Posted by: undularbore | December 29, 2010

Screw the Bastards

Emotionally painful and vacant which gave me introspective, lots of time outdoors being a tomboy, being happy with friends, wishing I was someplace else, learning early on that I’m different and dealing with people because of that is both difficult and rewarding. This list sums up my opinion of my childhood.

I remember events as far back as three years old. I remember snowball the cat and times before my sister was born. I remember going on car trips/day trips with my parents and their friends or family members. One of those car trips was just riding around in the country. Perhaps my parents were looking for something particular. But I just remember riding around, lots of country side and towards the end of the trip having to pee so bad, all of us had to, being the youngest I had to wait. (Why didn’t they let me piss out in the yard? They were hippies for chrissakes!) I will never forget that pain of having to wait though, 35 years later I remember waiting by the bathroom door for my turn and doing the pee dance. I remember riding ponies, there was a place that was pretty much by the side of the road and had ponies and horses and you could ride them around this circular pen. I remember having great ideas (they probably sucked) and not having anyone that would hear me out. So I also remember sitting in my room sulking about how there’s no one with me on my level that I can talk to and feeling alone.

What I don’t remember about my childhood, since I was so young, is worth noting though. A week after my birth my bellybutton became dreadfully infected from wet diapers. (Yep, someone was depressed and not doing a great job with the new addition). I was crying all the time, dad recalls it was one of the worst baby screams/cries he’s ever heard but the absolute worst scream was when they took me to the doctor to get my belly button cauterized. The funny thing is I always wondered why my belly button was sensitive, so deep, and looked different than other belly buttons I have seen. Once I heard this story my deep, different belly button made sense. The other thing I don’t remember was the episode of colic I had. This colic episode proves I was unhappy from birth, damn it! But when I read about the possible causes of colic my eyes and mind focus on “the presence of excessive anger, anxiety, fear or excitement”. Damn, that’s the perfect description of my mother. No joke! She and I apparently have had a contentious relationship from the start. Great way to start the game, eh?

At 4.5 years old my sister entered the picture. Here’s how I found out about my upcoming sister: I’m playing in the living room, by myself, staying out of mom’s way and she calls to me from the kitchen (small house so the kitchen isn’t that far away) to ask if I would like a little brother or sister. I quickly responded with NO. She asked why and wouldn’t I want someone to play with? My answer was still no since I had friends I could play with. But my nay saying meant nothing, of course, the little booger was coming whether I liked it or not. Hurmpf. Then came the all so interesting part of mom’s belly getting bigger and poking her, wondering if I was going to have a little brother or sister. I wanted a brother. The birth came at the end of summer, I stayed with my mom’s brother that night wondering who this new person is going to be? Male, female, irritating, good, bad, what? Dad comes home and lets me know I now have a sister and they’ve named her in honor of himself. Next came the excitement of getting mom and this new sister from the hospital. Barrel of laughs ensues since I was left alone in the waiting room for who knows how long. I remember that place so well!  The hospital, at the time, had these groovy wooden telephone booths, like four or five of them. There was limited seating. I spent a lot of time in those booths, opening and closing the doors, going in and out of them and trying to reach for the phones but couldn’t. Waiting, waiting and waiting finally here comes mom with the my new little sister  in her lap. My childhood had changed.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Categories