Week 3 Blog 1

One of my first memories is of my brother biting me. He opened his mouth and bit me on my back. Hard. I wasn't a meaty child. I was the definition of waif. My ribs stuck out despite the fact that at least a teaspoon of butter went on each helping of steamed veggies in our house. I didn't break 40 pounds until the first grade. That being said, he found his mark and bit hard with his new teeth. He was angry because he thought I was getting more grapes than he was. I wasn't. He'd actually eaten so much that he later vomited barely chewed pieces of green grapes. He did not use his teeth for their intended purpose. He used them to bite me.

I remember the bite. I remember the puke. But that's where the actual memory ends. What I remember after that is there because my mother recorded it. That's right, she pulled out her tape recorder and made an audiotape of the little demon's voice. My brother napped for a bit and I (a true artist when it came to whining) got to go to the store with my dad. A trip to the store with my dad usually meant we would get any or all of the following:

1. chocolate milk (full fat deliciousness that this milk hating/sugar detesting girl LOVED)
2. Rolos (I kind of liked them, but preferred Paydays. What kind of kid likes Payday bars? The kind of kid who hates sharing with her brother because he ALWAYS wanted more)
3. Slim-jims (I loved them. I haven't eaten one it at least 18 years, but I probably would still like them.)

My brother ran faster than I did, so he normally got to go with my dad on these excursions. My dad would try to sneak away, and we would hear the truck start. My bro never took his shoes off and never shut a door. He would be in the truck before I was even standing up. He always won. Almost always. 

The day of the bite he fell asleep and my mom knew that her three year old was going to throw a fit when he woke up. What was initially a crying fit was quickly followed by a conversation about the grapes and him singing the theme song to the "Dukes of Hazard" or The Duke Boys (as we called it). She caught it on tape and used to bring it out to play it for us at random times. I say random because it really was. Sometimes my grandmother would be visiting. Other times we'd just be hanging out on a rainy day.  

This was before we had a camcorder (remember those beasts?). It was clearly before we had computers. My mom used the technology she had to make recordings of our little voices. At the time I didn't understand why. I found the recordings stupid and embarrassing. My brother was a ham, therefor he loved the fact that he was the center of attention (in the recording AND again every time we listened to it). I need to try to find that tape. My guess is that it's gone. It's likely disappeared into the hole that is my old bedroom aka storage. I don't even think her stereo has a tape deck that works. It does have a tape deck though.

I try to record my kiddos a few times a year. I don't normally go for the "special" unless they're learning to walk or something. I know the mundane will be special one day, but it's not like I try to focus on it. I just don't think of recording when I should. When the older one is bored I sometimes haul out the computer and let him muck about with the gem that is photobooth (especially the special effects).  Just last week I recorded him singing "Locked out of Heaven" (Bruno Mars) because he's starting to learn the real words and it's kind of sad to me that he won't be singing "I'll be locked up nevah" for much longer. It's like when he stopped singing "Baa baa black sheep henny henny wool," but I digress (big shocker).

He had no idea I was recording this. I actually spent so much time on his makeup right after this (see Spiderman below) that tonight  (ten months later) was the first time I watched this video.

Just in case you were wondering, my dad and I came home while my mom was in the middle of recording My brother. I got Rolos and shared them with him. Guess who got more?

End note:
This is an example of a blog post I would share with my students. I might give them a prompt about an early memory and see where they went with it. I might also tell them this story first, and then give the prompt. It's all about making connections. That's what we do when we tell stories. We connect with our audience; I connect with my students (hopefully).