Tell us something odd about your birth family

In My Humble Opinion
1

Except for my oldest brother (our father’s namesake), and my baby sister (whose name the elder 7 siblings voted on), my mother chose all our names. Nothing unusual there, except that in each case she gave us as our middle names the name she actually intended to use. She did this deliberately. She also named each of us something based on whatever book she was reading at the time we were born.

My baby sister/best friend and I both hate our given names and use either our last names or diminuatives of same to identify ourselves. Both our spouses address us by last name. Obviously this seems strange between the two of us, so we typically address one another by initial–although she, at times, still calls me “Big Budda.” (She could not pronounce brother when she was little.)

Anybody else?

2

I share my father’s birthday, and my older (the second oldest, I’m the youngest of three) sister shares my mothers’; my oldest sisters’ first daughter’s birthday is only two days after her own, and middle sister’s second child’s due date is in turn her birthday.

3

In that vein, my daughter, wife and stepmother all share the same birthday.

And since some of you know I was born and raised in Arkansas, I feel I have to point out that these are indeed three seperate people.

My brother is a III, even though the II only lived a few days. I guess that makes sense, but it’s still…different.

4

Holiday birthdays run in my family: mom is Halloween, dad is sometimes Election Day, sister is frequently on or near Thanksgiving, and uncle is Christmas Eve.

Mine’s 3 days before St. Patrick’s day, but that’s not nearly as exciting.

5

I have a sister (adopted) who is also my neice (biological child of a different sister) and my Aunt (married my uncle).

The Uncle she married was Uncle Reg, who had previously been married to my Aunt Reg (Regina). Aunt Reg had some sort of illness that affected her limbs; every time I saw her, she was part of a limb down, till, eventually, she had no legs and just a stump left of one arm, just long enough for her to get a cigarette to her mouth.

6

Lots of people in our family go by their middle names (and were named knowing that this would be the case). My mom, both my uncles, and both my kids are called by their middle names.

I too, would have been called by my middle name if Mom had gotten her way. She wanted to give us the middle names Michael and Michelle, and call us Mike and Mickey. shudder

7

My mother, both of her daughters, and I spend most holidays at my aunt’s house. She’s the ex-wife of my paternal uncle, my mom and dad divorced before I was born, and both of my sisters are related to me through my mother only, meaning none of us are actually related to my aunt biologically or legally.

8

OMG, where to start? Get this one.

My mother’s family has three sisters. Let’s call the middle one Patti.

Patti, in her late twenties, moved in with another woman. Let’s call her Betty. As far as I know, they’re not lesbians. Just two close friends sharing rent. Then when I was born, Patti’s engagement was broken (Patti is not my mother but my aunt. But it doesn’t matter. I was born out of wedlock, and the stigma hit her too.)
So basically Betty gave up all of her dreams to stay with Patti forever. (This is why I think sexuality & love are two different things and WAY more flexible than we like to believe).
So Betty’s been in the family since before I was born. She’s like, 10 years younger than Patti. (Betty was Patti’s student).
So since she’s so much younger, I was always taught to call Patti my aunt and Betty my sister.
Ok. But Betty’s like 15 years older than me. So I really think of her as an aunt, even though I call her sister.
Fast forward a lot of years. Patti meets this young man in India who is my age and is convinced this is her son, just born to another mother. So they start jumping through immigration hoops. Let’s call him Arthur. They are unable to find any other way so eventually Arthur gets engaged to Betty, and then marries Betty, to come to this country.
Fine and dandy - except since Arthur is only a year older than me, I call him older brother. And then they fall in love, so the marriage is going to be permanent. Right.
So right now I have my brother married to my sister. Neither of whom are blood relations, of course. But I can either call her sister-in-law or him brother-in-law. However, I’ve always called her sister, and I also happen to think he is my brother born to a different mother, so I call him brother. (really, he was meant to be in our family.)
To top it all off they live with my aunt Patti who has adopted HIM as her son…leaving Betty as my sister in name but Arthur as my brother legally…living with his mother and her mother-in-law legally but her best friend and his mother emotionally.

