MPT #4 2nd grade: the kissing machine

i believe this is my 2nd grade school photo but honestly i don't remember anymore...when i was reflecting back to what i remember of 2nd grade, the first thing that came to mind was that i was given the nickname "the kissing machine" because i used to chase the boys around (and never really kissed them, though apparently i loved to threaten it at this age when they thought girls were gross) but specifically because i pinned robbie perez down in the classroom and gave him a very wet and juicy kiss "with purple yogurt all over my lips"...not sure if that was supposed to be like lipstick...you can imagine how horrified he was and i can still remember the look of shock from the whole class like "you didn't really just do that, did you?!" and just feeling confident and proud of myself despite being misunderstood. i had a crush on robbie since we started school and this continued for much of the grades...i included a close-up class shot from third grade below just so you can see how cute he was...i'm the top left girl (remember i was probably one of the tallest children much of elementary school) and he is the top right boy...
he was one of the most athletic (at least fastest runner) boys in our class and also quite bright...he was one of the people i used to compete with during my "look at me, teacher, i know the answer"-high-hand-raising-waving obnoxious age period (this lasted quite awhile)...i specifically remember debating with him how long a second was...of course we were both wrong because we were trying to show off how fast we could count instead of the actual speed of a second...

but back to the idea of feeling confident and not caring what people thought after that juicy kiss...2nd grade was probably the last childhood year where i strongly believed i was meant for greatness (remember i had older neighbors...two girls about 5 years older than me... who used to build me up and say how smart i was and how brilliant i was going to be when i grew up) and that no one could stop me...i believed in myself and didn't care if i was understood. i was going to try to summarize this idea for the "theme" of second grade which i remember very fondly (i also liked my teacher a lot, mrs. sheldon) but i thought "kissing machine" would stand out more and i suppose on some level it also depicts the wild, care-free "throw-caution-to-the-wind" stance i took to life...considering my first boyfriend was at age 24 (who is also my ONLY boyfriend and now husband), i was quite far from really a "kissing machine" as i grew up...much more on that front later but for now let's focus on how much i enjoyed this year and some of the other positive things i remember about 2nd grade...

i think i've already told you what a "daddy's girl" i was and would continue to be...i regret i got so literal about finding age-appropriate photos for this post that i didn't put any of my dad in...many more of those for later posts...anyway, one thing i remember from a young age though i'm not sure it was 2nd specifically is walking down the halls of "west hall" which was my dad's building on the university where he worked...the walls and carpet were all done in dark reddish wood color and it was noticeably SILENT in there with thick, locked doors on every side...i would walk slowly and quietly (odd behavior for me usually) almost tiptoeing on my way to my dad's office where i always felt so safe and PROUD of him...he was a psychiatric social worker who HELPED people...FIXED them...made them better and in my mind, made the world go round...i believed deeply in him and believed he believed in me and i could do anything...

this was also the year that i became best friends with cara...we were in one another's weddings and crazily enough, she just moved to within a couple miles away here in san diego so our friendship has gone through a lot and gotten stronger in the 30 plus years we have known one another...again, i regret there is not a photo of her here, but there will be many of them since we continued through elementary school until she left in 10th for boarding school...we had many playdates and were inseparable from this age on but for much childhood drama in later years that i'll share in later posts...

i also want to throw in something about writing. i have a very vivid memory from a school open house...of course in my narcissistic mind i believe it was first grade but watching my daughter just learning to sound out words in kindergarten, it was probably several grades later...anyway, the memory is that the teacher asked us to write a story for our parents on that light tan paper with huge lines and a dashed line in the middle (where you practiced handwriting) and my memory isn't even about the content of my story so much as the fact that it went on and on much like my free associating writing style now...so much so that it was taped up higher on the wall than all the other stories and they were laminated so mine continued in a roll down onto the ground so you had to roll it out and step on it to read the whole thing...that makes me laugh because it was so ME and so dramatic and verbal and like i had so much to say i couldn't stop....

i also have fond memories of reading a lot at this age (mostly my parents would read to me but i was learning how to read)...this passion continued throughout all of our lives...i named my child "story" if that tells you anything...

i'm already enjoying having less photos...in part because there really are less photos of me from the grades but also because it forces me to think of actual memories instead of using photos to jog memories or direct where my thoughts will go...this one was in my previous post but i never went back to share any of the yosemite stories...the two i wanted to share (i believe i was 6 or 7 so that would have been 1st or 2nd grade) will follow after the photo...
1) i remember packing a watermelon in our car and driving a LONG time in HOT weather on lots of WINDY roads to get there...the watermelon was making gassy sounds and when we arrived that night my dad declared the heat had been too much for it and it was rotten. so he threw it in the garbage can next to our cabin. early in the morning we woke up to the metal cans being knocked around and into one another and there was a BEAR trying to eat the watermelon...crazy part of the story is that we all marched outside like he would be more interested in that than us and fortunately he was...the way my dad would tell this story (remember we named our son story in part because my dad love to tell tales) the bear became more or less intoxicated on the rotten watermelon and was swaying and falling down a lot...funny visual in my head though i remember the drama of my dad's version and getting people to laugh more than the actual experience...son just woke up...more later...ok i'm back the next day...
2) i remember staying in an a-frame cabin complete with all sorts of bright 70's decor...long red shag carpet going up the stairs to the loft...we would feed wild deer in the morning and touch their velvety antlers...cook and eat together with some friends who traveled with our family...i loved these times...they were actually quite adventurous for my family...we are thinking of buying an rv to have similar adventures with our children...next we have my sister and i dressing up with our dog snowflake (more stories about him will come in future posts)...
a photo of my mom with my sister and me...i wanted to add that i started taking piano lessons about this time. my mom is a very talented pianist but she was painfully shy so even though she performed a lot as a child she couldn't go as far as she would have if she hadn't been doubled over with stomach aches and fear...this led to her hoping my sister and i would live out her musical dreams and we ended up hating playing/practicing the piano even though we took lessons most of our childhood years...i still have very little to show for it and would love to take piano as an adult where i would do it because i want to and not because i had to or was trying to fulfill something for my mom (more on this issue in future posts, too)...

nearly every summer we would go to the east coast to visit my dad's relatives who mostly live in virginia and maryland...here, from left to right TOP ROW: my dad's BIL bill, his sister nancy, his nephew wayne, his mom in bright yellow, his sister amanda, his dad in light yellow, his nephew fred, his sister margaret ann, his BIL fred, my dad and then my mom looking down

i'm in the middle standing, also in light yellow...holding on to my favorite cousin jay (he was 8 years older than me and i had quite the crush on him)...my sister marci is looking up at us...aunt elizabeth and cousin hollie looking up at my mom...my dad was very much from the south...he kept his accent most of his life and had "virginia is for lovers" shirts and said he'd always be a virginian at heart...there are many influences from the south on my life that i'll touch on through these posts...
i'll leave you with one of my sister and me after going trick-or-treating (my dad says pretty much by the time i was talking i said "daddy, do you have to go with me? i want to go alone" which makes me so sad to think about!)
i hope to keep up this childhood innocence, freedom, love of life, care-free, naive, child-like play-based perspective on life in myself and my own children for as long as i can!

this post is the 4th in a series of 15 posts recording my childhood through MPT "mommy's piggy tales".