winter home. The house was stunning, and from the porch alone, I knew it was ideal. I was keen to portray us as an ideal family fit for this lovely abode.

As the couple bent down to greet my 7-year-old son, Oscar, he turned away, resistant to engagement. The woman tried again to connect, but Oscar remained fixated on wanting a screen. To diffuse the situation, I passed him my phone and directed focus to my 5-year-old daughter, Molly, our unofficial family diplomat. Molly’s warmth and friendliness fill a void that Oscar, in such settings, does not.

During these exchanges, there's a constant urge to apologize for Oscar’s apparent lack of etiquette and assure onlookers that we are the kind of family that belongs 'here' — wherever 'here' may be.

But then I recollect that my children's conduct doesn't define their worth — nor mine.

In Praise of My Extraordinary Kids

Oscar is a vibrant tapestry of curiosity, humor, and inventiveness, but these don’t echo through him as Molly's charisma might. He doesn’t engage in chit-chat with adults; instead, he may frown, remain silent, or mumble, rather than greet them with a smile.

Such behavior is not unusual in children with neurodivergent traits. Common social expectations — like greeting on demand, maintaining eye contact, or pretending interest in conversations — aren’t instinctual for those with neurodivergence.

Oscar hasn’t been formally identified as autistic, but he exhibits several traits, including a pragmatic speech disorder. This disorder indicates that his interpersonal communication doesn’t align with the 'social norms' many people take as given. For instance, when asked about his meal preferences, he might ignore the question, then abruptly say, 'Hungry!' instead of a courteous, 'No thank you, I would prefer something else.'

Authentic Interaction Over Superficial Niceties

Both Oscar and his parents have diagnoses of generalized and social anxiety, complicating social situations. I'm aware that anxiety and discomfort can appear rude to others. When pressed by others — like when they demand Oscar to say thank you after receiving candy or explain his costume — the pressure often drives him into retreat. I empathize, knowing he feels watched, judged, and little understood.

Even Molly, our outgoing helper, doesn't conform to traditional polite standards. In our household, there's no word deemed too harsh, so colorful language is common. The reality is, this isn't just my children’s way — my husband and I are straightforward, sometimes sharp, and always genuine.

Many adults still expect traditional manners from kids, like prompt 'please' and 'thank you' as if those words reflect deeper into their core. They might think a child's lack of courtesy speaks poorly of their upbringing. Occasionally, I worry about perceptions from those unfamiliar with my child’s challenges, fearing they judge our parenting. Then I recall it truly doesn’t matter what others think, even when circumstances make it seem important — like during a rental application.

Thankfully, there are understanding souls — like our future landlords (yes, we secured the property!). On Oscar's second refusal to engage, comprehension dawned. These individuals recognized our children aren’t broken or disrespectful, merely honest in an unfettered way adults may find challenging.

I’ve grown to admire this candor. Observing my children, I learn daily that true belonging doesn’t stem from bowing to societal niceties, but from embracing who you are — even if that means meeting the world with a frown and some choice words.