28. Roughing it

We were not a camping family growing up.  Mom never was, dad never was, and us kids never were.  We still aren't.  I've been camping one time, and that was enough.

But in my youth, when we were in Virginia, we would visit 1000 Trails. I think, as an adult, I wouldn't be excited by 1000 trails.  I think it may be a step up from KOA.  But as a kid, oh my goodness, I was always so excited.  We stayed in cabins, they had everything a normal house would, except maybe a tv.  There was a mini golf course, a pool, a small arcade, ping pong, and it was right on a lake, or river.  Like the beach, we went with the extended family, so I had a lot of fun with my cousins.

I asked mom how often we went, because I felt like it was quite a few times, but she said it was only a few.

That was as close to roughing it as we ever got, thankfully.

27. The Pepper Incident and other early memories

This is an actual memory.  I was between 2.5-3, but I remember this pretty well.

We were living in Colorado.  And out to eat at some restaurant with a salad bar.  It should be mentioned that (much like Bertie) I love pickles, and I have from a young age.  On one trip from the salad bar, my mom brought me a pickle.  I popped it in my mouth.  Except it wasn't a pickle, it was a hot pepper.  I cried, and asked why she gave me that.  She kept saying sorry, sorry.  I was then a bit distrustful of her bringing me pickles.

On the first day at the Colorado house, I fell down the wooden steps.

I remember the nightmare that had me sleeping on my parents floor for months.

And I remember we had a mud room in from the back yard.

25. A couple other times I was a bad kid

At some point when I was little, maybe around 4, I was at the department store with Nanny and mom.  I don't know how it happened, or what I was doing, but I managed to knock over a mannequin.  People came rushing over to make sure I was okay.  My mom was understandably angry.  Nanny thought it was hilarious.

When I was 5 or 6, I went to a bakery with mom while Jessica was having some dental work done. (I think.  That's how I remember the beginning, but it might not be right).  There was this beautiful wedding cake sitting on the low counter.  And, wanting to know if it was real, I stuck my finger in it.  The baker was pissed.  My mom wasn't mad, because you shouldn't put a real (non-display) wedding cake where it can get messed up.  Though, she did tell me to just ask if it was real in the future.

Around the same age, or maybe a little older, I complained of a headache.  It was a bad headache that just wouldn't go away.  Mom tried all the home and OTC remedies, but nothing helped.  So we went to the doctor, who suggested a head x-ray.  On the way home from the x-ray, I confessed that I never had a headache, I just wanted to see what would happen.  I'm pretty sure she was mad about that one.

24. A smattering of Jessica and Rachel shenanigans.

Here are some of the things we were up to as kids:

• At a carpet store, we climbed the pyramid of carpet rolls.  Dad said to come down, to which I said to Jessica "We don't have to listen to him."  It turned out we did.
• We used my mom's Toyota's windshield as a slide.
• When we were really little (3 and 4ish) we would pee in the backyard.  I don't know why.  I think we were pretending to be cats, and that's what cats do.
• Once when we were in the bath, we cover ourselves with soap suds, and told mom we were ghosts.
• We had an imaginary ghost that lived in our room.  (At least I assume he was imaginary).  We called him shadow.
• We would run through the racks of clothes at the store, but I think all kids do this.
• We dressed up Drummer (the cat) on more than one occasion (or at least attempted to).
• When Rebecca was a baby, we would pull on the corners of her mouth and say "Happy, sad, happy, sad" and giggle like mad.

18. A quick memory

This memory has been rolling around in my head for a while.  But I couldn't remember if it had actually happened, until I confirmed with Jessica today.

(I think this was either before Rebecca was born, or mom stayed home with her.)

Our house, growing up, was on a hill.  So we had a good view of the city.  One night, we saw a beam of light from a klieg light.  I don't know whose idea it was, but we decided to follow it, and see what was there.  Jessica, dad and I got in the car, and drove off, in search of the klieg light.  It was the grand opening of an electronics store (which no longer exists).

While the end result was anti-climactic, it is a memory that has stuck with me (and is not fictional).

15. Embarrassing moments

I am one of those people who replay things in their heads; what I could/should have said/done, and why did you say/do that?!  So here are a few embarrassing moments that have stayed with me.

If first grade I called the teacher mommy.  (Her name was Mrs Moore, so at least it started the same).

When I was 13, I had a Bat Mitzvah.  Mine was in the afternoon, and my friend had his in the morning.  He asked me to read something at his, somewhat last minute.  I agreed, not thinking much about it.  Then I was up on the stage, in front of everyone, I screwed it all up.  I jumbled the words, mixed up or skipped entire sentences.  I barely held it together.  Then when I sat back down, I just started crying, and I cried through the rest of the service.  I some how pulled it together by the afternoon, and did fine at mine.

Sometime in my youth, I asked my aunt (who is adopted) if she ever met her real mom.  Of course, Nanny is her real mom, what I should have said was biological mom.

At age 5 or 6 I needed a throat culture.  Mom had taken me to the doctor, I assume I probably had strep.  But I absolutely refused to let them take the culture.  Mom was furious.  She made dad take me back later that day, and then I let them do it.  (My dad never disciplined us, mom did that.  But for some reason, we were all scare of dad).

Around age  22, I needed to go to the dentist.  I had been freaking out about it all day.  (I am a huge baby about going to the dentist). I think it was the first time I saw Dr Shimamoto.  And, practically before he ever looked in my mouth, I started crying.  An adult, crying in a dentist's chair, for no real reason, other than being scared.

