For years I wanted a baby sister, I'd say at least five years but closer to eight. I was a little over two years old when the first of my three baby brothers was born. Much too young to realize the "joys" of a little brother. He was quiet and didn't cramp my style. Yes, I had style at the age two.
By the time my parents were expecting their third bundle of joy, I had realized the "joys" of having a little brother. Having shared a room with him for nearly three years, hibernating bears don't snore as loud as him, I was ready for a change. I placed my order for a sister. Six months later, Paul arrived. Apparently you can't place orders. It was a short nine months later that mom was pregnant again (she swore until her dying day that she didn't know how it happened. Please Mom, you had five kids, it happened the same way it happened with the other four). This time I didn't place an order. I just informed them that if it was another boy, don't bother coming home with it.
Fortunately for my parents, they were able to bring my sister home. She was born on my dad's birthday, I was no longer daddy's little girl. We were all named after someone. My named is Lynda Jean because every baby doll was named Lynda and the Jean was to keep my dad happy (his name is Eugene and mom wasn't fond of it. Since he'd never have a son with his name, I was saddled with it). James Barlow was named after my mom's brother who passed away at age of 17 days. Paul Benjamin was named after my father's cousin Paul (sorry Cathy, it really wasn't Paul McCartney) and my maternal grandfather. My dad gave my sister the name of Lenora Arlene. Lenora after my mother (she wasn't happy about it but when under the influence of heavy duty drugs she really had no choice) and Arlene after her cousin. Now the youngest of this growing family is David Andrew. Now, I'm not sure where David came from (I have always suspected a long lost beau of mom's) but Andrew was my dad's favorite uncle's name.
Well, got myself off track there a bit, this is the story of the little drama queen after all. It was at a very young age that Lenora began to exhibit her flare for the dramatic. When, at the age of two, she did not get her own way, she throw herself, back toward the sofa and arm over her forehead, lower lip quivering and crying "why?" that had just a touch of whine in it.
During Lenora's first year of school, she had my mother really snowed. She was out of school more than in. It finally took the truancy officer and his visit to our house to convince Lenora into going to school. He told her that if she didn't beginning attending school, he would have her mother arrested. The look on her face was a true Kodak moment and the next morning began attending.
Of course, there are those times in a child's life when she truly is sick. Our generation was blessed with the very best in childhood diseases that today's generation is missing out on. Measles, mumps, chicken pox, and so on. And of course we had the flu. Now it was standard in our home for the one(s) that was sick to camp out in the parlor. On the sofa with lots of pillows, blankets, your favorite sick cup, box of tissues, a brown paper shopping bag for the mountains of tissues and last but not least, the bucket. Let me begin by stating that Lenora was not one to suffer in silence. Oh, we were not blessed, she always made it know that she was sick. Aside from the moaning and groaning, she would call out to mom "Can kids die from this"? After a fashion, mom got tired of hearing it and would yell back "Yes they can if they keep driving their mommies crazy enough"!
It was about this time that my dad's best friend (and our future stepfather, which is a whole blog unto itself) gave her the nickname Sarah, after the silent film star, Sarah Bernhardt. Lenora would have put her to shame. On occasion, I would treat Lenora to a trip to our local plaza with one of my friends. By this time I was a young teen and she got a thrill hanging out with the big girls. In the neighborhood where I grew up, the nearest place was about a mile walk where the local record store was located. In order to actually get to the plaza, we would have to cross a busy four lane street. I would take one hand, my friend the other. As the light turned green, we would make our way across the street...Lenora yelling from the moment her foot stepped off the curb "We're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die" and once her foot stepped up on the opposite curb, "See, I told you we'd be fine".
