backpack

I love my backpack. I rarely use it anymore, but I always know where it is, and what is in it. Right now it is in my closet with nothing in it. It has been used as a book bag, a carry-on, a gym bag and even a diaper bag. I love this backpack. My sister got it for me when I was going off to college, so I've had it for 12 years.

I carried it everyday during college, the first day I carried it on only one shoulder I so desperately wanted to be cool. The books were too heavy, so everyday after that I wore it on both shoulders, and was decidedly NOT COOL. Of course, I have never been cool, and I don't think the backpack had anything to do with it.

My ears stick out a little bit, more than average anyway. So I got a nickname early on in primary school that stuck with me all the way through high school. They called me "Fievel" he is the little mouse from the animated movie "An American Tail". I really hated this. I hate to admit that I would still be upset now if someone called me that (no one tell my step-son). Later when my hair was longer I always wore it down to cover my ears. While the name was not used often in high school I was uncool for other reasons. Normal reasons, that teenagers are teased for: having above average grades, living on a farm, not being from a wealthy family. (incidentally, these are all the same things that I am proud of today)

I was not, however, lacking the self-confidence, that so many of my peers did. So why then did I care so much about being cool when I started college, why did I wear my backpack on only one shoulder that day? Who knows? But, I do love that backpack!

I am 30. The day before my birthday my 13 year old stepson said to me "you are only 29?!" I thought you were in the mid-thirties. Thanks. When do teenagers get the filter? you know the one that doesn't let EVERYTHING you think come out your mouth?
For my birthday I got a a bicycle. I got a cruising bicycle just for riding around our neighborhood. It is very similar to my very first bike, I didn't learn to ride till I was in middle school. I has really wide and high handlebars. When I ride on it think I must look a little bit like the Wicked Witch of the West. (We have the same nose, too) So thanks to my new bike and being 30, I am officially the crazy lady on the street.

30

I am less than a week from turning 30. It does bother me, and I am surprised. My husband is 8 years older than I am, and I am the 5th of 6 children, so I have older brothers and sisters. My oldest brother is 12 years older than I am. When he turned 30 he was sent a dozen dead roses, and these same roses have since been sent to my sister, then my second brother, my second sister, then back to my oldest brother for his 40th birthday, then to my sister and my second brother, this time they will be sent to me. I will shortly have to send them to my second sister for her 40th before she turns around and sends them to my youngest brother for his 30th. Is that confusing?
Every year that I get older so do my children. One day my sons will replace me, as the most important woman in their life, with another woman. They are still so little now, it doesn't seem like it should bother me.
Every year that I get older so do my parents. My parents were 40 when I was born. One day I will be orphaned.
Perhaps I am bothered by my 30th birthday, because I can see myself becoming less needed everyday.

Carpeted Stairs

I have never lived anywhere with carpeted stairs. I realized this while we were house hunting over the weekend. Not important really. When I was growing up our steps where not finished. We had the risers and the steps but they were just wood, unfinished. My parents (my dad mostly) built the house himself. Every stone and nail he did himself. He worked away from home long hours and had all kinds of farm chores and my mom worked 3rd shift at a hospital. Did I mention that they had 6 children? So even after 40 years there are still some unfinished bits of their house--like the stairs. Other rooms have been redone a couple of times while somethings remained as they had for the last 20 years. Up until the summer before I got married, we didn't have a front porch. Just a big drop from the front door. We always knew if there was a stranger at the door because they would always knock on the front door instead of coming around the back like everyone else. But the summer that I got married my dad finished the front porch. Prior to that when I was in high school my paternal grandmother came to live with us, and until she came to live with us we had no bathroom doors. Just blankets stapled up or folding screens. But when she came the doors when on. Now that all the children have moved out of the house there are some things that I imagine will never be completed, like closet doors. Not one closet in my parents home has a door. I put up curtains over my closet when I lived there to keep my clothes from fading just on one shoulder, I think those are still there. Other things that will remain unfinished-the floors. The only floors that are finished are the ones with carpets, the bedrooms and the living room and den, but the hallways, bathrooms and kitchen still have particle board floors (although my dad did seal them some time ago) My mom sometimes gives my dad a hard time about this but his response is: "do you really need them" and of course the answer is no. Not that my dad doesn't want to finish, but he would rather be working outside in the field or in the barn or helping someone who really "needs" something done. I think it is honorable and I am proud of him...and I am proud of my mom for living without closet doors, finished floors, baseboards, etc.... I think the house says a lot about my parents. Every little unfinished bit tells you something that they did for their children or someone else. For every peice of tile or wood that is missing are 100 things that they did for my brothers and sisters and I. For every nail that is missing is 100 things that they have done for people in their lives.

House Buying

Sometimes I watch "House Hunters" on HGTV, but my favorite is "House Hunters International" because there are fewer Americans. I am not by any stretch of the imagination anti-American, but we have such high-expectations. For instance, I get aggravated when an American family buys a new house because the 2500 sq.ft. they currently have isn't enough for their family of 4! Are you kidding me? That is why I love "..International" because a family is happy when they get 1200 sq.ft.
I grew up in a big house, well I consider it big, I think we had about 2000 sq ft, but there were 8 of us living there. I shared a room with my two older sisters, and my three brothers shared a room and my parents had a room. Later when my Grandmother can to live with us, we turned a small office into her room. I grew up on a farm in North Eastern Indiana. My parents bought it just before they married and raised 6 kids there (I was #5) We were outside all the time, doing barn chores or just running around making noise.
We (husband and 3 boys) live now in a "half-house" as my sister calls them in Alexandria VA. It is nice, but not ours which is why we want to buy. We have a great back yard, and great neighbors. 2 things we are likely to sacrifice when we buy and move. Knowing that, my inside-living-space expectations have risen a little bit. So I should probably stop complaining about "House Hunters"....

Name

My name is Mary, and for the first 15 years of my life people called me Marybeth. I remember why they stopped calling me that, I asked them to. I didn't like it anymore, it didn't sound cool. Of course, "Mary" isn't that cool either. Until I went to college I never knew another Mary. I found out later that my Grandmother's first name was Mary but she went my her middle name. I still have never met a Mary that was a natural blond, all the ones that I know or ever knew have been brunettes (like myself). I like my name. It is a traditional name, that is rarely misspelled. My children have traditional names as well. I like that no one mispronounces their names, that people know that they are boys. Even our fish have traditional names (the ones that I named) My 4 year old named one fish 'Turtle' and another one 'Miss Spaghetti'. Some people still call me Marybeth, my Aunts and Uncles (my mom told me I couldn't ask them not to call me Marybeth) and my dance teacher from years ago. I like that. But I still introduce myself to people as Mary, it's too late to go back.

Right now.

It is raining. Really raining. The thunder was loud, but it didn't wake the boys.