My sister always titles her posts with a quote. I really like that idea, though, I'm not going to use it often because I have such a schedule on my blog, what with all the Memes I do and such. However, I've been a total slacker with my blog- since over 2 weeks ago (or something like that) I promised I was back and would be doing regular posts from then on. And I haven't done a thing so far, and since I'm just obviously not back into the swing of things yet, I decided to go ahead with this one without making any further promises.
Mainly, I've really been ignoring the nagging feeling of "I should blog" that lingers constantly at the back of my mind. Unfortunately, due to Brandon getting an XBox and Rock Band for his birthday, coupled with our adorable, well behaved and very sweet yet time consuming new black lab puppy, Molly (named after Flogging Molly) I have found other things to do with my time.
Now, now, don't be offended. I love blogging, and I love my readers and I have not forgotten you and my adoration for you has not diminished in the slightest. I just have a very short attention span.
Lucky for us all, my attention span has a way of going in circles, and I usually work my way back to the things my brain has abandoned.
So, I really really like my family. We're very close, and we have a lot of fun. Also, there is no end at all to the fountain of things we don't know about each other- even though we know each other very well. Every time we get together, we break out the stories. The stories of our childhoods. Our scout/young women camps. Our school days. Our naughty happenings of youth. A lot of times, there are stories we already know well and are simply retelling because they're wonderful and hilarious. Other times, we're retelling them because a friend is over, or a sibling is dating someone new.
And just as often, we break news to our parents to let them know that we were not, in fact, perfect angels like they had thought (~wink~), and now that they are unable to ground us, it's safe to let the cat out of the bag. As always, hilarity ensues.
Yesterday, we went to Snowbird- a ski and summer resort where my family spends a week every year, though since our room is fairly small and our family is literally multiplying- my husband, children and I spent only one day there, though not the night. It was really a lot of fun- we panned for gems with pans and dirt and water, and the kids made pretty good finds, and we ate ice cream, and hiked to the 'lookout' and saw a moose and her baby.
After our kids fell asleep in various and strange positions in odd places throughout the room, we spent the next few hours playing Mad Gab and telling our stories.
And it got me thinking about all the things I've done and said, the good, the funny, and the things that I regret.
So here it goes: A list of my regrets.
1. In Kindergarten, when my mom was driving some of the neighborhood kids and I to school, I asked her why she always wore makeup. I don't remember what her answer was, but when she finished answering, I told her that it made her look nasty. I never saw her wear blue eyeshadow again.
2. In first grade, a friend of mine, Elisha, who was Native American, and gorgeous, was being called a "chocolate person" by two boys in our class. I could tell it was making her feel bad, and my mom had told me that if people were making fun of me, then i should just think in my head "They're booger butts" so I could laugh and not worry about it. So I told this to my friend, and promptly got chastised by my teacher as the two boys, who were being racist, told on me for calling them names. Can we say hypocrites? I didn't say anything. And I regret it. I should have.
3. I don't remember how old I was, but I believe it was in here somewhere, that my parents let me go to Arizona and spend some time with my grandma (Mammy) and my uncle, Cory, who is only 3 years older than I was. I believe it was 2 weeks, and I had been able to buy my own suitcase, which was really just a little red thing with "stamps" from places all over it. My parents met me there later with the plan to take Cory home with us for awhile. They brought him a suitcase too.
It was beautiful to me. It was blue, which was my favorite color, and it had care bears and rainbows on it. And I thought it should be mine. My parents insisted that I should just give it to Cory, and Mammy insisted that we flip a coin. We flipped, I won, and Cory got up and skipped away down the hall, where he cried, Mammy consoled him, and we traded suitcases. He got the red one and I got the blue one.
I should have let him have the blue one. It was meant for him.
4. When I was 7, there was a boy named Scott McCallister in my class. He was quiet, and dirty, and he smelled of cat pee and cigarette smoke. He lived with his elderly grandmother and had no parents to speak of. None of us really liked him very much, though I don't really know why, because he was a perfectly nice kid, and likely really really needed friends. I knew it then, and I know it now. And the thought makes me really want to cry.
One day, during story time, Scott touched me while we were sitting there listening, and...well, have you ever had that feeling after you touch someone or something, like it's still there? You can feel it on your skin and it kind of stings? well, I felt that way, and in a panic, and a hurry to make it go away, I touched the person next to me and whispered "Scott's germs". Unfortunately, it caught on, and was passed around the room, and the joke stuck and continued (with various other unfortunate kids as victims) throughout the entire rest of elementary school.
This was awful, awful, awful of me, and as a result, I regularly remind (read: lecture) my children on making EVERYONE feel welcome and that EVERYONE needs friends and that I had better not EVER hear of them treating someone badly or leaving them out.
4. When I was 8, I went to a friends house to play. Her sister wouldn't let me play with a particularly intriguing stuffed bear she had. I don't remember what the heck it did or even what it looked like, but I got mad and left without saying goodbye.
That was petty. And if I were my mom, I would have punished me.
5. In 3rd grade, a boy wrote me a letter that said he loved me. I was, of course, very dramatic, as any 8 year old is, and with the help of 2 of my friends, I decided to just ask him outright if it were true. So, being, of course, very brash, as any 8 year old is, I asked him- in front of about 50 other students who were watching a show and tell with a dog named Bandit that was wearing a red handkerchief on it's neck, who could do some amazing tricks.
Thaaaaat was just dumb. And I deserved it when, for the next 3 years, two girls I didn't even know quoted "Matt, is it true you love me?" every time they saw me.
6. In 5th grade, I made my brother walk home with me instead of call my mom when he complained of a hurt toe because I thought he was being a baby. It turns out his toe was actually broken, and he had to have surgeries and everything on it for years to come.
I wonder, occasionally, if it was my fault- if his foot would have been okay had I just let him call my mom.
7. In 7th grade, our school did some sort of fundraiser. I don't remember what it was for, but I didn't donate any money. At the end of it, our home room teacher brought doughnuts and gave one to everyone who had donated at least 2 dollars. I lied. I raised my hand. And she gave me a doughnut.
Later that day, feeling awful about my lie, I put 10 dollars in her desk drawer when she wasn't looking.
8. Speaking of Snowbird- the summer I was 16, I met a boy named Ben at the teen swim. He was so adorable. He had deep auburn red hair, brown eyes, ruddy cheeks- he was tall, and all muscly, and he really really liked me. He was also 15, the son of a bishop, and I was all ready to start dating boys (those who don't know: Mormon's don't date until we're 16, so in addition to 16 being great because we can drive, it's awesome because we can date.) So, at the end of the week, when he tried to have the DTR talk with me, and implied that he wanted to kiss me, I blew him off. I totally regret that, because, while I'm sure nothing would have come of it, and while I LOVE my life and do not regret THIS, I should have kissed him. Experience points. And he was stinking adorable.
9. When I was pregnant with Mahone, I went visiting teaching with my partner, who was also a really really great friend of mine, and the whole way there, I talked about how I hate bibs and wouldn't be using any because they just cover the outfit, and get gooey. It turned out that our visiting teaching excursion wasn't that at all, but a surprise baby shower. I felt terrible because I actually received over 30 bibs from that shower. I am pretty sure that only my dear friend knew my disdain for bibs- she isn't the gossipy type...but I still felt like a douche.
So there you have it. A whole bunch of my terrible downfalls out there for all to see. I'm sure there are more. If I remember any, I will be sure to do another instalment to come in the distant future.
Anyone wanna share some of your own regrets????