When Aaron and I were in the early days of dating, I was over at his house.  We were in the living room chatting with his dad, and I sneakily (or so I thought) farted.  But it was really stinky.  When we left the room, Aaron said "sorry about my dad farting." I told him, nope that was me.

Along the same lines, probably around the time Bertie was 2, we were at Target.  I burped and said excuse me.  Bertie loudly announced "Mommy toot!"

I'm sure there are so many more experiences I could add, but I'm feeling thoroughly mortified having written these.

12. Grandma Bertha

Bertha was my paternal grandma.  She died in 2000.  (Typing that makes me realize that 2000 was actually a long time ago).  She was always called Grandma Bertha even though we had no one else called "grandma."  I found this odd when I got old enough to think about it.

Her husband, my grandpa died when I was three, so I don't remember him.

One week of our month-long Virginia trip was carved out for visiting grandma Bertha.  We would drive the 9-10 hours up the East coast in our rented car, that always smooshed us three kids into the not-large-enough back seat.  There would inevitably be crying, yelling and complaining.

We would stay at grandma's house, which was the house my dad grew up in: the top floor of a four unit apartment building.  It was a small house, with nothing updated.  Two bedrooms, one bathroom (that only had a tub, no shower). There was an attic upstairs, which my dad made his bedroom at some point in his youth.  There was also a half bath up there.  It had a hot tap, and a cold tap, which means you either burn or freeze your hands.  There was one tv, and it was one of those old ones that are furniture, and when you shut it off the picture faded to a tiny dot, which would disappear after a bit. (I'm sure that effect has a name, but I don't know it).  The couch was covered in plastic, there was no A/C which meant the house was usually stiflingly hot.
When we were small (or maybe every time we were there, I can't remember), Jessica, Rebecca and I would all sleep on the sofa bed hidden in the plastic-covered couch.  I think my mom slept in the second bedroom (it had a twin bed with a mattress that was probably 40 years old), and my dad slept in the attic, though, I don't know how, the attic was so hot.
In the living room there was a curio cabinet with all sorts of little knick-knacks.  Jessica and I always would get them out and look at them.  (Even now, I can almost remember the smell of the inside of the cabinet).  There was also a rotary phone, which I thought was pretty cool. The second bedroom was aunt Rosalie's childhood room.  A lot of her teenage things were still there.  Love beads, and other jewelry, and this musky cologne that I always loved smelling.
And despite being hot, the attic was the best place in the house, at least in my young mind.  It was kind of a doorway to the past.  My dad's childhood preserved in one space.  There was a nook with his bed, in it old posters about space.  The other nook had mirrors on the two opposite sides (and windows on the other) so you could look at your reflection into infinity.  All of my dad's old stuff was up there: erector set, and really old mister potato head, various chemistry experiment-y things (including a small dish of mercury), his information from returning home from Peace Corp (complete with awesome picture), and a big bag of wheat pennies, among other things.

I go into so much detail about the house, because that is the extent of most of my memories of her.  When we would come to visit she didn't really acknowledge us.  She wasn't at all huggy kissy, or affectionate in anyway.  She was mostly housebound (then later completely housebound).  Into the later years of our visits I think she had dementia.

There were always things I looked forward when we went there.  There was a mini-mart at the end of the block, so we'd walk there for snacks.  We would visit the museum ever year, it was natural history, and art. We would go to the lake, which one of two places I've ever seen a seesaw in real life (the other was also there in Pittsfield somewhere, but I can't remember where.  Maybe a park).  We'd watch prime time tv as a family (which we rarely did at home (because we had other tvs)).

I remember a lot of the fun things, but mostly it was not fun.  One year the house had a lot of fleas from grandma feeding the neighbour cats.  One year Rebecca (or maybe all of us) had lice.  It was always hot, and there wasn't a lot to do.

I feel bad that I didn't try to get to know my grandma better.  Ask her questions about the past and her life.  But I think I was 10 (maybe a little older) when we stopped going to visit.  So it wasn't anything that I really thought about then.

I guess #12 was really more about Massachusetts than my grandma, but in my head the two are intertwined.

Baby Rebecca, aunt Rosalie, Grandma Bertha.

3. Random Memory

Once when I was in elementary school my dad came to pick me up from soccer practice.  We crossed the playground as we walked to the car.  My dad said try to do a pull-up.  I hopped up and grabbed the bar, but that was as high off the ground as I went.  My dad walked up and said I'll help you.  As he said that I let go, and landed on his foot, in my cleats.  (It should also be noted I was a fat kid).
He didn't say anything, and I thought he was furious.  As an adult, I realized he was speechless as to not swear.
I asked him about that last year, and he had no memory of it, whatsoever. It's funny the things that stick with you, but don't with someone else.

The things I want to remember

Yesterday: Eating by myself at Applebee's when Bertie was five months old. Bertie decided he didn't want to sit in his car seat anymore.  So he sat in my lap the whole time while I ate, trying to grab anything within reach.  I gave him my sunglasses, two napkins, two sugar packets, but he still wanted my plate, my fork, my diet coke.  At the end of the meal, I gave him my empty glass, which was cold, and covered in condensation.  He sucked and licked and bit that.

Ongoing: When he's nursing, stops, and looks up at me with a big smile, and dribbles milk everywhere.

Ongoing: When I change his diaper, and rub rash cream on him.  He decides to help out and rub cream too (usually on his belly, thigh or face).

Today: Woke up from napping with Bertram.  I looked over at him, he was already awake, and gave me the biggest smile.

Currently: The long curly hair above either ear.  (Mad scientist/rabbi).