26 August 2009

Broken Bones and Bunk-beds

My older sister and I shared a room when we were younger. For a while our beds were side by side but they could also be stacked as bunk-beds. Both my sister and I have very vivid dreams and they occasionally wake us up in cold sweats. I always wondered why my older sister could seem to fall back asleep more easily than I could. She admitted to me once that she always told herself that if there was a monster under the bed it would eat me first, since I slept on the bottom bunk, and would leave her alone. I am kind of glad I didn’t know that when we were younger.

My younger brother had a run of rotten luck for several summers. He always managed to break a bone within the first couple of weeks of summer break. He broke his arm by falling off of his scooter, tipping his bike over, and tripping playing soccer by himself. He even managed to break his ankle joint by stepping backwards wrong. The odd thing is that the only time he went to the hospital the day he broke his bone was when he broke his ankle joint. We knew something was terribly wrong when he curled up into a ball and refused to even think about putting his weight on his foot. All the other times he broke a bone it would take several days for us to realize that it was broken. He would mow the lawn, play basketball, and other such physical activities.

When I was in college there were two years where I slept on the top of a bunk-bed. I never minded sleeping on the top, I was always several inches taller than my roommates and it was easier for me to get onto the top bunk. The only problem was that the ladder was designed poorly and it was nearly impossible to use if you wanted to actually get into bed. I would use a chair and jump from the chair into bed.

There was one evening where my roommate had already gone to bed and I didn’t want to disturb her so I tried to quietly get into bed. I didn’t have enough umph to actually get into bed so I came back down and tried to land on the chair. I landed funny and tipped the chair over. My feet got tangled up in the rungs and I nearly fell over. I decided that was a sign to stay up later and went to the living room to talk with my roommate that was still up. In the morning I noticed that my foot was bruised but it didn’t really hurt so I ignored it.

Spring Break started the next week and I ended up playing volleyball for several hours and I walked to my work more often. My roommate was concerned since my foot was now yellow and purple. I agreed to go to the doctors, but was so stubborn I walked the mile to the doctors and then the two miles to the hospital to get it x-rayed. I finally had to admit that my foot was actually broken. I was given a walking cast but I always took it off at eleven at night because I figured if I had walked on it for a week then it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t have the cast on the whole day.

19 August 2009


My family moved when I was in elementary. I don’t have too many memories from before the move but I remember second grade math. (I know that is something most people try to forget.) The elementary I attended was trying a new approach to math. We were self paced and there were parents that would come in and help us when we needed. That way the children who caught on quickly didn’t get bored and those who needed a little more time could have it. I loved it

When I started at the new school in third grade I was disappointed to learn that I could no longer go at my own pace in math. I was often bored and occasionally was told not to go ahead of the rest of the class. My mother decided that if I was bored that something needed to be done. She learned about a Satellite program for “gifted” children. Ha! I didn’t consider myself gifted but I figured that I didn’t want to be bored. I had to take a lot of tests before I could even take the entrance exam.

The first portion of the entrance exam was a personality test. I knew one other person taking the test and she was really nice. We sat next to each other and when we took the test I figured that her personality was better than mine. So for only that portion of the test I copied her answers. For the rest of the test I was content to answer the questions myself. I don’t think I had a high self esteem as a child either that or I thought really highly of my friend.

Overall the program was a lot of fun and I am glad I did it. I had a lot of opportunities that I wouldn’t have had before. I still don’t consider myself gifted. I just do well in a typical school setting and I have always enjoyed learning.

12 August 2009

Hitting Brothers

As a family we all got along really well. There were only a few times when we would really have problems. My older brother and I were going at it one day. My dad was frustrated, so he pulled both of us into the house and sat us down on stools across from each other. He turned to my brother and asked if my brother was mad at me. My brother said he was. My dad replied. “Okay, hit her.” My brother, the eternal gentleman, said no. My dad shrugged and turned to me. “Hit him.” I happily obliged which startled my brother. My brother figured since he had been nice to me that I wouldn’t hit him. Apparently he was wrong.

When we grew up, we gave ourselves excuses to hit each other. We would play Robin Hood in our back yard using sticks as swords and staffs to mock battle. By that time, however, we really were sorry when we would bloody each other’s knuckles or knees.

05 August 2009


As I was getting ready this morning, an experience from my childhood came to mind. (This biggest complaint about my childhood was I had to put up with myself. There are days I wonder why my siblings didn't tease me more since I always had a good reaction.)

When I was in junior high, or younger (I am not sure about my age), my older sister was trying to round up the rest of the kids and herd us all to the van to go somewhere. Back then she often called everyone 'bucko.' So as she called for us 'buckos' to come to the van, I decided to be a pain. I proudly retorted. 'I'm not a buck-o, I'm a buck-et.' I really didn't think before I spoke. (There are days I still don’t think before speaking as my husband can tell you.) It took a while for that self-proclaimed nickname to be forgotten.