Monday, August 11, 2008

Fine. I Might Have a Quirk or 7: #7

My favorite school board member, Sue, from As Cape Cod Turns has tagged me.  I've never been very good at tag because running is not my thing.  But, after some serious introspection I am going to play.  It also helped that she said I was smart.

So this week, you will learn about 7 hitherto unrevealed facets of me (that sounded smart, right?)


I am not certain of the origin of this reaction to thunder and lightening, but it probably has its genesis (please note the use of that smart word, too) some time around my 9th year.  I had a horrible, miserable, ugly, life-changing school year courtesy of some factors such as a cross-country move for our family and being assigned to the most mean-spirited teacher ever. 

Prior to that year I had always shared a bedroom with one of my sisters.  But in that new house, I had my own room.  And in that room I spent many nights wrestling with nightmares and sleepwalking.  I was certain that someone would break in (but the murderer would only enter the house through my bedroom window.)  During any stormy night, I would watch the windows during the flashes of lightening to see if the murderer was outside my room yet.

Two years later, we moved again and my new best friend taught me a lot about life that I had never known.  Included in those unsolicited lessons were several horror stories - always with the setting of a raging thunderstorm.

Fast-forward a whole lot of years and one particular thunderstorm found me with my fussy newborn who had just settled into sleep while in my arms.  I knew that if I put him down, the crying and crying and crying would resume and I was soooooo tired.  My two-year old son was in the room with us and wanted to see the storm.  He reached from the bed to the window and missed the landing.  I heard a thump and then the 2 year old began to cry.  In one of my finest mothering moments ever, I opted to continue holding the sleeping baby while telling my toddler he was okay.  When the lightening flashed next, I saw my toddler 's face covered in blood which was freely flowing from the newly carved gash in his head which he received when his face hit the window sill during his fall.

So there you have my first quirk.  I think my "discomfort" with thunderstorms is perfectly normal, thank-you!


Pleasing Procrasinator said...

I love a good thunderstorm!!
I had to laugh because telling the child they are fine sounded like something I would do.

Wonderful World of Weiners said...

How clever that you are stretching this tag out over a full week!

Why didn't I think of that?

Hallie :)

Mental P Mama said...

Okay, I'll allow this. The blood and all got to me. But I like them...

Big Hair Envy said...

We like to sit on the covered porch during a good thunderstorm! That's just how we hillbillies roll:)

I am impressed with your "smart word" usage. And on a Monday, no less!

Anonymous said...

Oh wow... yeah, I get it. BTW - I had that same "Murderer coming in through MY window fear". Half of me still has it. Haha.

Laura ~Peach~ said...

I love storms... I sit on my porch and watch and ohhh and awww and laugh at squirt as she cowers below my legs ... she hates thunder... I do believe I would have done something very simular to cory if I had just gotten Martha to sleep... I am just a bad mom like that LOL.
HUGS Laura

LadiesoftheHouse said...

I share your quirk. We are quirk sisters.

Did you know the thunder in Europe is something like 10 trillion times louder than in the U.S.? One thunder boom I remember in particular set off every car alarm for 2 city blocks in my husband's relative's house. I am seldom terrified to where I cannot move, but I was glued to the couch with my mouth open in an attractive, large O and my body frozen stiff with fright.

Mrs4444 said...

How horrific! Too bad; we love a good thunderstorm!