TOP THAT FOR STRANGENESS, MOTHERFUCKERS!

9

Most families are either religious or secular, right? No, my family has to be weird about it.

Both my parents were born secular, but my mother has become increasingly Orthodox. My dad, on the other hand, is constantly getting annoyed with “all this religious stuff”. As you can imagine, it makes for some tense situations, especially Shabbat and holidays.

So far, most of us have taken after my mother.

10

I think I did. :smiley:

OK, a few other little things:

My brother J, who is ten years younger than me, had a two year relationship with my neice L, who is about 12 years younger than me.

Including step-siblings, I have 25 brothers and sisters. One of them has 11 children, one has six (another on the way), one has seven, one has three and the rest just have two or three each.

Three of my four Grandparents died in unusual ways. One was murdered (and her ashes are in a Roman crypt at the Tower), one was killed by an exploding TV set, and one was accidentally killed by a burglar. The remaining Grandad lasted till he was 84 despite being a Glaswegian who’d spent sixty years drinking a bottle of whisky every day and chainsmoking rollies.

Recent family tree research by one of my Aunts revealed that we’re not completely white - one great-grandmother was black African, and one Great-Grandfather was a Lascar, a sailor from Bengal. Interesting to think of their mixed-race children growing up in the East End in Edwardian times.

Another ancestor was a great friend and possibly lover of Queen Victoria.

Divorce is a family tradition. My parents have each been married four times. My mother’s parents were divorced, as were her mother’s parents, and her grandmother’s parents before that. Apparently, for their divorce, they had to get permission from the Queen. I have broken this chain by never getting married.

At any one point there have always been at least 3 members of my immediate family (siblings and neices and nephews) serving in the armed forces - the rest, apart from one neice, work in healthcare.

My Grandad had two sisters called Aggie (Agnes); the second one was named after the first one, who’d died at the age of ten or so.

‘Love children’ turn up every five years or so having been secretly fathered by one or other of my family.

One of my brothers served time for murder but is now a multi-millionaire who is, unfortunately, not very generous.

Seven of my siblings, as well as my Dad, all converted to Catholicism, but for reasons that had nothing to do with each other - they often weren’t even in touch with each other at the time.

I could go on, but that’ll do.

11

I’m not even going to bother with mine. Thanks, Anaamika and scifisam2009 :slight_smile:

12

My older brother’s name rhymes with mine (I’m Jett; he’s Rhett). He hates that fact so much that since boyhood he’s gone by his middle name, Kyle.

Oh, and he has a third nipple.

13

My sister the lesbian, who hated our family and did not want one of her own, gave birth to a daughter at age 16, had a 20 year relationship with a woman who had three daughters, and they raised the four children. After her partner died and her children grew up, she found another woman, who had two daughters by AI and whom my sister adopted.

She’s had two wives and six daughters.

14

Meh. Anaamika and scifisam2009, I am sure I could top you both with the dysfunctional oddities, but I will stick to the funny/silly oddities.

Supposedly this was not on purpose, just a function of my parents agreeing on names – both of my brothers have the same initials – TRS (not really, but example), and my sister and I share the same initials – DJS (again, not really). What makes it odd is that my eldest brother is a half-brother, so his birth initials (my dad adopted him, so his legal name has the right initials for the pattern) would be different.

When my father first met my mother, he was stationed in Mountain Home, ID with the USAF. He had married a woman from his hometown, but she had only married him to get out of her parents’ home and left him the minute he moved her away (he filed for and won a divorce against her – this was in the late 50’s, early 60’s). My mother was working in a restaurant and waited on my dad, who told her “I am going to marry you one day.” She laughed it off as she was still a teenager and didn’t know my father from Adam. Several years later, he was stationed in Boise and she was working in a restaurant there, again she waited on him, and they began dating and eventually married.

I have an Aunt Joseph. Not short for Josephine – her name is Joseph Allen <lastname> Jr. When my grandmother was pregnant with her, my grandfather made the declaration that the next child born would be a junior, no matter what – so when it was a baby girl, he stuck to his word and she grew up being called “Jo” – very few people know that she is actually a junior.

