The problem with having a good memory (as everyone tells me I have) is that sometimes I remember things that I don't want to remember.
And when I think about my life, the time when I did the stupidest, worst things when I was in ninth grade. A decade later, I'm glad I'm not that age anymore.
There is one event that when I think about it now, I am filled with so much guilt and embarrassment that I want to close my eyes in shame (which means I can't think about it when I'm driving).
It was towards the end of the school year in 2004. In my Earth Systems class, we were working in the computer lab. It was school policy that you weren't allowed to play games online, and if you did, you could lose your computer access. Well, the girl sitting next to me was playing games.
Call me what you will--a tattle-tale, a nark, a squealer--I went and told the teacher, "Jennifer Bakker* is playing computer games," and then I went and sat in my seat.
[*Names have been changed.]
The teacher then said out loud, "Jennifer Bakker, shut down your computer." The girl next to me said, "Do you think she knows?" and closed out of her computer game.
Then I noticed the computer lady walking with a girl down to the office.
And soon thereafter, the teacher came up to me and said, "Did you mean the girl sitting by you?"
You see, there was a girl named Jennifer Bakker in my class. But it wasn't the girl next to me playing video games. Her name was Janelle Evans*. I had condemned an innocent girl.
The teacher said to me that she did notice that the girl next to me had closed out of her game. I don't remember exactly what she said, but it sounded like when I told her Jennifer Bakker, she thought I was talking about Janelle Evans.
I think it got sorted out that Jennifer hadn't done anything wrong. But I felt so terrible and dumb.
I suppose it wasn't any of my business what Janelle was doing on her computer. It wasn't my place to tattle. Maybe it would have been if she were looking at porn or learning how to build a bomb, but not for just playing games. But even if I was justified in telling on her, I definitely should not have done so without knowing her name.
Last summer, I told this story to some classmates in my French class. One of them said to me, "We would have shoved you in a locker for that."
And that would have been fitting. (Except that I was too big to fit in the lockers.)
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Sunday, August 18, 2013
An embarrassing first-grade February day
Note: The following story is a little bit gross, but hopefully in an amusing way.
I can remember one day in February 1996 when I was at recess. I'm not sure if I had had a cold, or if the cold weather was affecting me. Whatever the case was, I had a runny nose.
But when I say "runny," I don't mean the kind in which the mucus is almost like water so that it drips out of your nose. I mean the kind where it is thick and gloopy and yellowish-greenish.
(Interesting side note: I just learned that mucus is the noun form, while mucous is the adjective form. I had no idea!)
Anyway, I was down on the field with two female friends, Destani Mata and I don't remember who else. I had a runny nose, and apparently I didn't have a tissue, because the snot was just hanging out of my nose.
The bell rang, so we went up to go back in. But since it was February, there was a layer of snow on the ground, just slippery enough to make it difficult to walk up the grassy hill portion of the field. We tried to walk up, but we kept slipping back, while the boogers hanging from my face kept getting longer and longer.
Eventually we made it up the hill, but all the other kids had already made it inside, so my friends and I had to hurry up to get back to class. As we ascended the concrete steps at the entrance of the school (steps that have since been demolished and replaced), I stooped down to see if I could wipe the dangling snot off on the ground. Destani said to me, "Come on!" But as I lifted my head, I was dismayed to find that the boogers were so deep in my nasal cavity that when I lifted my head, the dangling portion would not break off and stick to the ground as I had hoped.
So I walked into the school with large "noodles" dangling out of my nose, my hand under my nose in case they fell off.
That is what I looked like as I walked into my first grade classroom. Since we were late, the whole class was already seated and the teacher was giving a lecture. I had to walk across the front of the room in order to grab a tissue from the tissue box. "Ewww!" was the response I heard from my class as I walked across the room.
The class policy was that anyone who was late from recess would have their name written on the board and they would have to stay in for afternoon recess.
I don't think I had ever been late from recess before. When afternoon recess rolled around, I was actually content to stay in, because it would give me more time to work on my Presidents' Day art project. (That's how I know this was in February.) I think the policy might have been that you actually had to put your head down and not do anything, but I didn't know that. My teacher, Mrs. Taylor, came over to me and asked me why I had been late. She seemed annoyed, maybe because I wasn't supposed to be working on the project. I explained to her how we tried to come up the hill but kept slipping. I know that seems like an unlikely excuse, but it was true. Mrs. Taylor accepted my explanation and told me to go outside. I'm not sure whether she thought it a reasonable reason, or whether she just knew I had a good track record of being on time, or whether she just didn't want any kids in the room that recess. I was a little disappointed to go out to recess, because I worried I wouldn't finish my art project.
That day, my friends David Christensen and Kennie Christiansen came over after school. We were in my bedroom, and they were discussing my moment from earlier in the day. David started exhaling so that the contents of his nose would come out, in imitation of me. Kennie told him that was gross.
I was surprised that David did that, because I thought of him as a fine, moral person. You see, back then I didn't realize that there were varying degrees was grossness; I thought that gross was gross. Now I know that some things are grosser than others. There's unchastity gross, bathroom gross, and all sorts of grossness. Snot is only a little bit grosser than earwax or those particles you rub out of your eyes when you wake up.
Which is why I can devote a whole post to that kind of grossness.
I can remember one day in February 1996 when I was at recess. I'm not sure if I had had a cold, or if the cold weather was affecting me. Whatever the case was, I had a runny nose.
But when I say "runny," I don't mean the kind in which the mucus is almost like water so that it drips out of your nose. I mean the kind where it is thick and gloopy and yellowish-greenish.
