I was 12 years old and we had just moved into a new house on a small lake. I spent my summer swimming and paddle boating around. My grandfather was still alive and he lived one street over. I loved spending time with him, playing checkers, riding bikes and getting Taco Bell. I hated my sixth grade teacher, Mrs. R. She was nasty and mean and threw erasers at kids who misbehaved. I went to sixth grade camp and started “going with” Adam while we were there. He wanted to meet me outside the cabin after dinner for our first kiss. I left dinner early and hid, I chickened out. Then I had the nerve to act like he stood me up and broke up with him.
I did a lot of dumb things with friends. We spent our unsupervised time making prank phone calls, throwing rocks through the windows of new construction homes in the neighborhood (can’t believe I just admitted that), and pretending to get lost in the woods behind our house. It was when I was twelve I decided to change my career path. I went from wanting to be an astrounaut to deciding a teacher would be a better fit. I came to that conclusion after joining service squad at school. They put me in charge of the special education class and I loved it! I would watch them in their classroom for about 15 minutes every day after lunch. They were loud and obnoxious but they loved me and I loved them!
It was in sixth grade that my future high school basketball coaches “recruited” me and some friends and started our 4 year training program. Imagine that, finding some young girls and spending the next four years developing our skills and hoping we would pay off in high school. God I loved my coaches.
15 years ago…I was 17 and in loving high school. I played varsity basketball and was a starter. My team and coaches were like a second family and I couldn’t imagine life without 3 hours of basketball a day. When I was seventeen I learned one of my beloved coaches was an alcoholic and was human. I still have the goodbye letter he wrote me after he was terminated. I was part of a group of friends that self proclaimed themselves the “Erotic Eight”. The three Jennys, Tracey, Carrie, Katie, Kelly and me. We cruised Gratiot, ate dinners at fancy restaurants and frequented the teen dance clubs. We thought we were the shit and damnit looking back I think we were. I had a ridiculous crush on a guy name Pete. I was obsessed at looking at the back of his head in Spanish class. He drove an EXP and bass that could be heard for miles. He was quiet and shy but what I loved most of all was the gold bling he wore around his neck and the greasy foreigner hair he had. His best friend lived across the street from me and one day as I was walking home from the bus stop he pulled up next to me and asked me if he could give me a ride. I replied, “no thanks” in the most standoffish tone I knew how. What the fuck is all I can say about that. Can you say idiot? I’m all bark and no bite. Two months later he had a girlfriend with the same first name and last initial as me. Irony is a bitch.
When I was seventeen I was looking forward to going to WMU for college and majoring in Special Education. My three closest friends were going with me and would be my roommates. I was working at Major Magics as a birthday hostess and would let my friends steal the mini wine bottles for upcoming house parties. When my little cousins came in I would give them free tokens and candy. I would meet husband at Major Magics in the next year.
10 years ago…I was 22. I had just graduated from college and landed a 2nd grade teaching job in an awesome school district. Oddly enough one of my co-workers was the aforementioned Mrs. R., my old sixth grade teacher. She was wonderful, I adored her as a person. She was kind, giving and had a great sense of humor. I couldn’t believe she was now my mentor and friend.
I still lived at home and was waiting for younger husband to finish up his degree. I spent my weekends visiting him at college, going to alternative music concerts and clubbing with friends. Most of my Saturday nights were at a club that played 80’s retro music. It was a huge old stone church and the dance floor was on the former altar. My friends and I would drink and dance all night long in our hoochie clothes. There was something about that place, some of my fondest memories spent with my girlfriends happened there.
5 years ago…I was married and had just moved into our home. We sold our condo and had this house built as the first step in starting our family. We vacationed 3-4 times a year, layed around alot, and hung out with our friends at the bar on weekends. Our bank account was fat and we were living very comfortably…DINKS as they say. We were still kids with very few commitments and plenty of free time. We went to the movies at least once a week, ate dinner out all the time, rode bikes, and were just plain lazy. Life moved at a much slower pace and we were very happy and content in the place we were at.
Today… After a knock down drag out fight with IF I now have two gorgeous twin boys. It is as if every day before they came was the preface to my life book and the day they arrived was when Chapter One began. This new found love I have that radiates for them has opened my heart and my mind in ways I never thought possible. Our life is hectic, stressful and moving at a lightspeed pace but we love it. To wake up everyday to their smiling faces and my husbands warmth next to me is amazing to say the least. This euphoric high has been ongoing for 16 plus months and I’m hoping that though it might fade that it will never leave.
I like the name of your blog. It may mean something different to you than it does to me, but at nearly 39 with two children, 15 years of marriage, 16 years of teaching, and working on building our second new house, I STILL feel like I’m a girl.