The Queen of Smells
When I was a child, I could smell everything. I still can.
I knew what sneeze smelled like. Do you know what sneeze smells like? Sneeze smells just like the smell of cinnamon gum being chewed by someone right next to you (like on the bus, car, or at the movie theater). Just utterly repulsive. Sneeze is the same smell as wet maple trees in the fall in New England. Like a giant sneezed all over every single maple tree on a rainy day and left his sneeze smell on them for you to enjoy during your stroll home from a long day of teaching.
Imagine the third child of three children in three years yelling bloody murder when her big brother sneezed in the car and the windows could not roll (yes manually roll) down fast enough. Then, the whole car would get hot and humid because you live on a tropical island and it is 98F and humid outside. The car's mediocre AC was always better than the air outside for those who were not a lizard as I was. There were also the times when I would sneeze on myself and have to go and change my shirt (sometimes the whole outfit if I sneezed sitting down). Yes, I had to change. This was not a big problem if I was at home. But, it was quite the problem if I was at school or church. You might think "sneeze away from yourself" which would then require me to sneeze on my arm. Washing my arm would be easier but the chances of my teacher letting me go to the bathroom that often during allergy or sniffles season was slim. At church, going to the bathroom was not an option given that the bathroom was so far from the actual church and at night I was not doing that trek (yes we were night church goers). Besides, my beloved Puerto Rican church was quite the fun time with dancing, singing, and praying. I did not want to miss out.
I could smell the neighbor's house from my house. Let me explain. They had one macaw, an iguana, two dogs, and I believe they also had gerbils. Anyone would have agreed that their house had a strong smell. I hated going in their house despite loving each one of the four kids and their mom. I had to hold my breath until I made it to their back porch and that could be a long time given that there were at least three people I would pass and who would say hi and tell me how darn cute I was. I loved the attention and yet I was holding my breath the whole time. Why was I there so much? Well, my mom and my neighbor were best friends and shared a most beautiful friendship on that back porch while we kids swam in the pool.
I could smell butter from a mile away and I hated it. This was the possibly the greatest challenges that came with my superpower smelling capabilities. First because butter was in EVERYTHING when I was a kid growing up in Brazil. Secondly, in the early 80s, plastic cups were still very expensive in my native country of Brazil. So, I was used to drinking in small (cute) glass cups. However, my best friends Juliana and Roberta had plastic cups at their house. Whats the problem with plastic cups? Well they smell like butter. Or to me they did. If I went to these friends' house I had to hold my breath to drink water and after I drank it I had that butter smell in me. Having butter smell in me made me feel like my lungs were made of butter scented oxygen. If my mom put butter on my sandwich for school, I would not eat it. Yes, I would not eat it and I was a hungry-all-the-time kind of kid. Eventually, I started asking people for glass cups.
Needless to say, I got a lot of looks when I was a kid. Those did not bother me so much. It was the folks who would say, "sneeze doesn't have a smell" or "butter smells good" and my least favorite "if you are hungry enough you would eat it." That last one hit at my very last nerve. This is when I would have internal meltdowns given that I knew very well that external meltdowns were not acceptable. Not when you are at church, at school, or at a friend's house. I reserved meltdown for my home and preferably when my brother was not around. Although, thinking back now he was probably always around until we were much older.
I share this amazing superpower for two main reasons.
First, when a child (or adult) tells you that she can smell or taste things like plastic, metal, or any substance; believe her. If said child shows signs of total systems shutdown after being told to suck it up and drink or eat that which they do not want to ingest because of the smell she says alters her ability to eat or drink said thing; believe that she is not wanting to ruin your day, the party, or the evening. She is not yet able to ingest this but might at a later point.
Second, while I had these smells that I could not tolerate there were others that I could not get enough of and to the outside world it did not add up. Scratch and sniff grape stickers, the scented rubber Blueberry Muffin doll (from the early 80s), and orange Crush soda were my top favorite smells. I would spend all day with any of these items glued to my nostrils if I thought it socially appropriate. As for taste, I loved the tip of matches (before and after burning), dipping my hair "by accident" on my school's red beans lunch and then sucking on it at recess when no one would fully make the connection that I had purposely dipped my hair in the beans and saved it for later enjoyment.
Yes, I did that. True confessions of a sensory sensitive superpower Goddess like me.
I share so that if you have a sweet sensitive soul whose superpower is one of his/her senses, you will honor that which they experience. Nowadays there are occupational therapies and strategies that we know help students become more desensitized to certain sensory inputs or outputs. But, I wanted to share that even though I did not get therapy, I learned to believe in my senses and see them as a superpower not a deficit. I call it a Sensory Processing Difference (not disorder) or SPD for short, as the disorder is called, because I believe that when provided supports children will thrive and benefit from their senses being so powerful. I know that in my journey, I have benefited greatly from my differences as have my children with their own sensory superpowers.