(Interesting side note: I just learned that mucus is the noun form, while mucous is the adjective form. I had no idea!)
Anyway, I was down on the field with two female friends, Destani Mata and I don't remember who else. I had a runny nose, and apparently I didn't have a tissue, because the snot was just hanging out of my nose.
The bell rang, so we went up to go back in. But since it was February, there was a layer of snow on the ground, just slippery enough to make it difficult to walk up the grassy hill portion of the field. We tried to walk up, but we kept slipping back, while the boogers hanging from my face kept getting longer and longer.
Eventually we made it up the hill, but all the other kids had already made it inside, so my friends and I had to hurry up to get back to class. As we ascended the concrete steps at the entrance of the school (steps that have since been demolished and replaced), I stooped down to see if I could wipe the dangling snot off on the ground. Destani said to me, "Come on!" But as I lifted my head, I was dismayed to find that the boogers were so deep in my nasal cavity that when I lifted my head, the dangling portion would not break off and stick to the ground as I had hoped.
So I walked into the school with large "noodles" dangling out of my nose, my hand under my nose in case they fell off.
That is what I looked like as I walked into my first grade classroom. Since we were late, the whole class was already seated and the teacher was giving a lecture. I had to walk across the front of the room in order to grab a tissue from the tissue box. "Ewww!" was the response I heard from my class as I walked across the room.
The class policy was that anyone who was late from recess would have their name written on the board and they would have to stay in for afternoon recess.
I don't think I had ever been late from recess before. When afternoon recess rolled around, I was actually content to stay in, because it would give me more time to work on my Presidents' Day art project. (That's how I know this was in February.) I think the policy might have been that you actually had to put your head down and not do anything, but I didn't know that. My teacher, Mrs. Taylor, came over to me and asked me why I had been late. She seemed annoyed, maybe because I wasn't supposed to be working on the project. I explained to her how we tried to come up the hill but kept slipping. I know that seems like an unlikely excuse, but it was true. Mrs. Taylor accepted my explanation and told me to go outside. I'm not sure whether she thought it a reasonable reason, or whether she just knew I had a good track record of being on time, or whether she just didn't want any kids in the room that recess. I was a little disappointed to go out to recess, because I worried I wouldn't finish my art project.
That day, my friends David Christensen and Kennie Christiansen came over after school. We were in my bedroom, and they were discussing my moment from earlier in the day. David started exhaling so that the contents of his nose would come out, in imitation of me. Kennie told him that was gross.
I was surprised that David did that, because I thought of him as a fine, moral person. You see, back then I didn't realize that there were varying degrees was grossness; I thought that gross was gross. Now I know that some things are grosser than others. There's unchastity gross, bathroom gross, and all sorts of grossness. Snot is only a little bit grosser than earwax or those particles you rub out of your eyes when you wake up.
Which is why I can devote a whole post to that kind of grossness.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Wishing Well Preschool
When I was five, I attended a preschool. It was called Wishing Well, although I only knew that was the name because my friend David Christensen, who also attended, would call it that.
Since both of my siblings went to school, I would often ask my parents when I would get to go to school. Eventually they enrolled me in this preschool, and I was really excited.
Until the day came for me to go. I was so scared to go that I went in my parents' room and locked my mom out in an attempt not to go. But I forgot to lock the back door, so I was scared when I saw my fuming mother coming around the back.
I actually enjoyed going to school after that. David and I would carpool, so when the kids would see us getting out of the same car every morning, they assumed we were brothers. I remember once when I was looking for my backpack. I asked a girl if she had seen my backpack. She said, "Your brother has it"--and indeed, David Christensen (not David Melville, of course) was walking around with my backpack, calling my name.
One of my classmates was Colby Johnson, who broke his arm twice during the school year.
Every morning we would have opening activities with everyone. Then we would separate into smaller groups and do different things.
One of our activities was show and tell. This was one of those incidents where when one kid shows something, everyone shows it. One common activity for show and tell was folding a blanket. One day I decided I was going to fold a blanket for show and tell, so I took a little blanket that had a bear holding balloons on it. I practiced folding before I went and invented my own way of folding it. It was not an even fold. When it was my turn to fold it, I seem to recall the teacher laughing or exclaiming when I folded it with just a little bit leftover. That day, half the kids folded blankets for show and tell, and I felt dumb for doing the same thing as everyone else.
We had various playing stations. One was a table that was full of dry rice and had toys in it--kind of like a sandbox. One day toward the end of the year, we had a special water day and they changed the rice in the table to water.
Sometimes we would get refreshments. Once I remember we had Jello, and David discovered that if you swished it around fast in your mouth, it would turn into juice. Sometimes we would have graham crackers and milk, and I discovered that graham crackers would get soggy a lot faster if you waved them around in the milk instead of just letting them sit there.
Once we made our own popsicles by putting juice into little paper cups and putting sticks in them. The cups had pictures from Aladdin on them. When we got our frozen popsicles back, one girl was laughing at the picture on the cup that had the Sultan's pants down. She said something about "his panties," and I remember thinking that that wasn't true, because panties are for girls.
At five, I still sucked my thumb, so I remember one day when some boys pointed to me and said, "Baby, baby!" At home, my brother David would always tell me I needed to quit sucking my thumb. One day he told me that kids would make fun of me. I told him of this incident and said that it didn't bother me. He told me that older kids were meaner when they made fun.
I remember some field trips. On one occasion we were on a bus and noted that we didn't have any seatbelts. There were some footrests at the bottom of the seats in front of us. We didn't know what they were and wondered if they were some special kind of bus seatbelt.
