The year was 1965 and her name was Miss Garrett. She was young and sported a very blond 60s haircut, you know the one--poofy with the big flipped up curls that lay above her shoulders--and mean as hell very strict. There was never any doubt that Mrs Garrett was the head bitch in charge the one and only boss in her second grade classroom.
Back in those days, when people still thought that the earth was flat when elementary school was called grammar school, corporal punishment was a teacher's best friend THE acceptable form of classroom management and, most likely, Miss Garrett's sole reason for becoming a teacher. She absolutely adored made swift use of this method for even the slightest infraction of the breathing classroom rules. The particular method that gave Miss Garrett such pleasure was a ruler slap to the palm of any 7-year-old hand belonging to any second grader foolish enough to commit a classroom felony (including taking too many breaths in a minute, scratching an itch, or turning one's head in the direction of the blackboard too slow or too fast). Miss Garrett would marched proudly towards the cowering 7-year-old and demand that he/she hold out their hand which she promptly grabbed by the 4 fingers--to assure connectivity with said hand--and slap the wooden ruler against the uplifted palm--from 1 to 5 times depending on the infraction.
The thorn in my side during second grade was George--the little George not the big one. LG was a short little dude with straight blond hair and the devil on his right shoulder (no angel on the left side. He gave up and moved on- most likely during LG's kindergarten year). Our class was having a share day which meant we could bring one item from home that was special to us. It was quite an exciting day as, back then, students were not allowed to bring any items from home that were not pertinent to the learning experience. I, on that fateful day, brought in my favorite book at that time- the story of BAMBI. Each student had a turn to stand up, show their item, make a brief statement about the item, and then pass it around the room for the other students' viewing pleasure. Our desks were side by side in a huge, square around the room- when you handed the item to the right it would return to you on your left. When my turn finally rolled around, I made my statement, held up the book and passed it to my right--on purpose because LG sat on my left and I was not about to let him be the first one to touch my cherished book- and sat right down like the good little soldierprisoner student I was. Once the book reached LG's mitts, he immediately raised his desk top and shoved my book inside all the while wearing a smug little grin on his face. (I know I was only 7 but I thought something like, WHATTHEHELL?).
"Give it to me." (whispering)
Silence.
"Give me my book!" (whispering louder)
Silence.
"Give. Me. My. Book. NOW!" (maybe a bit louder than a whisper)
LG took my precious possession out of his desk and handed it to me BUT HE DID NOT LET IT GO. He had put a death grip on my book and I was one pissed off second grader. I yanked that book out of his death grip and whacked him right-up-side-his-little-second-grade-head! That's when I noticed Miss Garrett standing in front of my desk. Wooden ruler in hand. CRAP. This was NOT going to end well. At. All.
Miss Garrett's classroom policy was shoot first and NEVER ask what happened. She was not the least bit interested in whowhatwhenwherehoworwhy. NoSir-eeBob. She merely took my hand and whacked my right palm with her torture weapon wooden ruler and then carried out the same punishment on LG which was totally unfair because all I did was get my book back and, IF I had to be punished, LG should have gotten way more than me because it was all his doing.
Now, what lesson did I take with me throughout my educational years from this experience? First, take care of LG outside the classroom. Second, do not blindly trust authority figures to render just judgments.
At least I had plucked the thorn from my side. LG was afraid of me from that day forward! Which means he wasn't as dumb as I thought he was.
Once upon a time, I had an agenda every single day. Without fail. A lovely, strict schedule of what to do when. It served me quite well and I enjoyed it. I worked within its structured time slots with peace of mind and completed need-to-dos BECAUSE doing this left me with plenty of time for all those want-to-dos! Every day of this self-imposed, agenda-run life served me quite well all the way through grad school. And it continued serving me well until the day the first child arrived-a fact to which many new moms (and dads) can bear witness. Indeed, January, 1985, was the beginning of the end of mine AND Hub’s personal agendas as well as our ‘couples’ agenda. We found ourselves thrown under the bus under new management. You would think that, coupled with this realization, would come easy readjustment. You would be wrong. We were just arrogant stupid naïve enough to think we could outwit our new little blessing. We weren’t going to succumb blindly to this new set of circumstances. It was a hard lesson for us to learn. However, 3 more daughters and years later- when they were all involved in their various activities outside the house, we threw up our hands and surrendered completely to GOING WITH THE FLOW (yes, we fought it that long).
First of all, from the moment we had the first child, it did become all about her. It was time to put ourselves on hold for about 18 years (which we realized would be stretched into Godknowshowmanyyears with the arrival of each additional blessing) and focus on our precious little one. And it really was about her…and then her sister…and then her other sister…and then one more sister. We became so involved in their agendas we almost forgot that we ever HAD agendas of our own. Nothing the darling four were ever involved in started on time. NEVER. Nothing ever ended on time either—especially BAND (thank you McGrew). AND switching days was so commonplace that sticking with an original plan could have been easily seen as the exception rather than the rule. But, things got done. Games were played. Performances were presented. Practices were held. Lessons were taught. And we all learned to GO WITH THE FLOW.
