Posts Tagged ‘Mommy’s Piggy Tales’
Ugh.
Mrs. Baker
Bleh.
The piano. Ugh. Bleh. And double yuck.
I resented that piano with it’s massive size. I resented its placement in the room. I resented being tucked away behind it where no one could see me. Or more importantly where no one, especially Mrs. Baker, could hear me.
I’m sure first grade consisted of more than sitting behind the piano, but that’s all I really remember. Anytime I talked at all in class, I got put behind the piano so I couldn’t distract the other students. As soon as I was released from that isolation someone would say something to me and I would respond, “Shh, don’t get me in trouble.” And next thing I knew, I was back behind the piano. Mrs. Baker only had ears for my voice. I admit, I talked a lot. But I was bored a lot. And I’m an only child with a mother who, at that time, was earning her bachelor’s degree in business. We didn’t really have a lot of time to talk and when we did, they weren’t usually little kid conversations. I was hungry for socializing.
As I was remembering first grade with my mom this week, I told her I could already see my future as a parent in parent-teacher conferences. I’m sure teachers will tell me that Sammi is a smart girl who gets her work done quickly, but she talks too much and distracts the other children from doing their work. My mom chuckled since this is exactly what every single one of my report cards from elementary school through middle school says. But her response to my teachers was that I was an only child who thrived on social interactions. She could see how this gift would help me as I went to college and needed to form study groups and succeed in my classes. And for that reason, she didn’t see it as a character flaw to be squashed out of me, but rather a talent to be put to good use. Aren’t moms the best!
As I’ve spent a little more time thinking about first grade, I do remember participating in the first grade “play” where I was a ladybug with my best friend Cara. My hair was pulled back tight in a bun and I wore a black leotard with huge red pom poms sewn on the back. It’s one of my favorite pictures from first grade. Too bad it’s in Tennessee and I’m in Utah. I’ll have to add it later.
Mrs. Baker always made mugs for her students. They were designed to look like denim jeans and each one had a student’s name written on the label of the jeans. I spent the last few months of the school year worried that she wouldn’t make me one because she didn’t like me. But, she was a better teacher than that! I did get my mug with my name on it and I cherished it for many years even though I didn’t really like first grade at all. But I managed to learned everything required to move on to second grade, which was a happy, happy day for me!
This post is linked up with Mommy’s Piggy Tales. Check out other great stories about first grade experiences.
Welcome to another edition of Mommy’s Piggy Tales! The girls and I traveled all day yesterday. During our very long layover, I had Sammi interview me about my life when I was her age, which is three. We did a cute little video and it was really fun. But when I went to get it ready to share, it has NO sound. Bummer. So I’ll share some of what she asked me and add a few other memories.
Sammi wanted to know all about how I looked: my hair, my hands, my feet, and how big I was. My hair was blond and to my shoulders. I had short bangs way above my eyebrows and in most pictures they are curled under. This was important to Sammi because she wants to grow her bangs out and grow her hair long, long, long! She’s also recently started cooperating for me to curl her hair for church on Sunday. In general, I was a little bit smaller than Sammi (because she has such a tall daddy) but we look an awful lot alike.
I remember getting a pair of tie-up shoes when I was almost four or so. I was so excited and wanted to be able to tie them myself. I remember I spent all day practicing over and over again. As far as I remember, I mastered tying my own shoes on that one day. But my mom may have a different story to tell about that!
We lived in a little red brick house when I was three, before my parents divorced. I remember my dad used to fly me around the living room and call me buzzer bee. I remember that my room was off that main living room. My parents room was next door also off the living room. They had a waterbed and I remember sitting on it and watching Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood on a tiny black and white TV on my mom’s dresser.
The kitchen was also off the living room. My mom would make me sandwiches for lunch. She always took a bite out before she gave it to me. One day, I guess I was getting bigger or maybe she was distracted, but she didn’t take a bite. When she handed me the sandwich I gave it right back and said, “Fix it!” She looked and it and couldn’t figure out what was wrong. She gave it back. But I refused it again and said, “Fix it!” That happened a few times. Finally she took a bite out of it and gave it back. I smiled, said thanks, and ate my sandwich.
If you’d like to find more stories or are looking for inspiration to write your own story, check out Mommy’s Piggy Tales.
My parents found themselves unexpectedly preparing for a baby’s arrival. They had not been planning on having a baby. At least not just yet. But they also found themselves filled with joy and a desire for this baby to join their family. When my mom went to the doctor the first time and they discussed the due date, he came up with some day at the end of April. My mom said something like, “Oh that’s close to my birthday which is April 28th.” At which point the doctor said something like, “Well, then, April 28th it is.” And wrote it down as the official due date.
Time passed and the baby grew bigger and bigger. My mom drove a zippy little sports car at the time. One day she drove into the grocery store parking lot and caught the eyes of most of the guys getting into or out of their cars. As she parked they all seemed to wait breathlessly to see the hot chick who would emerge from such a fantastic car. She lumbered and struggled and finally emerged, her and all eight and a half months of me. Suddenly all the guys turned away quickly and awkwardly. Mom went home that day and told my dad they were selling the car.
At a doctor’s visit near the end of the pregnancy it was discovered that I was breech. Frank breech, to be more specific. The doctor said they would perform a c-section since delivering a baby’s bum first was not a formula for success. He offered her two dates and she snatched the sooner one. Hence my May 3rd birthday. The surgery went fine; I was healthy; and my mom eventually recovered. She said it took a long time for her to feel like herself again. After two regular pregnancies and births, I can only imagine how difficult it would be to recover from a c-section. I have always loved the scar on her tummy from where they pulled me out. But I appreciate even more now how moms sacrifice their bodies for their babies.
At some point during the pregnancy my parents were eating dinner at JB Big Boy’s hamburger restaurant. They were situated where they could see this adorable little girl that was being so cute. Her mom called her Amber and they thought it was a cute name and a cute little girl. They decided if I was a girl they would name me Amber.
So I was born on May 3rd and my name is Amber. What’s your story?
This story is linked up with Mommy’s Piggy TALES where you can tell your own life story in 15 posts over 15 weeks. Won’t you join us?
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