One day we went to a farm and the farmer showed us cottonseed, which really did look like a seed covered in cotton. They showed us a lamb, which I thought was positively adorable. I think it was on the way home from this trip that David and I were riding in the back of a van or a bus. I was singing a song I had heard from the Sister Act soundtrack, "Nothing you can say can take me away from my God," although I didn't know many lyrics. David, on the other hand, was singing "I Lived in Heaven."
On another occasion we went to a dairy factory and they told us that Little Miss Muffett's curds and whey was cottage cheese. They gave us little paper hats, and I remember one day when we were eating lunch at David's house, he went and got his to wear during lunch.
I think one day we went to the Festival of Trees.
On another occasion at Christmastime, we performed the Mexican Hat Dance for a bunch of old people. Afterward we got those little cheap, red suckers with white powder on them in the form of a Santa face. Then we went back to school and colored and glittered our Christmas countdown papers.
Once we rode ponies in the schoolyard. Often we would walk over to a nearby park. On one of these park visits, I was surprised to see a mailman driving with the door open, and one of my classmates told me they always did that.
Upstairs in the preschool building was a big dance floor, and we would go up and play. We used to do a dance/game to "Three Blind Mice." One day near Valentine's Day, they gave us conversation hearts that had faces on them. Sometimes they would let us dress up. I remember being silly with another girl and dressing up in a red dress. It was big and I kept slipping on it, and we thought that was really funny. (It seems like our teacher may have forbidden me from wearing it because I kept tripping on it--but that was what made it so fun!) On another occasion, a kindergartener who had been in the preschool the previous year came and visited, and I always wanted to visit when I got bigger. (I never did.)
Once we had a whole unit about other cultures. I remember getting Russia and Asia confused, and we had a girl named Asia in our class.
During one of the early days of this unit, the teachers asked if we could bring a doll from another country. One day I went to the dentist, and for a prize I got a little ugly troll. I noticed a word on the troll, so I asked my mom what it said. She said, "China," meaning it was made it China. I told her that we were supposed to bring dolls from different countries, and she told me that it wasn't really from China. But I took it in anyway and said, "This was made in China!"
Different parents gave presentations about different countries. The mom who did British culture told us that they called their moms "Mum," which we thought was really funny. One mom brought Haribo frogs because that culture ate frog legs (and no, I'm not sure if it was France).
One day near Easter, we did a craft project that used two pieces of wallpaper as two pieces of an eggshell that you would move and see the chick inside. (It's hard to describe.)
Then came the last day. Here is a paragraph I wrote about the last day from another blog post:
"They gave us pictures of our class and pencils that had pictures of the earth. They also gave us bags of clothes. These were clothes that our parents had given to the teachers in case we ever peed our pants, but a lot of us thought they were just giving us clothes. I can't remember whether or not I recognized the clothes as my own, but I do remember that I didn't recognize the Mario underwear as my own. (In fact, I think that underwear might have originally belonged to a friend named Keith, or else he had some that was the same. Underwear has a way of changing houses among children who are scared to use strangers' bathrooms.) One boy in my class was tearing off pieces from his plastic bag and eating them, saying, "I love plastic." I thought how I liked it too, but my mom and brother had told me it wasn't good to eat. (It's possible this last part was a dream; sometimes it's hard to distinguish old memories from dreams--but I always thought it really happened.) Then I think I played with my friend David Christensen while my parents were getting ready for camping. It was an overcast day."
I'm sure I will remember more preschool memories later!
Since both of my siblings went to school, I would often ask my parents when I would get to go to school. Eventually they enrolled me in this preschool, and I was really excited.
Until the day came for me to go. I was so scared to go that I went in my parents' room and locked my mom out in an attempt not to go. But I forgot to lock the back door, so I was scared when I saw my fuming mother coming around the back.
I actually enjoyed going to school after that. David and I would carpool, so when the kids would see us getting out of the same car every morning, they assumed we were brothers. I remember once when I was looking for my backpack. I asked a girl if she had seen my backpack. She said, "Your brother has it"--and indeed, David Christensen (not David Melville, of course) was walking around with my backpack, calling my name.
One of my classmates was Colby Johnson, who broke his arm twice during the school year.
Every morning we would have opening activities with everyone. Then we would separate into smaller groups and do different things.
One of our activities was show and tell. This was one of those incidents where when one kid shows something, everyone shows it. One common activity for show and tell was folding a blanket. One day I decided I was going to fold a blanket for show and tell, so I took a little blanket that had a bear holding balloons on it. I practiced folding before I went and invented my own way of folding it. It was not an even fold. When it was my turn to fold it, I seem to recall the teacher laughing or exclaiming when I folded it with just a little bit leftover. That day, half the kids folded blankets for show and tell, and I felt dumb for doing the same thing as everyone else.
We had various playing stations. One was a table that was full of dry rice and had toys in it--kind of like a sandbox. One day toward the end of the year, we had a special water day and they changed the rice in the table to water.
Sometimes we would get refreshments. Once I remember we had Jello, and David discovered that if you swished it around fast in your mouth, it would turn into juice. Sometimes we would have graham crackers and milk, and I discovered that graham crackers would get soggy a lot faster if you waved them around in the milk instead of just letting them sit there.
Once we made our own popsicles by putting juice into little paper cups and putting sticks in them. The cups had pictures from Aladdin on them. When we got our frozen popsicles back, one girl was laughing at the picture on the cup that had the Sultan's pants down. She said something about "his panties," and I remember thinking that that wasn't true, because panties are for girls.