I was named after 3 people – my first name, which I loathe and anyone who speaks it aloud gets pimpslapped, was the name of my father’s first love. Some girl he knew when he was very young who was apparently a raving beauty. My middle name, that I do use, comes from my paternal grandfather and my maternal great-grand-aunt. Her name was an Austrian name, with a soft “J” initial letter, my name is the Anglicised version with the hard “J” as a nod to my grandfather (Joseph).

My sister’s youngest child shares the same birthday as our mother. My son was originally due to be induced on that day, but as much as I loathe my mother, I asked (and got) inducement 2 days earlier.

My father’s family is from TN – Cherokee country – where it was legal for blacks and whites to marry before it was legal for whites to marry Native Americans. On my paternal great-grandparents’ marriage license, it lists my great-grandmother’s race as “mulatto” it was the only way they could get married – to claim she was part black. When she married a white man, her family shaved her head – she kept the braids they were a mark of shame. The trunk was passed on to her daughter (my grandmother) and she kept the braids until she died – I am not sure which of my 12 aunts or uncles ended up with them, but I am afraid they have been lost by now, as there are only 2 of the siblings left alive.

Although the OP asked for odd things about our birth families, I will also relate that my husband and I have an odd dynamic. He is the nurturing, compassionate, caring one while I am the cold, logical problem-solver. If you just want an ear to vent, he’s the one you talk to, if you want advice on how to solve your problems, you come to me. All of our friends/family know this and act accordingly. Also, as seems fitting, he is Wiccan, while I have no religious beliefs whatsoever. We have brought the kids up with knowledge of all religions and have taught them tolerance of everyone else’ beliefs, but neither of them believe in god/gods.

15

I didn’t know my dad wasn’t my biological father until I was a teenager.

Fast forward 10 years or so. Through a request from his girlfriend (who was a coworker of mine) I agreed to help out a local contractor who’s bookkeeper had bailed on him. Wrapping up the conversation, she gave me his name, number and the address of his office.

It was my biological father.

16

I had an Aunt Mike. Not her real name, but everybody had to call her that.

My other aunt on that side of the family was separated from her husband for about the last 40 years of their marriage. Never divorced or took up with anyone else. Not a problem for the rest of the family, except you had to make sure they were never in the same place at the same time.

I had two aunts and also two uncles on different sides of the family who shared the same, somewhat unusual sets of first names. This led to occasional confusion.

Also, I’m my own grandpa.

17

My brother was born in 1990; our dad was born in 1960; dad’s mom was born in 1930.

My great-grandfather made the awnings for Disneyland. Most of the original metal frames are still there, though not, of course, the cloth.

18

My great grandmother’s father died from a stroke. He fell across the floor furnace in the dead of winter and laid there until she brought his dinner at eight o’clock, effectively roasting for hours.

My great grandmother’s sister raised three generations of us, but never had her own children. Her name was Eunice. When my brother was small he had a speech impediment and wasn’t able to pronounce her name. So he called her Aunt Hon-Hon.

My Uncle Howard was walkling with some friends downtown one day when he was in high school–in the 1930’s. They passed a group of younger girls, and Uncle Howard pointed at one and told his friends “That’s the girl I’m going to marry.” On May 27th of 1938 the girl became my Aunt Eunice.

I was married on May 27th 2004, and at the time I had no idea that was Eunice’s anniversary too.

19

I am the only son of an only son of an only son of an only son.

As you might expect, I’ve got masculinity issues out the yaa yaa.

20

My mother is from California, raised extremely Catholic and became something of a hippy as she got older.

My father is from New Jersey, raised as an orthodox Jew, and was a sheriff’s deputy when he met my mother at the local jail (to be fair, she was working there at the time, but it’s more fun to say my parents met in jail).

When they met, started dating and got pregnant with my brother, they were both married to other people (though separated, again to be fair).

Their divorces were completed 15 and 6 days prior to their own wedding.

They’ve been married over 27 years. Guess they did something right.