Back in 1983...

Corda and I celebrated birthdays this week.  My kids are 10, 7, 5, and 14 months.  I wonder how much of their daily lives they will remember once they get to my ripe old age of 36.  I am so old that it was literally only a couple of days ago that I realized I was turning 36 and not 35.  I lost (gained?) a whole year somewhere.  I hope that they will forget the times I yelled at them and forgot to do things I promised.  Besides forgetting my age, I have forgotten most of the little details from my childhood.  Here are a few of the memories that have stayed with me.

I remember attending morning preschool at Little Elves in Manassas, Virginia.  There was one time when I had to come in face paint, probably Halloween.  My teacher commented on how cute or scary I was, and I promptly got shy and tried to rub it all off.

I remember getting chicken pox in kindergarten and spreading it to other kids in my class.  (Sorry Sudley Elementary!)  I also remember there were three Jennifer B’s in that class. 

This is the year Uptown Girl by Billy Joel came out.  I thought this was the best song ever.  I sang it all the time like little girls today sing Katy Perry songs.  I also had a thing for Culture Club - Karma Chameleon.  I was allowed to listen to it but not see the album cover.  My older sister Elizabeth was in high school, and I can picture her cassette tape collection on the wall of her room: the Police, Duran Duran, Billy Idol, the Eurythmics, Tears for Fears, Rick Springfield.

When I was in first grade, my brother had to have surgery.  My mom took me to the neighbor’s house at the crack of dawn to get a ride to school later while the rest of the family was at the hospital.  Despite the fact that her sole job was to get me to school on time, the neighbor got me to school very late.  Class was already in session and I needed a note from the office.  I didn’t like having that tardy on my permanent record. 

I remember an icy Christmas Eve around that time when we went to church and came out to find the car frozen over.  Someone had to use a lighter to melt the ice enough so that we could unlock the doors.  This struck me as very resourceful and a better use of a lighter than smoking!

At the beginning of second grade, I took some placement testing to see if I could move up to third grade.  The test administrator asked me if I liked my pencils sharp or dull.  I said that it didn’t matter and I never really thought about it.  She said that I needed to decide what kind of pencil I wanted to use because if I was distracted by anything I might not do well on the test.  I remember thinking that if third grade involved weird questions and mind games like this, maybe I didn’t want to go!  (I do not recall what kind of pencil I ultimately used, but it must have been okay, because soon enough I was packing up for Mrs. Quell's class.)

Our report cards had a box that a teacher could check to request a parent conference.  My second grade teacher checked that conference box to start this process of moving me to third grade after the first six weeks.  At the end of the second/third grade year, I took that report card and scribbled out the conference requested box because I didn't want anyone (college admission officers? my future children? Congress?) to think I needed a conference for disciplinary reasons.  Later on, I decided that wasn't enough, so in my best Ms. Bell handwriting I added a note that said "We think Dianne should be promoted to third grade."  See, I've been like this forever!!

Speechless

Statements and questions to which I had no logical or smarty-pants responses last week…and only some of these were from my kids.

 I have to go outside because I need a stapler. (What other office supplies are we storing in the yard?)

We are the A-Team. (I really liked MacGyver a lot more.)

Did I mention that I am very famous? (If you have to mention it…)

I don’t know what I meant when I wrote this sentence, so can you tell me what I meant? (Biting tongue because you outrank me…)

How long does it take to destroy a light bulb? (I know you have to come up with a list of activities that take one second, one minute, and one hour…maybe you’ll get creative points for this one.)

I can’t eat dinner right now because I didn’t die yet. (I’ll make zombie food next time.)

If you had read the book you would have been able to tell me how to describe the character. (True, but you would only know if I was doing your homework correctly if you also read the book.)

We need a team of lateral thinkers. (Why did my eyes just move sideways like I was preparing to cross the street?)

If we start at 9 and end at 9:50 that will be 45 minutes. (Fuzzy math)

 I need to Google how to sleep. (Start by walking away from the computer.)

I might need to make you a new debit card because the expiration date stopped working. (I might need to find a bank that doesn’t mess up my life on a whim.)

This is a small, intentionally Christian college.  (Oh, I was looking for an accidentally Christian college.)

In time for Valentine's Day

As Christopher and I approach our 15^th wedding anniversary this summer (yes, child brides were ok in Virginia back then), it is interesting to look back and think about the ways I have changed.  I don’t mean the obvious like oh, we’re married, so we should figure out the biggies like money, kids, and religion.  I don’t mean the changes that are more attributable to being parents (free time consists of playing Legos) or age (we go to bed by 10).  And I don’t mean the sappy stuff like I love you more every single day, because I don’t want to gross out anybody.  I mean the more subtle or unusual traits that I know I’ve picked up straight from my bubbly hubbly or do because of him such as….

1.  I will occasionally eat a sloppy joe sandwich now.

2.   I listen to sports radio…and I like it.

3.   I never wear heels.

4.  Pizza is supposed to have pepperoni and black olives.

5.  If you can’t get front row seats, it’s not worth going.

6.  I have a splint in my car in case I need to splint somebody I guess.

7.  I know who Legendary Santa is.

8.  I can sort of speak intelligently about baseball (although I still don’t keep a scorebook to his liking).

9.  You’ve heard of mama bear, right?  Wife bear is scarier.  If you mess with my man, you better watch your back.

10.   I know as many emergency medicine acronyms as EY acronyms.

11.   I have an alter ego who can be pretty aggressive at booking speaking engagements and public appearances for our Never Forget Foundation.  This requires not just talking to strangers (see previous grocery shopping post) but COLD CALLING them.  Egad.

12.  I will go to multiple grocery stores to find Scotchy Scotch Scotch.

13.  Not sure this fits, but when I was a teenager I went to see a psychic (Michelle Nolton are you reading this?) who told me that I would marry someone a little shorter than me (check), with dark hair (check), have two kids (we’ll say some multiple thereof), and my work would involve being published (I have proofed all of Christopher’s articles).

14.  I was a political science major, but I didn’t appreciate local campaign tactics, primary voting, or political party infighting until a certain Mark Earley staffer walked in.

15.  I drink Coke not Pepsi.

Idiot proof

I work with someone who has a favorite saying:  “Make it idiot proof.”  She does not mean this in a bad way.  Our colleagues are a bunch of tax technical gurus who have more work to do than hours in the day.  So, if we need them to do something, we need to make our instructions absolutely infallible.  If we don’t, it’s not so much that the recipient was an idiot, but rather that we were not successful in making our request clear.  Too much detail and they zone out; too little detail and it opens the door for mistakes.

I experienced this at home recently on trash day.  I asked the boys to bring down the box that the laundry sorter came in so that we could put it out with the trash.   A few minutes later I hear much commotion on the stairs with the little one saying “This doesn’t seem right” and the big one saying “You’re just a weak idiot” and the little one replying “I am weak but I am not an idiot.”  I could not fathom how bringing down an empty cardboard box could require two people and create an argument.  Well, I did ask both boys to do this, and I did yell my instructions up the stairs while they were playing Minecraft.  So, what they heard was “Bring down the laundry sorter.”  Yeah, this is a large metal contraption on wheels with three laundry bags suspended by metal hooks and requires two people, sweat, and probably a can of paint to touch up the walls if you’re going to drag it up and down the stairs.  My instructions had not been kid proof (I won’t call them idiots, even if one brother does use that term of endearment toward the other quite a bit).  Halfway down the stairs I stopped them, gave them credit for trying to do what I asked, and then asked them to lift it back upstairs and come back with the empty box.  Several “I told you so” and “idiot” comments ensued.

The next house will have an intercom and an elevator.