By the time my parents were expecting their third bundle of joy, I had realized the "joys" of having a little brother. Having shared a room with him for nearly three years, hibernating bears don't snore as loud as him, I was ready for a change. I placed my order for a sister. Six months later, Paul arrived. Apparently you can't place orders. It was a short nine months later that mom was pregnant again (she swore until her dying day that she didn't know how it happened. Please Mom, you had five kids, it happened the same way it happened with the other four). This time I didn't place an order. I just informed them that if it was another boy, don't bother coming home with it.
Fortunately for my parents, they were able to bring my sister home. She was born on my dad's birthday, I was no longer daddy's little girl. We were all named after someone. My named is Lynda Jean because every baby doll was named Lynda and the Jean was to keep my dad happy (his name is Eugene and mom wasn't fond of it. Since he'd never have a son with his name, I was saddled with it). James Barlow was named after my mom's brother who passed away at age of 17 days. Paul Benjamin was named after my father's cousin Paul (sorry Cathy, it really wasn't Paul McCartney) and my maternal grandfather. My dad gave my sister the name of Lenora Arlene. Lenora after my mother (she wasn't happy about it but when under the influence of heavy duty drugs she really had no choice) and Arlene after her cousin. Now the youngest of this growing family is David Andrew. Now, I'm not sure where David came from (I have always suspected a long lost beau of mom's) but Andrew was my dad's favorite uncle's name.
Well, got myself off track there a bit, this is the story of the little drama queen after all. It was at a very young age that Lenora began to exhibit her flare for the dramatic. When, at the age of two, she did not get her own way, she throw herself, back toward the sofa and arm over her forehead, lower lip quivering and crying "why?" that had just a touch of whine in it.
During Lenora's first year of school, she had my mother really snowed. She was out of school more than in. It finally took the truancy officer and his visit to our house to convince Lenora into going to school. He told her that if she didn't beginning attending school, he would have her mother arrested. The look on her face was a true Kodak moment and the next morning began attending.
Of course, there are those times in a child's life when she truly is sick. Our generation was blessed with the very best in childhood diseases that today's generation is missing out on. Measles, mumps, chicken pox, and so on. And of course we had the flu. Now it was standard in our home for the one(s) that was sick to camp out in the parlor. On the sofa with lots of pillows, blankets, your favorite sick cup, box of tissues, a brown paper shopping bag for the mountains of tissues and last but not least, the bucket. Let me begin by stating that Lenora was not one to suffer in silence. Oh, we were not blessed, she always made it know that she was sick. Aside from the moaning and groaning, she would call out to mom "Can kids die from this"? After a fashion, mom got tired of hearing it and would yell back "Yes they can if they keep driving their mommies crazy enough"!
It was about this time that my dad's best friend (and our future stepfather, which is a whole blog unto itself) gave her the nickname Sarah, after the silent film star, Sarah Bernhardt. Lenora would have put her to shame. On occasion, I would treat Lenora to a trip to our local plaza with one of my friends. By this time I was a young teen and she got a thrill hanging out with the big girls. In the neighborhood where I grew up, the nearest place was about a mile walk where the local record store was located. In order to actually get to the plaza, we would have to cross a busy four lane street. I would take one hand, my friend the other. As the light turned green, we would make our way across the street...Lenora yelling from the moment her foot stepped off the curb "We're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die" and once her foot stepped up on the opposite curb, "See, I told you we'd be fine".
In my favorite Disney movie, Sleeping Beauty, each faerie gives Princess Aurora a gift. When I had asked Lenora to be our daughter's godmother, I had no idea that the gift she would be given would be to become our own Little Drama Queen. It was during Laura's second bout of scarlet fever when she was five, she lay on the sofa in the parlor with her box of tissues and bucket, she cried out "God, what have I done to make You punish me like this"? Isn't it wonderful, the torch has been passed.
In loving memory. Thank you for all the love you passed this way.
In loving memory. Thank you for all the love you passed this way.
2 comments:
haha i do the street thing too! oh nornie!!!!!!!!!!!! ily mommy!!!
Yay... I got through one of your blogs without crying, in fact quite a few smiles along the way. nice one.
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