Bluebirds, Swimming, and Roman Numerals…
T I M E T R A V E L T U E S D A Y O N W E D N E S D A Y
For those of you keeping track, I neglected to write a post yesterday. I was sooo tired! So here I am again, off of my schedule by one day. I know John Phillips will have a good laugh at this.
Today, I thought I’d look back at a few of the “traumas” that I suffered along the bumpy road of my youth. Let’s have a look, shall we…
The “Frosty The Snowman” incident
What do Madonna, Shirley Temple and Gladys Knight have in common with me? If you guessed that we were all “Bluebirds,” you guessed right! For some reason my mother signed me up to be a “Bluebird” when I was in elementary school. What’s a Bluebird you ask? They are the youngest members of the Camp Fire Girls, a sister organization to the Boy Scouts of America. The program, at that time, emphasized camping and other outdoor activities for girls.
I only remember two episodes from my time as a Bluebird; walking in a parade with my other fellow bluebirds, waving a small American flag (I have pictures that document this occasion — probably the only reason I “remember” it.) and performing in a Christmas program, where I attempted to sing, “Frosty the Snowman.”
Let’s just say that “Frosty the Snowman” is no “Jingle Bells.” It’s actually quite a long and complex story of a snowman who tragically melts in the hot sun. Basically the trauma occurred because no one bothered to teach me the words to this song. *For those of you who are new moms, here’s a hot tip, never assume your children know the lyrics to important holiday songs. I knew the tune, the first several lines and the chorus, but that’s it.
When it came time to “perform” I had to think quick as the music continued but the words fell away. It was like falling off a cliff. I did the only thing a 6 year old could do, I went into humming mode. This made all of the adults laugh. I was embarrassed and yes, traumatized. At the ripe age of 6, you don’t have any context for that sort of laughter. I felt dumb. : (
I believe that was the last year of my Bluebird career.
The YMCA incident…
Learning to swim can be very scary depending on the method employed. Around the same age that I was donning my Bluebird uniform my parents signed me up for swimming lessons at the YMCA.
I remember my dad driving me, one Saturday morning, to a place neither one of us had ever been before. Once inside, I was told to walk through the women’s locker room (Yeah, I know, that’s a trauma for another day, another post — no child should have to see sagging breasts, wrinkled buttocks, etc. The horror!) and the pool would be on the other side. Once I got to the pool area I was herded into a group of kids that seemed quite a bit older than me.
The instructor jumped in the pool and told everyone else to do the same. Um, EX-CUSE ME? My heart started pounding, I looked around for my dad. Where was he? There seemed to be some kind of mistake, I DON’T KNOW HOW TO SWIM. I was petrified. And then the tears started rolling down the sides of my face. Please someone, get me out of here! I don’t remember what happened after that, as I have a tendency to block things. I do remember driving home in the car with my dad who I think tried to be comforting, though this was not his forte. : (
** It should be said that I would eventually become a world class swimmer. That’s right. There is no place I’d rather be than in some body of water, whether it be a pool, the ocean, a lake or a bathtub.
I was in the third grade, which means I was around 7 or 8 years old, when our school district thought it might be a good idea to introduce Roman Numerals into our curriculum.
For those of you who don’t know, I’m dyslexic. I see letters and numbers backward. I struggle with finding the right words in my mixed up file cabinet of a brain. I often have to read sentences more than once to make sure I understand the context. Spelling and punctuation are always a challenge. I’m slow to process. Once past these obstacles, though, I’m actually pretty smart. (I’ve taught myself lots of tricks along the way.)
Suffice it to say, that in the third grade I had no tricks. I was called to the board to complete an addition problem using Roman Numerals – meaning I was supposed to do something with a bunch of X’s, I’s, L’s, V’s and C’s. What the heck? My teacher, Mrs. Brown, might as well have asked me to recite “The Star Spangled Banner” in Hebrew.
I stood up at the board with the other children. One by one they sat down, having completed the task. Total trauma. I just stood there and felt dizzy. I could hear the teacher yelling at me but her voice was somehow fading, as if she was in a tunnel. The next thing I knew I was opening my eyes, looking up at people staring down at me. I was flat on my back on the cold classroom linoleum. : (
**It should be said that my math skills never improved. Numbers are not my friends, not even 9, the magic number, or is that 3? If only Jack Black had been my teacher, I would have been so much better off.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aa8U0nL-KXg
My biggest childhood trauma involves a picture of me as a very small child in a god-awful brown turtleneck and plaid pants (it was the early seventies).
On another note, Go you for overcoming dyslexia, and your well crafted posts. I’ve always placed extra weight on books recommended by dyslexic friends, because when they put in the extra effort to read it, I know it’s going to be good.
That’s kind. Thanks, Guapo. I read everyone’s posts 2 or 3 times to make sure I understand them.
I sympathize with your trauma, the brown turtleneck and plaid pants picture was probably pretty bad — probably worthy of a time capsule?
Only if the capsule is a soon to be detonated nuclear bomb!
hahahaha!
Oh, and can you and John get calendar widgets or something please?!? Sheesh.
Haha! I seriously couldn’t manufacture the energy to write a post yesterday and I knew I’d regret it today. Now it’s just an inside joke between the three of us.
I was a blue bird and a camp fire girl for a while 🙂 I remember my counselor’s feet were not ticklish. hmmmmm. It’s amazing how kids can be traumatized by things and adults are pretty clueless. Sorry to laugh at your trauma, but you had me rolling!! Great stuff. What would we write about if not for the traumas of our lives??? Angie 🙂
I’m actually glad you got a good laugh. I sometimes think the memories fall into no man’s land, like they’re partially funny and partially disturbing and as a result the whole thing ends up being uncomfortable.
I guess we all have these little traumas in common, it’s what makes us so painfully human. : )
Thanks for your kind comments! We seem to have many things in common.
OMG Lisa! I laughed so hard at this I got tears in my eyes. It’s so funny and hilarious and relatable. I too was in Bluebirds for some strange reason. I don’t remember much about it either except that it was held at this one girls house after school and I had to drop out because I was too hungry after school and they only gave us 2 cookies to eat! LOL. And the humming!!!!! hahahahahaha! Oh if only they would have had video recording back then! And what? Passing out from having to add Roman Numerals!!! It just gets funnier and funnier! I would have probably done the same thing and I’m not even dyslexic! What a mean clueless teacher. It boggles the mind. 5 Stars and and A+ Lisa! I can’t even describe how much I enjoyed this post! I’m going to be laughing all day! 😀
Oh and swimming part! I just remembered that part! Hilarious! I too absolutely love to swim. And seeing all the ladies. It’s a wonder you didn’t have nighmares! LOL
Oh, I’m so glad that my traumas are finally paying off! Lol! The fact that you were a Bluebird only secures our bond. Two cookies, huh? That would’ve been reason enough for me to quit, too. haha!
Obviously there’s an entire chapter to be written on the horrors of the locker room, from a child’s perspective. I had no context for what I was seeing other than a National Geographic Magazine! So disturbing…. Hahha!
Thanks, Linda. 5 stars and an A+ coming from you means a lot! : )
Hi,
What an experience you had, I think it was very smart of you to start humming, I would of given you a gold star for that one. 😀
I remember well the horrors in those dressing rooms at the pools, just unreal, my first memory of this was walking very fast and going straight into the toilet and closing the door. 🙂
haha! Who knew the dressing room could be such a fright. No child could be prepared, or should ever have to witness the underbelly (literally) of the human form! You did the right thing, the only thing, walking fast into the toilet probably spared you permanent psychological damage! lol!
Yep, I am a graduate of the “Free Learn to Swim Program” given by the YMCA. All I remember is how huge the pool looked to me and the chlorine! Good gosh almighty there was so much chlorine my eyes burned and were red for a week after swimming.
The trauma that comes to my mind was when I was five and my mom told my uncle that I had learned all the books of the Bible in order. That would have been okay, except my uncle was the pastor of the church we went to. So, that Sunday morning, he announced that I could say all the books of the Bible in order and then told me to come up front and say them. Holy Cow! I was petrified! Somehow I made it up front and just stood there with sweat dripping from hands. My uncle said, “What’s wrong, Danny?” I said, “I forgot the first one.” Everybody laughed. My uncles said, “Genesis.” With that help, the rest of the books poured out of me in a rapid stream. I almost passed out because I didn’t take a breath. When I was done, I ran to my mother’s arms. I will love her forever, but never forgive her for telling my uncle that I knew all the books of the Bible-in order! HF
Oh, that’s a great story. At five years old… that would have put me into paralysis! Good for you for getting it done! Aww..I bet your mom was so proud of you. Didn’t Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn have to do something similar? Performing or reciting of any kind was never my thing.