At five, I still sucked my thumb, so I remember one day when some boys pointed to me and said, "Baby, baby!" At home, my brother David would always tell me I needed to quit sucking my thumb. One day he told me that kids would make fun of me. I told him of this incident and said that it didn't bother me. He told me that older kids were meaner when they made fun.
I remember some field trips. On one occasion we were on a bus and noted that we didn't have any seatbelts. There were some footrests at the bottom of the seats in front of us. We didn't know what they were and wondered if they were some special kind of bus seatbelt.
One day we went to a farm and the farmer showed us cottonseed, which really did look like a seed covered in cotton. They showed us a lamb, which I thought was positively adorable. I think it was on the way home from this trip that David and I were riding in the back of a van or a bus. I was singing a song I had heard from the Sister Act soundtrack, "Nothing you can say can take me away from my God," although I didn't know many lyrics. David, on the other hand, was singing "I Lived in Heaven."
On another occasion we went to a dairy factory and they told us that Little Miss Muffett's curds and whey was cottage cheese. They gave us little paper hats, and I remember one day when we were eating lunch at David's house, he went and got his to wear during lunch.
I think one day we went to the Festival of Trees.
On another occasion at Christmastime, we performed the Mexican Hat Dance for a bunch of old people. Afterward we got those little cheap, red suckers with white powder on them in the form of a Santa face. Then we went back to school and colored and glittered our Christmas countdown papers.
Once we rode ponies in the schoolyard. Often we would walk over to a nearby park. On one of these park visits, I was surprised to see a mailman driving with the door open, and one of my classmates told me they always did that.
Upstairs in the preschool building was a big dance floor, and we would go up and play. We used to do a dance/game to "Three Blind Mice." One day near Valentine's Day, they gave us conversation hearts that had faces on them. Sometimes they would let us dress up. I remember being silly with another girl and dressing up in a red dress. It was big and I kept slipping on it, and we thought that was really funny. (It seems like our teacher may have forbidden me from wearing it because I kept tripping on it--but that was what made it so fun!) On another occasion, a kindergartener who had been in the preschool the previous year came and visited, and I always wanted to visit when I got bigger. (I never did.)
Once we had a whole unit about other cultures. I remember getting Russia and Asia confused, and we had a girl named Asia in our class.
During one of the early days of this unit, the teachers asked if we could bring a doll from another country. One day I went to the dentist, and for a prize I got a little ugly troll. I noticed a word on the troll, so I asked my mom what it said. She said, "China," meaning it was made it China. I told her that we were supposed to bring dolls from different countries, and she told me that it wasn't really from China. But I took it in anyway and said, "This was made in China!"
Different parents gave presentations about different countries. The mom who did British culture told us that they called their moms "Mum," which we thought was really funny. One mom brought Haribo frogs because that culture ate frog legs (and no, I'm not sure if it was France).
One day near Easter, we did a craft project that used two pieces of wallpaper as two pieces of an eggshell that you would move and see the chick inside. (It's hard to describe.)
Then came the last day. Here is a paragraph I wrote about the last day from another blog post:
"They gave us pictures of our class and pencils that had pictures of the earth. They also gave us bags of clothes. These were clothes that our parents had given to the teachers in case we ever peed our pants, but a lot of us thought they were just giving us clothes. I can't remember whether or not I recognized the clothes as my own, but I do remember that I didn't recognize the Mario underwear as my own. (In fact, I think that underwear might have originally belonged to a friend named Keith, or else he had some that was the same. Underwear has a way of changing houses among children who are scared to use strangers' bathrooms.) One boy in my class was tearing off pieces from his plastic bag and eating them, saying, "I love plastic." I thought how I liked it too, but my mom and brother had told me it wasn't good to eat. (It's possible this last part was a dream; sometimes it's hard to distinguish old memories from dreams--but I always thought it really happened.) Then I think I played with my friend David Christensen while my parents were getting ready for camping. It was an overcast day."
I'm sure I will remember more preschool memories later!
Monday, August 5, 2013
The "Crazy Years"
When my sister Susanne was a teenager, she went through a time that we call the "crazy years." I was only a little kid, about five. I now know some of the things that were going on, but I don't know all of it. However, I'm going to write about what I remember as a little kid. (My brother would have a rather different recollection of the goings-on of this time period.)
I have one memory that would have occurred early on in the crazy years or maybe even before them. We had some other kids over, the Downings, and I saw a ripe tomato in our backyard garden. I thought it was really cool--even though I didn't like tomatoes--so I picked it and carried it around with me that day. That night I slept in my sister's bed; I liked to do that. (I don't remember where she slept--maybe on the other mattress, since it was a trundle bed.) I even took the tomato to bed with me. I woke up in the morning--but the tomato didn't. I smashed it in the middle of the night. It stained the sheet, and for a long time after that I would ask to see the stained sheet.
I would have been in preschool, although I actually don't remember my preschool life overlapping with my crazy-year life. I think my preschool was only a few days a week.
I would spend the days at home with Susanne. She would faint often. I would hear her sigh and she would fall to the floor. Sometimes I would like to go over and open her eyes. I remember her using vinegar to clean the carpet after she would pee on it. Eventually she got a monitor to carry around, and I was supposed to press a little button whenever she fainted. Sometimes I would do it; however, it made an eerie beeping noise, so I was often too creeped out to press it. Once my mom and sister asked me why I didn't press it, and I told them it was scary.