Be well in your courageous unfolding.
I knew what sneeze smelled like. Do you know what sneeze smells like? Sneeze smells just like the smell of cinnamon gum being chewed by someone right next to you (like on the bus, car, or at the movie theater). Just utterly repulsive. Sneeze is the same smell as wet maple trees in the fall in New England. Like a giant sneezed all over every single maple tree on a rainy day and left his sneeze smell on them for you to enjoy during your stroll home from a long day of teaching.
Imagine the third child of three children in three years yelling bloody murder when her big brother sneezed in the car and the windows could not roll (yes manually roll) down fast enough. Then, the whole car would get hot and humid because you live on a tropical island and it is 98F and humid outside. The car's mediocre AC was always better than the air outside for those who were not a lizard as I was. There were also the times when I would sneeze on myself and have to go and change my shirt (sometimes the whole outfit if I sneezed sitting down). Yes, I had to change. This was not a big problem if I was at home. But, it was quite the problem if I was at school or church. You might think "sneeze away from yourself" which would then require me to sneeze on my arm. Washing my arm would be easier but the chances of my teacher letting me go to the bathroom that often during allergy or sniffles season was slim. At church, going to the bathroom was not an option given that the bathroom was so far from the actual church and at night I was not doing that trek (yes we were night church goers). Besides, my beloved Puerto Rican church was quite the fun time with dancing, singing, and praying. I did not want to miss out.
I could smell the neighbor's house from my house. Let me explain. They had one macaw, an iguana, two dogs, and I believe they also had gerbils. Anyone would have agreed that their house had a strong smell. I hated going in their house despite loving each one of the four kids and their mom. I had to hold my breath until I made it to their back porch and that could be a long time given that there were at least three people I would pass and who would say hi and tell me how darn cute I was. I loved the attention and yet I was holding my breath the whole time. Why was I there so much? Well, my mom and my neighbor were best friends and shared a most beautiful friendship on that back porch while we kids swam in the pool.
I could smell butter from a mile away and I hated it. This was the possibly the greatest challenges that came with my superpower smelling capabilities. First because butter was in EVERYTHING when I was a kid growing up in Brazil. Secondly, in the early 80s, plastic cups were still very expensive in my native country of Brazil. So, I was used to drinking in small (cute) glass cups. However, my best friends Juliana and Roberta had plastic cups at their house. Whats the problem with plastic cups? Well they smell like butter. Or to me they did. If I went to these friends' house I had to hold my breath to drink water and after I drank it I had that butter smell in me. Having butter smell in me made me feel like my lungs were made of butter scented oxygen. If my mom put butter on my sandwich for school, I would not eat it. Yes, I would not eat it and I was a hungry-all-the-time kind of kid. Eventually, I started asking people for glass cups.
Needless to say, I got a lot of looks when I was a kid. Those did not bother me so much. It was the folks who would say, "sneeze doesn't have a smell" or "butter smells good" and my least favorite "if you are hungry enough you would eat it." That last one hit at my very last nerve. This is when I would have internal meltdowns given that I knew very well that external meltdowns were not acceptable. Not when you are at church, at school, or at a friend's house. I reserved meltdown for my home and preferably when my brother was not around. Although, thinking back now he was probably always around until we were much older.
I share this amazing superpower for two main reasons.
First, when a child (or adult) tells you that she can smell or taste things like plastic, metal, or any substance; believe her. If said child shows signs of total systems shutdown after being told to suck it up and drink or eat that which they do not want to ingest because of the smell she says alters her ability to eat or drink said thing; believe that she is not wanting to ruin your day, the party, or the evening. She is not yet able to ingest this but might at a later point.
Second, while I had these smells that I could not tolerate there were others that I could not get enough of and to the outside world it did not add up. Scratch and sniff grape stickers, the scented rubber Blueberry Muffin doll (from the early 80s), and orange Crush soda were my top favorite smells. I would spend all day with any of these items glued to my nostrils if I thought it socially appropriate. As for taste, I loved the tip of matches (before and after burning), dipping my hair "by accident" on my school's red beans lunch and then sucking on it at recess when no one would fully make the connection that I had purposely dipped my hair in the beans and saved it for later enjoyment.
Yes, I did that. True confessions of a sensory sensitive superpower Goddess like me.
I share so that if you have a sweet sensitive soul whose superpower is one of his/her senses, you will honor that which they experience. Nowadays there are occupational therapies and strategies that we know help students become more desensitized to certain sensory inputs or outputs. But, I wanted to share that even though I did not get therapy, I learned to believe in my senses and see them as a superpower not a deficit. I call it a Sensory Processing Difference (not disorder) or SPD for short, as the disorder is called, because I believe that when provided supports children will thrive and benefit from their senses being so powerful. I know that in my journey, I have benefited greatly from my differences as have my children with their own sensory superpowers.
Be well in your courageous unfolding.
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