Please note: the next installment of the Homeschooling Series is being postponed until Tuesday or Wednesday. We’ve had a wonderful but busy weekend and I just didn’t get it all done. But I’ve been thinking about this topic for a few days and wanted to share a little bit about myself with you. Share back in the comments box, below, will you?
When we were kids, my parents had this book around the house:
I should pause right now to acknowledge my mom. Mom, listen. I know you are dying of embarrassment that I’m sharing this. Just like you died of embarrassment when I showed it to the Miller kids from across the street nearly 30 years ago. But it’s okay. Really. You were doing the best you could and I promise it didn’t scar me for life. (Unfortunately, I can’t speak for the Millers.)
Back to the book. Did you have this as a child? It’s a book about how babies are made. Some features include: naked and chubby cartoon mom and dad, detailed cartoon images of baby-making, and some silly pictures that… well, you can Google if you really want to laugh.
The point of this book was to give parents an easy way to talk to their children about where babies come from. If memory serves, it is actually a sweet book, shows them being married and in love, and I think, does its 1970′s best to be anatomically correct while not too using too much jargon.
I thought about this book again today because I was reflecting upon where I come from. I don’t mean the physical act (Sheesh, Mom, I really had no idea this was going to cause you so much grief!) but rather the people that formed and shaped me as a young person and that continue to shape me now.
All that is a looooooong, roundabout way of saying I’m going to break from my usual habit of talking about my kids, to talking about my family of origin.
My mom and dad met in 1973 at the University of San Diego in an – wait for it - embryology class. 2 weeks after meeting my mom, my dad proposed to her. My mom, like any sane woman, refused. A few months later she changed her mind, praise be to God.
I am the second oldest of 11 children. I was the only girl until I was nearly 16 years old. My parents felt so sorry for me that they (sort of) let me name my 6th brother. I was a tomboy who really liked girly things but would rather die than admit that. I remember that my older brother told me he wouldn’t fight physically with me anymore when he was about 12 and I was 10. He didn’t think it was right to beat up a girl. Ever the lady, I attacked him and beat him up. (That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)
When my first sister (child #8) was born, I ran around my high school telling everyone I knew. I had visions of me driving a convertible with her in the passenger seat… realistic, I know. My 2 youngest sisters were born while I was at college. I got a kick out of telling people when my parents were expecting babies. Their reactions, ever the ignorant teenagers to whom pregnancy is a death sentence, could barely fathom it.
Kevin met my family when my youngest sister was 4 days old. In a way it makes me jealous of her. She’s known Kevin her whole life.
My siblings’ careers consist of: financial analyst (I have no idea what he really does, but he worked for an accounting firm for a long time, so we’re gonna go with that), priest, retired army paratrooper who is now a high school teacher and football coach, food service engineer on his way up the ladder of the most delicious fast food chain around (hint: it’s mostly only found in California), store manager of a major technology retail store, chiropractor, seminarian, 2 college students and a high school student.
I now have 4 amazing sisters-in-law, and 8-going-on-10 nieces and nephews. (That makes 12-going-on-14 grandchildren for my parents, in under 8 years!) My family is spread all over the globe: Korea (boo hoo), Ohio, Iowa, Tennessee, and all up and down California.
The last time we were all together was summer of 2011. We’re going to try and remedy that next summer. Right, guys? RIGHT?
So now you may have a better picture of where I come from. Better than that silly book, anyway. Now tell me: where do YOU come from?