Although her fainting was a regular occurrence, one day I decided to call 911 when she fainted. I remember the dispatcher asking me where she fainted. I told her, "In the living room," because that's where it happened--although I don't think that's what the dispatcher wanted to know. The police showed up and I let them in. One officer asked what her name was. When I told him, he kept saying "Susanne" to try to revive her. (Apparently some news channel called us later and talked to my dad, asking if they could do a story about me. He said, "I'll have to talk to my wife about it"--thus blowing my chance at fame. Rats!)
Susanne and my mom also had to go to counseling appointments. Sometimes I would go with. I remember one visit when the counselor told Susanne to make sure she ate veggies--I had never heard "vegetables" abbreviated that way before. There was another visit shortly after Christmas, when my mom bought me a Christmas stamp kit (probably on clearance). I think she got it to go with the turtle stamp I got at Sea World. I can remember sitting outside the office, stamping away on a piece of paper. I can't remember whether the stamp had music notes on it, or if only the ink pad was decorated with music notes. I remember getting home and stamping with my turtle stamp as well.
Susanne didn't go to school and was tutored by "Wangs," the women's coach at South Davis Junior High (I didn't know that was her name until I went to SDJH). I remember one wintery day when my mom was playing outside in the snow with me while Wangs was inside tutoring. We threw a snowball at the window. Then when we went back inside, I told them that we threw a snowball at the window, and Wangs said, "I said, 'Who threw that snowball?'" We had a wooden puzzle-piece reindeer, and Wangs asked me what its name was. I told her Rudolph, and she said it couldn't be Rudolph because its nose wasn't red.
During the day I would watch TV with Susanne. She liked watching the Vicki talk show. She used to watch reruns of I Love Lucy and Bewitched and occasionally The Andy Griffith Show. I remember watching the Bewitched episode in which Tabitha goes into the story of Hansel and Gretel. I remember the Lucy episode when they were in Europe and had to have multiple language interpreters. This was the first seed in my interest in old TV shows.
My dad had a rowing machine that had a large black rectangle with little white specks on it. I decided that it looked like a TV with a starry sky on it, so I would pretend it was showing The Jetsons. Later I decided that if it was showing The Jetsons, it could show other shows as well, so I remember one day pretending that I had a whole collection of shows to watch on this imaginary TV. I told Susanne that I even had Vicki.
We also used to watch The Sound of Music almost every day.
I remember one day there was a cat stuck in our window well. Susanne and I went out with my little blue blanket and put it down the window well so that the cat could climb out.
I'm sure I will remember more after I post this--but that's all for now!
I have one memory that would have occurred early on in the crazy years or maybe even before them. We had some other kids over, the Downings, and I saw a ripe tomato in our backyard garden. I thought it was really cool--even though I didn't like tomatoes--so I picked it and carried it around with me that day. That night I slept in my sister's bed; I liked to do that. (I don't remember where she slept--maybe on the other mattress, since it was a trundle bed.) I even took the tomato to bed with me. I woke up in the morning--but the tomato didn't. I smashed it in the middle of the night. It stained the sheet, and for a long time after that I would ask to see the stained sheet.
I would have been in preschool, although I actually don't remember my preschool life overlapping with my crazy-year life. I think my preschool was only a few days a week.
I would spend the days at home with Susanne. She would faint often. I would hear her sigh and she would fall to the floor. Sometimes I would like to go over and open her eyes. I remember her using vinegar to clean the carpet after she would pee on it. Eventually she got a monitor to carry around, and I was supposed to press a little button whenever she fainted. Sometimes I would do it; however, it made an eerie beeping noise, so I was often too creeped out to press it. Once my mom and sister asked me why I didn't press it, and I told them it was scary.
Although her fainting was a regular occurrence, one day I decided to call 911 when she fainted. I remember the dispatcher asking me where she fainted. I told her, "In the living room," because that's where it happened--although I don't think that's what the dispatcher wanted to know. The police showed up and I let them in. One officer asked what her name was. When I told him, he kept saying "Susanne" to try to revive her. (Apparently some news channel called us later and talked to my dad, asking if they could do a story about me. He said, "I'll have to talk to my wife about it"--thus blowing my chance at fame. Rats!)
Susanne and my mom also had to go to counseling appointments. Sometimes I would go with. I remember one visit when the counselor told Susanne to make sure she ate veggies--I had never heard "vegetables" abbreviated that way before. There was another visit shortly after Christmas, when my mom bought me a Christmas stamp kit (probably on clearance). I think she got it to go with the turtle stamp I got at Sea World. I can remember sitting outside the office, stamping away on a piece of paper. I can't remember whether the stamp had music notes on it, or if only the ink pad was decorated with music notes. I remember getting home and stamping with my turtle stamp as well.
Susanne didn't go to school and was tutored by "Wangs," the women's coach at South Davis Junior High (I didn't know that was her name until I went to SDJH). I remember one wintery day when my mom was playing outside in the snow with me while Wangs was inside tutoring. We threw a snowball at the window. Then when we went back inside, I told them that we threw a snowball at the window, and Wangs said, "I said, 'Who threw that snowball?'" We had a wooden puzzle-piece reindeer, and Wangs asked me what its name was. I told her Rudolph, and she said it couldn't be Rudolph because its nose wasn't red.
During the day I would watch TV with Susanne. She liked watching the Vicki talk show. She used to watch reruns of I Love Lucy and Bewitched and occasionally The Andy Griffith Show. I remember watching the Bewitched episode in which Tabitha goes into the story of Hansel and Gretel. I remember the Lucy episode when they were in Europe and had to have multiple language interpreters. This was the first seed in my interest in old TV shows.
