What are your best sensory memories? What about it is the part that makes the memory special? Was it the company, that time of your life, or other sensations tied to the tastes, smells, or textures?
One of my favorite treats is Jelly Belly jelly beans, at least, the good flavors. I understand this “good” is different for everyone. For me, it’s pear and peach flavor, along with a few others. When I first bite into a pear Jelly Belly, I am taken to Amish Country in Lancaster County, PA.
I was there with my family as a teen. In an indoor market, one of the stalls allowed you to buy Jelly Belly jelly beans by the pound AND by the flavor. Which means you could pay the exorbitant price of Jelly Bellies, but not end up with any of the gross ones (I’m looking at you, popcorn, root beer, and black licorice). I left with a whole bag of the best ones – fruity ones, some tart ones. Just sweet, chewy goodness. And the weight of the bag shifting in my lap in the car as we drove away.
My mom always told me I had a sensitive heart.
As a kid I was full of raw emotions and felt other people’s pain as my own. I cried freely when I saw others hurting and was easily moved.
The movie My Girl came out in 1991. I think I saw it the summer I was 12 or 13 – it was on VHS by then. *smile* I remember settling down in the living room of my grandma’s house to watch it one day with my cousins.
This is me at 13, just before this whole saga began.
Endocrinology and I first got to know each other when I was 13. When I hit puberty, my thyroid went completely nuts. While I ate loads of food, I remained a featherweight and my period started, then stopped. My eyes started to bug a little, a classic sign of hyperthyroidism, and on a visit to my grandma’s house that summer, she realized something was off and suggested my parents take me to the doctor.
This began a really difficult phase of my life.
Where do I start with this kid?
Four was my first rainbow baby, coming after two miscarriages. He was the first kid we had to “try” for. He was born with not one, but TWO nuchal hands.
This is a true middle child, with three older sibs, and three younger ones. He has proven to be a teammate, a friend, and a thoughtful comrade. He was One’s first brother after two sisters.
When I was trying to help him scrape out a condiment bottle one recent afternoon to get the rest, he stopped me. He didn’t want to take it all and leave none for his sister.
He moves seamlessly between the older kids and the younger ones. He learned how to ride a bike at age four with encouragement and help from his older sibs. So far, he’s the only kid who’s taking after the Chaplain and learning to play the piano.
This sweet boy is always “hummy” as he used to say, learning how to read, and endlessly thoughtful and diligent. He wears two hairbands on his wrist because one time in his hip hop class last year, his teacher needed a hairband and didn’t have one, and he wanted to be prepared if that ever happened again. He was wearing hairbands on his wrist for months before I found out the reason behind them. It reminded me of this story.
If you’re wondering what a Saga Boy is, according to the Urban Dictionary, it’s “A guy who likes to dress up nice. ” It’s a Tobagonian turn of phrase. In American English, I’m not aware of any words that describe a guy who is a classy dresser without having any negative implications (I kept coming up with “dandy,” which is definitely NOT Four. “Dapper” didn’t seem quite right, either.) The way my sister-in-law described it when she told me, a saga boy is a guy who always looks nice and dresses well no matter where he’s going. And while Four has his little boy moments with camo and t-shirts with sports slogans, he is the guy who can generally be relied upon to look good when we are going somewhere, with no direction from me. He has a great sense of style. And the true joy he gets from hanging out with his family makes his face shine and completes the look.
These characteristics – his style, his kind heart and professional sibling status, and his bottomless stomach – are unique parts of him that make him such a precious soul. We love him and are privileged to have him in our brood. Happy Birthday, Young Man.
This is Two in the upstairs bathroom, early in its journey. And the seat is up! But, embracing imperfection, I’m keeping this feature photo. The internet needs a little Real Life Living once in a while.
One of the first rooms I wanted to tackle when we moved into our house was the upstairs bathroom. It’s tucked in at the end of a hallway away at the opposite end of the upstairs bedrooms, and we primarily use it only at night. It wasn’t super important that it be functional at the beginning because there were only four of us.
Here’s what it looked like when we did our first walk-through:
