In the 1970s and 80s, it was perfectly normal to walk home from school. The elementary school that I attended was only a few minutes away from home and my parents didn't have to think twice about letting me walk. When we were kids, we frequently walked or biked to get anywhere. These days, things have changed. On a particularly windy day in Ohio where I grew up, I was walking home from school and right before the house where I lived was a big road that I had to cross. My parents had taught me to look both ways before crossing and I took their suggestion to heart. Of course, I didn't want to be road kill, so that day I made sure that the cars went by before walking across the street. I started across just as a van went past me and as I ran across the road with my hands outstretched, the first two fingers on my right hand hit the back of the van. I looked down to make sure they were still there and immediately started laughing in relief and felt invincible. I ran into the house and found my mom cleaning out the cabinet underneath the sink. I showed her my fingers and told her what happened thinking she would be astounded and laugh along with me. She was astounded alright....and then her eyes started to cross. Her face got red and she looked like she was about to hyperventilate. I watched this transformation in my mother wondering if she was having a heart attack. Then she let me have it. I got a tongue-lashing I certainly wasn't expecting. I thought, "Take a chill, Mom!" I knew better than to actually say that, so I said instead, "Look, Mom! My fingers are fine! I'm okay!" She grabbed my fingers and started screaming at me incoherently all the while I'm looking at her like she has lost her mind. I left her to her ranting and raving totally confused by her behavior. I didn't understand her reaction for years after that. Not until I had my own kids. As my eyes cross, my face gets red, and I start screaming incoherently at my own sons for something they did that was extremely dangerous, I realize that finally I understand my mother a lot better now.
They instructed me to make sure I have a full bladder on arriving for my ultrasound. Ha. I almost laughed in their faces. Pregnant me plus a full bladder equals a disaster. On my son's birthday back in March, I had to drive all the kids home afterward. I had drunk a lot of water and couldn't believe I had forgotten what happens to me when I drink too much water with no bathroom nearby when I'm pregnant. I counted the minutes till I got home all the while breaking the law and speeding trying to keep in mind not to drive too recklessly screaming at the poky people in front of me. It brought to mind the very first time I experienced a full bladder as a pregnant woman. It was my first baby and my husband was in the Air Force. So, when we had an ultrasound we went to the Academy in Colorado Springs. They told me to drink an astronomical amount of water before I came. I did so and then we started out for the half hour drive to the hospital. By the time we were on the
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