My dad had a rowing machine that had a large black rectangle with little white specks on it. I decided that it looked like a TV with a starry sky on it, so I would pretend it was showing The Jetsons. Later I decided that if it was showing The Jetsons, it could show other shows as well, so I remember one day pretending that I had a whole collection of shows to watch on this imaginary TV. I told Susanne that I even had Vicki.
We also used to watch The Sound of Music almost every day.
I remember one day there was a cat stuck in our window well. Susanne and I went out with my little blue blanket and put it down the window well so that the cat could climb out.
I'm sure I will remember more after I post this--but that's all for now!
Friday, August 2, 2013
Things Nathaniel says
The final installment of this series focuses on my youngest nephew, Nathaniel Qi-en "Baby" Melville. (I'm not sure if "Qi-en" is the proper spelling, since I've actually never seen it written, but I'm going to use it until someone tells me it's another spelling. It's pronounced "chee-UN.")
The first time I met Baby was in December 2010, but he was less than a year old and he was sick, so he didn't do any talking.
Then I didn't get to see him again for another year. On December 29, 2011, we brought David's family home from the airport and were sitting in our living room. I held out my arms, and we were all pleasantly surprised when Baby came running over to me and let me pick him up and put him on my lap. He started "talking" to me. Only it wasn't really talking. He just went "Wehhhh." It was really cute. He pointed to the decorative ornament lights on the fireplace that changed colors, and went, "Wehhh." Whereas Preston spoke his own language when he was a toddler and it was obvious he knew what he was saying, it seemed to me that Nathaniel was talking just for the sake of talking--he didn't actually know what he was saying. The next day we went to the natural history museum at the U. I held him, and he kept saying "Wehhh" throughout the museum. First he pointed to dinosaur skulls, so I thought he was "talking" about the dinosaurs. But then later he pointed to pictures of Utah archaeology, pictures that weren't particularly interesting, so I don't think he was really trying to say anything.
He did say more than just "wehhh." He incessantly watched a YouTube video with puppets singing an "Uh huh" song, and he would sing along with it:
(When I recorded this, my batteries died before he finished, so I barely missed him singing the whole song.)
He also picked up Allie's name, and he would say "goggy" for "doggy." He overextended "goggy" to refer to our cat, and if he saw the cat, he would say, "Uh oh, goggy!" He would sometimes say other names on demand, but he would say them without initial consonants. Lack of consonants has been Baby's trademark, even up to today.
I saw him again in June 2012. They were stopping at our house before continuing on to California. On that visit, he came up the stairs and saw my cousin Peter and said, "You inky!" Peter said, "No, you're stinky!" That was the first time I heard him say "stinky" as "inky." He would say that over and over to Peter (and the next day he even said it to me). That night he was mad at his mom for something and hissed at her. We were talking about the scars on my knee, and Baby came up and pointed to my "owie"--but I think he was actually pointing to a dry spot that's always there and not the scar from my fall. He kept asking for a haircut, since everyone else was getting haircuts.
Then in August of last year, I was able to go out and visit them. He still said "You inky" all the time. Once he said it during the sacrament at church. We all had to stifle our laughter and be glad that no one else could understand what he was saying.
It took him some time to say my name that trip. Ya-ping told me one day that she heard him saying my name in his sleep. Then a day or so later, he was saying "Uncle Mark" to Peter. Peter asked him why he was saying that to him and not to me. (I don't think he was calling Peter by my name; he was just saying it for some reason.)
When Franklin would have temper tantrums, he would say "Ge-ge not nice!" (Ge-ge is his word for Franklin--it means "older brother." It's pronounced like "guh guh.")
He also liked to pretend to be a dog and bark. Sometimes when he would play dog, I would meow. So then he took up meowing. It was adorable, but unfortunately I don't have any footage of it.
You may also remember my video of him and Franklin playing slides. He liked to do that, and he would say "slide" as "ide." Once he wanted me to slide down him, so he put himself in slide position and said "my ide." (I pretended to slide down him, but I actually didn't have any contact with him at all. Fortunately, that satisfied him.)
We went out again for Christmas 2012. He no longer said "You inky," but he did start counting. On Christmas Eve, I was able to talk to him on the phone before we got there. He started counting and telling me the alphabet. After we got there, we were driving in the car, and he asked for my attention so he could count. He said "seven" more like "sibben," and I think he also said "eleven" like "sibben." If I remember correctly, he would confuse seven and eleven, so once he got to eleven, he would start over again at eight.
The day after Christmas, we were preparing to go pick up my grandparents from the airport. I couldn't decide whether I was going with. But then Baby was talking to me, and I couldn't understand what he was saying. My mom told me he was saying, "Will you sit by me?" So I did go with them after all.
He also learned to say "What about me?" After Preston's confirmation after his baptism, Franklin tried to get in the confirmation chair. We told Franklin he would have to wait a few years. Baby said, "What about me?" There were other times he said this expression, as well.
One day Franklin was having a fit and saying, "I want to play the meat boy game!" So Baby matter-of-factly told us, "Ge-ge want to play the meat boy game"--but with fewer consonants.
If you asked him what his name was, he would say, "Ee-uh." "Is your name Nathaniel?" "No, Ee-uh." "Is your name Baby?" "No, Ee-uh."
