Nobody Puts THIS Baby In A Corner

STACEY (L), MOM AND LAURA

It’s birthday time again.  I started this adventure last October when I forgot to call my sister, Leta, on her birthday.  To make up for my indiscretion I wrote her a happy birthday post.  I followed that with posts for my brother Steve and my sister Laura.  Now it’s my youngest sister Stacey’s turn.  I’m sure she’s thinking; “Once again, I have to go last-THIS IS SO NOT FAIR! WHY AM I ALWAYS THE LAST ONE! STOP THE PERSECUTION!”  Well, sorry, Stace, but that’s what you get for having a birthday in August when I decide to start an honorarium in October.  My siblings returned the favor by doing a guest post for me on my birthday.  So without further ado, here is Stacey’s birthday post.

The youngest in the family is usually the one with the least amount of face time in family videos and in pictures.  It’s never intentional, it’s just the way it is.  The first born child in most families is the one who is prominently displayed in the first dozen or so extended length video tapes, and has 2 or 3 photo albums filled with every exploit from first step to first peanut butter wall mural.  Each child thereafter has less and less time on videos and less pictures taken; the larger the family, the larger the discrepancy.  The youngest of 3 children may find a dozen or so pictures in the bottom of a forgotten shoe box in a hall closet.  Stacey, being the youngest of 5, likes to say that all of her childhood photos could be found in a Sucrets box in my Dad’s shop.  I’m guilty of the same.  My Mom laughed at me one day when I picked up NukeGirl’s binky, brushed it across my shirt a couple of times and put it back in her mouth.  “What’s so funny?” I asked.  “When NukeBoy1 used to lose his binky, you would practically put on latex gloves and boil a pot of water for sterilization!”  First child overkill, to be sure.  While the youngest feels like they are cheated out of what their older siblings got, the older siblings know that the baby of the family gets away with murder.  I never got to juggle knives when I was little, but Stacey did.  It’s one of the age old arguments that will never be resolved; who has it easier, the oldest or the youngest?  It’s like the chicken and the egg question, but with people.  I was the middle child, and everyone knows how badly we get screwed.

Stacey had the unfortunate task of being the youngest of five children growing up in West Texas in the 1970′s; innocent enough back then, but these days, it could be the subject of a Lifetime Movie.  We didn’t have cable, or Nintendo DS, or cell phones; and thank God for that!  What we did have was the whole day to go out and play; use our imagination a little.  I’ll bet the Lifetime producers would shed a tear over our poor “existence”, but we loved it.  Stacey was the youngest, but she and Laura were only about 20 months apart.  The summers we spent in Santa Fe, New Mexico (is there another one?) were spent at the neighborhood park two houses down from the house we rented.  We spent most of our time there.  I remember Stacey and Laura used to beg me to spin them faster! faster! on the merry-go-round.  As Stacey got older, she got braver.  Some of the neighborhood kids would hang on the bars and let their feet fly out.  It was fun, but if you were the “pusher”, you had about 2 seconds to spin the merry-go-round and then get out of the way before you got clobbered by a tennis shoe.  Or, a tibia, if you were too slow.  Stacey sent me into the dirt on more than one occasion.  Her shin bone was deadly.  Some of my fondest memories revolve around our summers in Santa Fe; one of my worst does as well.

THE SLIPPERY SIDEWALK OF DOOM

As I told you, Stacey loved the feeling of hanging on the outside of the merry-go-round and having her feet fly out as it spun around.  The problem, though, is that the merry-go-round would stop fairly quickly, causing your feet to meet the ground and fill your shoes with about 8 pounds of sand and dirt.  I figured out a way to make the trip last longer; I’d just grab Stacey by the hands and swing her around myself! What could go wrong with an 11 year old swinging his 5 year old sister around?  Plenty, as I was about to find out.  The sidewalks in the neighborhood we lived in were terrible.  The surface would come off from constant freezing and thawing cycles in the winter time; they call it “scaling.”  Here’s a picture to give you an idea.  The top of the sidewalks would come off in sheets, and always when you least expected it.  I’m sure you know what is coming, but I’ll tell you anyway: I was swinging Stacey around and around when I stepped on a section of sidewalk that gave way when I stepped on it.  It came right out from under me.  The natural human reaction when you’re about to fall on your ass is to put your hands down to break your fall, which I did; the problem was, in order to do that I had to first let go of Stacey’s hands, which I did.  It wasn’t intentional, mind you, I just freaked out and did what my body told me to do.  The rest of it went in slow motion, like some Bruce Willis action movie.  I could see Stacey flying away from me, and saw her smile suddenly turn to fright.  There was nothing I could do to stop it.  I fell on my ass, Stacey landed on her face and forehead.  I don’t think I’ve ever felt worse in my life.  I ran to her, rolled her over, saw the blood and then ran in the house to get my Mom.  We spent the rest of the afternoon at the hospital.  Her injuries (thankfully) were mostly superficial.  She had a scrape under her nose, which caused the bleeding, and a HUGE bump on her forehead.  I mean, it was Antarctica big.  It covered her whole forehead.  They did all the tests and everything was fine, but it sure scared the crap out of me; and poor Stacey as well.  Needless to say, we didn’t play that game ever again.

NUKEDAD AND SISTER STACEY

Through the years I’ve seen Stacey learn how to fly without anymore assistance from me; she put herself through college to become a teacher and is now putting herself through graduate school to become an administrator.  She has shown more resilience and determination in her life than anyone I know.  I know that most siblings think that the “baby” of the family gets away with murder, but the truth is, they have to fight and claw harder just to get what they’re due.  She never once complained about it, she just put her head down and did the work.  I’ve always admired her for that; her ability to get the job done regardless of the obstacles.  And so, sister Stacey, with that I wish you a very belated Happy Birthday.  I know this should have been posted on August 28th, and I’m sorry that it wasn’t.  Know that I love you and will always be here for you.  Just don’t ask me to swing you again.