Haha! Seems you remember the YMCA swim program almost as fondly as I do!
I left an amazing comment here an hour ago about cookies and Roman Numerals and Super Bowls and deep dark confessions. Actually no deep dark confessions. You’re so adept at figuring out them already I’m sure.
Either way, I never would sing in school when we had to. I was a tall kid so I was in the back row, usually in the corner. Nobody would notice my humming or lip synching. I always was fearful that everyone else in the class would have the same idea as me. Like that one time in college when we were supposed to go on a class trip to the food bank at 7 in the morning and somehow everyone in the class got lost on the way there. Oops!
I did my fair share of lip synching, too. I think as you get older it becomes apparent which kids have the real talent and which kids are just faking it.
I hate when a comment gets lost, especially a well thought out one. It’s always the long ones that get erased.
Where do i find that widget. I’m up to date I think. OK, finished laughing now. time to comment. Roman numerals. Hated them as well, very confusing, but, for some reason I still remember them and can usually read them. Doing math with, why would we ven need to know how to do that. It’s not like there is a huge market for Roman Numeral astrophysicists.
Roman numerals! Haha! I guess I can read them at this point. The idea that third graders should be taught to do math equations with them is idiotic. My teacher was so mean and made us feel like if we didn’t learn this, then we would fail in life. Ha!
Speaking of Roman numerals… how the heck is a widget going to help me stay on my schedule? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I can barely do a “link” properly. I’m lucky if I can navigate around enough to publish a post! I had to get Lily to set everything up for me. haha!
I just like saying widget, a great word.
Sounds like something from “Lord of the Rings.”
Oh I was a Girl Scout and never liked it. all the rich, pretty girls got all the good badges and I was left with the dorky ones..
most embarrassing thing was when I was in the 6th grade and was trying to impress the neighborhood heartthrob.. I stood up on my seat (bent down to steer) my bike..well I whizzed past him a few on my street then hit the ditch and did a face plant in mud.. Needless to say I was mortified and never did look him in the eye after that.. ever..
this was a great post!!!
OUCH!!! OMG! That was so unnecessary, wasn’t it? And the moral of the story is what? Don’t try to impress your crush by doing something you’ve never done before, like circus tricks? Haha! Did he come over to see if you were okay? I have a similar story but I think I’ll save it for more of my confessions and childhood traumas. It just goes to show how similar we all our in our experiences, in this thing we call life…
Thanks for dropping by!!
Great post, Lisa… what touched me most was the traumatic feeling a child can get from a simple experience and how deeply that affects us throughout life. I was about 7 or 8, and because I liked a boy, I walked home with him after school (I think he asked me to). We spent some time eating cookies, or something. But, when it was time to go home, I stepped outside to walk home and realized I had no idea where I was. I have no idea how I got home, but I’ll never forget that feeling, weak knees and all!!!
And Roman Numeral math – that’s just cruel!!!
🙂
janet
Aww… your story is so sweet and vulnerable, Janet. Those are the kinds of things that we remember. It’s scary being a kid and I think sometimes adults forget that.
Yeah, causing a child to lock up and faint over math with Roman Numerals… so mean.
Ugghhh childhood traumas are so…traumatic! I had a similar swimming pool thing when I went to a different public pool with William Schlager and they just told us to jump in. But I did it and they had to save me. Unless it was a dream. But I’m pretty sure it happened?
Math with Roman Numerials seems impossible especially for 3rd graders. Poor mommy.
By the way, I was going to do a post on being a Brownie! But now I’ll have to wait a little bit as not to over shadow your Bluebird story!
I know, adults are so mean and have no idea the trauma they cause. You should do the Brownie story, I’m sure it will be better than mine, anyway. I think the pool story you’re thinking of did happen. At least I remember you going with William to his pool. I remember somethingbtraumatic happened because his mom came over and apologized.
The Roman Numeral story is so wrong. At least everyone had some good laughs at my traumas! Haha!
You’ve stolen my memoirs! ;P
Please don’t tell me you were a Bluebird. I’ll be scared.
*whistling innocently*