In January, I was able to talk to him on the phone. He was initially talking to my mom, and he was talking and talking. She needed to go do other things, so (at my request) she asked him if he wanted to talk to me. He said "yesh" and talked to me. He is hard to understand in person, but he's even harder to understand on the phone. I think the only thing I understood in fifteen or so minutes of talking was "Ah-bay go up" ("Airplane goes up"). For a while, I think he mentioned his "ah-bay" every time he was on the phone; just two or three months ago I heard a message he left on our answering machine that said, "I wanna show you my ah-bay," followed by a sad "they're not home."
As I mentioned earlier, Baby leaves off a lot of consonants, especially at the beginning of words. Even after going to speech classes, he still leaves them off. We were able to visit just this past month, and he still leaves them off. He kept asking for Gatorade and called it "Atorade." Except that he might not have said the t and the d (or the r).
It wasn't until this most recent visit that I realized the way Baby distinguishes his brothers. Franklin is "Ge-ge" and Preston is "Brother," even though he could call either of them by either name. He does know their real names (I asked him), but he doesn't say them most of the time.
On our visit to Kings Canyon National Park, I discovered several interesting things Baby says. We were telling him how he needed to be careful. If we would tell him he was going to fall down, he would say, "I won't!" Once I said to him "Be careful," and he said "I woe!" I thought he was saying "I won't" because he was expecting me to tell him not to fall down. However, I later figured out that "I woe" is his way of saying "I will"--he doesn't have the "ill" sound down. That makes it very confusing. If you say "I won't" naturally, you may notice that you don't really say the n and the t. You nasalize the vowel, and the t is more of a glottal stop. When you factor that in with the fact that Baby has a hard time with consonants anyway, it means that "I won't" and "I will" sound almost exactly the same when he says them.
Sometimes if he was climbing on something and we wanted to help him, he would say, "I know how to get down." He said that often; I would say it was his catch phrase for this visit. Once he said a variation on this--he picked up a piece of granite and said, "I know how to hold it!"
He says "shoes" as "hoo." He still says "stinky" as "inky," but he doesn't go around saying "You inky" all the time.
On the Fourth of July we went to go see some fireworks. We put him in his carseat in the back of the Suburban. He kept saying something, but we couldn't understand it. Then he started crying, which meant we really couldn't understand what he was saying. David eventually figured out he was upset that no one was sitting in the back by him.
When Ya-ping is reproving the boys, she will say their whole names, as in "Preston Melville." Once she said, "Baby Melville." Baby said, "I not Moevoe!" That was one of the things that helped me realize that he says "will" as "woe," since he say the "ville" in Melville as "voe."
That led me to have fun conversations with him. He understands more about his names now than he did in December. He might even say the first consonant in Qi-en now.
"Is your name Nathaniel?" (Nods)
"Is your name Qi-en?" (Nods)
"Is your name Baby?" (Nods)
"Is your name Melville?" (Shakes his head)
At our hotel near Disneyland, we went to the swimming pool. He was shivering the whole time, but when we asked if he wanted to get out, he didn't want to. Sometimes he was shivering so much that he was even harder to understand than usual. I asked him what the names of his family members were, and he was able to tell me all of them--"Wanklin," "Dabid," "A-bing." I can't remember how he said "Preston."
After the Haunted Mansion ride at Disneyland, he said, "I want to do that again!"--even though I think he was a little scared of it, but evidently less scared than Franklin. (He was, however, more scared of Pirates of the Caribbean.)
As with all the other kids, I know I will remember more things that he says after I post this.
The first time I met Baby was in December 2010, but he was less than a year old and he was sick, so he didn't do any talking.
Then I didn't get to see him again for another year. On December 29, 2011, we brought David's family home from the airport and were sitting in our living room. I held out my arms, and we were all pleasantly surprised when Baby came running over to me and let me pick him up and put him on my lap. He started "talking" to me. Only it wasn't really talking. He just went "Wehhhh." It was really cute. He pointed to the decorative ornament lights on the fireplace that changed colors, and went, "Wehhh." Whereas Preston spoke his own language when he was a toddler and it was obvious he knew what he was saying, it seemed to me that Nathaniel was talking just for the sake of talking--he didn't actually know what he was saying. The next day we went to the natural history museum at the U. I held him, and he kept saying "Wehhh" throughout the museum. First he pointed to dinosaur skulls, so I thought he was "talking" about the dinosaurs. But then later he pointed to pictures of Utah archaeology, pictures that weren't particularly interesting, so I don't think he was really trying to say anything.
He did say more than just "wehhh." He incessantly watched a YouTube video with puppets singing an "Uh huh" song, and he would sing along with it:
(When I recorded this, my batteries died before he finished, so I barely missed him singing the whole song.)
He also picked up Allie's name, and he would say "goggy" for "doggy." He overextended "goggy" to refer to our cat, and if he saw the cat, he would say, "Uh oh, goggy!" He would sometimes say other names on demand, but he would say them without initial consonants. Lack of consonants has been Baby's trademark, even up to today.
I saw him again in June 2012. They were stopping at our house before continuing on to California. On that visit, he came up the stairs and saw my cousin Peter and said, "You inky!" Peter said, "No, you're stinky!" That was the first time I heard him say "stinky" as "inky." He would say that over and over to Peter (and the next day he even said it to me). That night he was mad at his mom for something and hissed at her. We were talking about the scars on my knee, and Baby came up and pointed to my "owie"--but I think he was actually pointing to a dry spot that's always there and not the scar from my fall. He kept asking for a haircut, since everyone else was getting haircuts.
Then in August of last year, I was able to go out and visit them. He still said "You inky" all the time. Once he said it during the sacrament at church. We all had to stifle our laughter and be glad that no one else could understand what he was saying.
