Adventure

Here is another 8 minute memoir! I skipped day 3, because it didn't really invoke anything worth adding to the internet. But here's hoping Day 4 is something to write about.

Adventure

Andrew and I have spent several hours over the course of the past 6 months or so talking about adventure: what it is, and what it isn't, what we'd like it to be, what amount is the ideal to strive for in life, if we are succeeding or failing at it, and how to add more of it into our lives. I think by nature I would say I am not an adventurous person, and if left to my own devices I would probably have never embarked on anything that was remotely uncomfortable for me. Thankfully I have amazing parents who have encouraged me from a very early age to step out of my comfort zone and away from what we have affectionately come to call, "The Mary Rule Book."

My earliest memory of my parents helping to step outside of my comfort zone is from the first grade. I was a total perfectionist and would come home crying if I had missed any words on my spelling test. Recognizing an opportunity to help me see a bigger picture, my parents kindly told me that it was good to make mistakes! Mistakes are how you learn! They show that you are human! Being human is awesome! To give power to their claims they began to pay me a nickel for every mistake that I made. This continued through high school. In my AP calculus class I had an opportunity to do some extra credit, but took the weekend off to spend with my bestie who had moved to another  town instead. I was confident in my decision to choose a person over a grade, and had a blast that weekend. It turned out that that assignment would have been all I needed to bring my grade up from the B to an A, but I wore the B with pride! My parents were thrilled, and I think I got paid more that $0.05 for the imperfect grades, but it didn't matter. The lesson they wanted me to learn was absorbed.

These small steps away from my perfectionism have saved my sanity and my life. My parents continued to encourage me to step out of my comfort zone to do all kinds of things, both big and small: go to dances, throw parties, do a study abroad, and ultimately, find a healthy balance in my life. These things may not seem like adventures, but to me, adventure means taking a chance, stepping outside of myself and the "Mary Rule Book," and enjoying my humanity.

I Don't Remember

Day 2: I don't remember- another 8 minute memoir. Find the prompt here.

I don't remember what it was like to breastfeed, even though it was only 4 months ago that I stopped. It seems ridiculous to me that I could forget something that I did everyday, at least 5 times a day, for an entire year. I don't remember what it was like to hold Luke before he could wriggle and squirm and push away. I don't remember when he switched from 4 naps a day to 3, or from 3 to 2. I don't remember all the movies and shows we watched in the hospital while waiting for him to join our family.

On the other hand, I do remember not being able to sleep because I was so worried about Luke, and anxious for his arrival. I do remember wanting to hold him forever. I do remember his first smiles, his first laughs, and the first time he crawled on his hands and knees. I remember how wonderful it felt when he first slept through the night. I remember his first bath, and his first shots. I remember how it felt when they first laid him on my chest. I remember watching Andrew hold him for the first time, with amazement and love in his eyes.

People always told me that the reason you have more than just one kid is because you forget all the hard stuff. Four months into the journey of parenthood I didn't believe it. But then I have already forgotten. Too quickly. It is crazy to me that the things that were so hard and so all encompassing can be so easily erased from my mind. It makes me want to hold on a little tighter, and a little longer, to today. And make a little more effort to keep a record so that I don't have to say, "I don't remember."

I Remember When

I really want to get back into writing. It is something that I have always loved but I have kind of fallen out of the habit/practice since life happened. Luckily I found out about an 8 minute memoir project floating around on the web and on one of my favorite teacher blogs, The Life of Bon. Anyway , it is pretty straight forward. There is a topic/prompt given, and you write about that prompt for 8 minutes. You just write what comes to your mind.

Well, here goes! #1- I Remember When

I remember when we used to have picnics in the living room with one giant bowl of taco salad and 6 forks. The quilt spread out across in front of the tv we would crowd around and eat until the food was gone. Or sometimes it would be pizza. But never any drink other than water. If we spilled a sugary drink on the carpet it was certain death.

I remember long summer nights playing night games with the neighborhood kids. Running through the unfenced backyards bounding from trampoline to trampoline.

I remember the Sunday afternoons spent finding creative ways to entertain ourselves. There is only so much Joseph and the Amazing Technicolored Dream Coat a family can take before looking elsewhere for entertainment. One Sunday after we had already found that we could climb the door frames, we decided to measure and compare the capacity of each person's belly button to hold water. For anyone who knows my family it should come as no surprise that the winner was my dad, by a landslide. A later surgery would dramatically decrease his belly button capacity, so I've heard.

I remember one night when I was a junior in high school my parents had company over. My dad's good friend James had brought his new finance over to meet the family. When she was introduced to me she said, "Wow, you look exactly like your dad! Just like him!" You can imagine my dismay, as a 16 year old girl, to be told I looked exactly like my balding-greyhaired-bearded-overweight-father. As much as I love him. It is now a great running joke that we have though, and has provided countless laughs.

Mom and my Twin