I’m not talking about the kind of go with the flow that results in a negative—becoming lackadaisical, lazy, or disrespectful. I mean the lessons learned that proved to be helpful on several fronts. For example, we learned that spending time with others and making new friendships was worth the time. We learned patience with one another and with others. We learned that our way was our way and their way was their way and that that was ok. We learned to slow down and smell those proverbial roses. We learned to dance in the rain. Together. As a family.
And, now that the nest is empty, going with the flow is still active when there is something going on with the girls. But it’s quickly losing its appeal. We no longer have to take anyone anywhere or be at very many events and Hubs and I are beginning to develop our own agendas again. Interesting thing though— whether the focus is on home improvement, places to go, or sitting around watching television-- our individual agendas now are geared more towards a couple agenda. At least up until the point where Hubs does something annoying (you know like talk during a movie and then ask, “What did he say?” Really?) at which point my personal agenda comes alive. Seriously, I don’t recall him being that annoying before the nest emptied…or was I just too busy to notice? Nevertheless, it is rather enjoyable just knowing that we CAN have personal AND couple agendas once again.
Looking for a way to make Monday more enjoyable? Hop on over to Java's Meet Me On Monday at Never Growing Old and join in some much needed Monday fun! Following the questions is the big reveal
Questions:
1. Did you watch the Superbowl? Is this a rhetorical question? LOL But OF COURSE! No matter that our teams weren't in it. It's FOOTBALL! Only problem is- what will I do until pre-season?! Seriously, except for March Madness (yes, I enjoy college basketball) I'm completely bored until August.
2. What is the last book that you read? Take Your Eye Off The Ball by Pat Kirwan. I'm in the middle of Shmirshky right now.
3. What is your favorite kind of cake? This is a hard one to narrow down, I've never been known to turn down cake. I have three: chocolate, carrot and German chocolate (the one my SIL makes).
4. Do you snore? Hubs says I do on a rare occasion. But HE starts as soon as his eyes close regardless of where he is when they do!
5. Do you play an instrument? I did--I played clarinet in band. I took piano lessons but hated them so I quit. I am one of those people who, if I can't perform perfectly from the beginning, I stop. It's not that I'm afraid of hard work--it's more of a patience issue. The issue being- I DON'T HAVE ANY PATIENCE.
Some of you might recall the game where I had to list 5 things about me but ONLY ONE was true--It's time for the reveal:
1. I have such a huge problem with authority figures that I once smarted off to the po-po and had to spend a couple of hours in the clink. LIE: I do have an issue with some authority figures and I might be known to smart off a bit here and there, but have never (thankfully) spend any time in the clink!
2. After succumbing to peer pressure, I once cheated on a test in high school and had to take an F in the class. LIE again: I did have people ask me to help them out but I've just never been able to cheat.
3. With our four daughters, each of them was earlier than their due dates and the longest labor was with the first daughter at only 4 1/2 hours long. TRUE! They all came early and Breezy (DD1) was the longest labor at 4 1/2 hours---talk about blessings!
4. I have a friend who, after finding out that her husband cheated on her, actually super glued his penis to his abdomen. LIE: She never did but another friend of hers did and she always said she would if her hubby cheated on her!
5. During our first ten years together, Hubs and I vacationed once a year by backpacking over a twelve mile stretch of the Appalachian trail. LIE: We've never really vacationed. I grew up going on vacations but Hub's family never did. Plus, on the 2 times we did go somewhere--it was way more work than staying home! Not to mention--Me? Hike? Bwahahahahahahaha! Now THAT'S funny!
I passed this on to the following folks- if you haven't pick it up yet, here it is again--
Being a transplant to the low-country of SC for 31 years is still not long enough to be called a ‘benyeh.’ If I stay until I’m dead I’ll probably go a ‘comeyeh’ since I am, originally, ‘from off’ (which is the upstate but, rules you know). By day I take care of my sweet little granddaughter, Baby M and do all those things I did when I was a SAHM raising four daughters which has translated to, ‘by day, I am exhausted.’ By night I blog, blog, blog, and blog some more or I sleep, depending on my level of exhaustion (do they still make Geritol?). I have a very unhealthy addiction to sweets (nearly any kind will do) and all comfort foods not covered under the ‘sweets’ category. I’m known for speaking my mind so, if you don’t want to know, don’t ask me. I love to find the humor in my empty nest life. I live life hard and smack into that brick wall almost daily because I’ve always had to learn the hard way. Why change now? I’m so glad you’ve come to laugh with me as I do this middle age, empty nest thing like a BOSS!