It took him some time to say my name that trip. Ya-ping told me one day that she heard him saying my name in his sleep. Then a day or so later, he was saying "Uncle Mark" to Peter. Peter asked him why he was saying that to him and not to me. (I don't think he was calling Peter by my name; he was just saying it for some reason.)
When Franklin would have temper tantrums, he would say "Ge-ge not nice!" (Ge-ge is his word for Franklin--it means "older brother." It's pronounced like "guh guh.")
He also liked to pretend to be a dog and bark. Sometimes when he would play dog, I would meow. So then he took up meowing. It was adorable, but unfortunately I don't have any footage of it.
You may also remember my video of him and Franklin playing slides. He liked to do that, and he would say "slide" as "ide." Once he wanted me to slide down him, so he put himself in slide position and said "my ide." (I pretended to slide down him, but I actually didn't have any contact with him at all. Fortunately, that satisfied him.)
We went out again for Christmas 2012. He no longer said "You inky," but he did start counting. On Christmas Eve, I was able to talk to him on the phone before we got there. He started counting and telling me the alphabet. After we got there, we were driving in the car, and he asked for my attention so he could count. He said "seven" more like "sibben," and I think he also said "eleven" like "sibben." If I remember correctly, he would confuse seven and eleven, so once he got to eleven, he would start over again at eight.
The day after Christmas, we were preparing to go pick up my grandparents from the airport. I couldn't decide whether I was going with. But then Baby was talking to me, and I couldn't understand what he was saying. My mom told me he was saying, "Will you sit by me?" So I did go with them after all.
He also learned to say "What about me?" After Preston's confirmation after his baptism, Franklin tried to get in the confirmation chair. We told Franklin he would have to wait a few years. Baby said, "What about me?" There were other times he said this expression, as well.
One day Franklin was having a fit and saying, "I want to play the meat boy game!" So Baby matter-of-factly told us, "Ge-ge want to play the meat boy game"--but with fewer consonants.
If you asked him what his name was, he would say, "Ee-uh." "Is your name Nathaniel?" "No, Ee-uh." "Is your name Baby?" "No, Ee-uh."
In January, I was able to talk to him on the phone. He was initially talking to my mom, and he was talking and talking. She needed to go do other things, so (at my request) she asked him if he wanted to talk to me. He said "yesh" and talked to me. He is hard to understand in person, but he's even harder to understand on the phone. I think the only thing I understood in fifteen or so minutes of talking was "Ah-bay go up" ("Airplane goes up"). For a while, I think he mentioned his "ah-bay" every time he was on the phone; just two or three months ago I heard a message he left on our answering machine that said, "I wanna show you my ah-bay," followed by a sad "they're not home."
As I mentioned earlier, Baby leaves off a lot of consonants, especially at the beginning of words. Even after going to speech classes, he still leaves them off. We were able to visit just this past month, and he still leaves them off. He kept asking for Gatorade and called it "Atorade." Except that he might not have said the t and the d (or the r).
It wasn't until this most recent visit that I realized the way Baby distinguishes his brothers. Franklin is "Ge-ge" and Preston is "Brother," even though he could call either of them by either name. He does know their real names (I asked him), but he doesn't say them most of the time.
On our visit to Kings Canyon National Park, I discovered several interesting things Baby says. We were telling him how he needed to be careful. If we would tell him he was going to fall down, he would say, "I won't!" Once I said to him "Be careful," and he said "I woe!" I thought he was saying "I won't" because he was expecting me to tell him not to fall down. However, I later figured out that "I woe" is his way of saying "I will"--he doesn't have the "ill" sound down. That makes it very confusing. If you say "I won't" naturally, you may notice that you don't really say the n and the t. You nasalize the vowel, and the t is more of a glottal stop. When you factor that in with the fact that Baby has a hard time with consonants anyway, it means that "I won't" and "I will" sound almost exactly the same when he says them.
Sometimes if he was climbing on something and we wanted to help him, he would say, "I know how to get down." He said that often; I would say it was his catch phrase for this visit. Once he said a variation on this--he picked up a piece of granite and said, "I know how to hold it!"
He says "shoes" as "hoo." He still says "stinky" as "inky," but he doesn't go around saying "You inky" all the time.
On the Fourth of July we went to go see some fireworks. We put him in his carseat in the back of the Suburban. He kept saying something, but we couldn't understand it. Then he started crying, which meant we really couldn't understand what he was saying. David eventually figured out he was upset that no one was sitting in the back by him.
When Ya-ping is reproving the boys, she will say their whole names, as in "Preston Melville." Once she said, "Baby Melville." Baby said, "I not Moevoe!" That was one of the things that helped me realize that he says "will" as "woe," since he say the "ville" in Melville as "voe."
That led me to have fun conversations with him. He understands more about his names now than he did in December. He might even say the first consonant in Qi-en now.
"Is your name Nathaniel?" (Nods)
"Is your name Qi-en?" (Nods)
"Is your name Baby?" (Nods)
"Is your name Melville?" (Shakes his head)
At our hotel near Disneyland, we went to the swimming pool. He was shivering the whole time, but when we asked if he wanted to get out, he didn't want to. Sometimes he was shivering so much that he was even harder to understand than usual. I asked him what the names of his family members were, and he was able to tell me all of them--"Wanklin," "Dabid," "A-bing." I can't remember how he said "Preston."
After the Haunted Mansion ride at Disneyland, he said, "I want to do that again!"--even though I think he was a little scared of it, but evidently less scared than Franklin. (He was, however, more scared of Pirates of the Caribbean.)
As with all the other kids, I know I will remember more things that he says after I post this.
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