Confessions of a Guinea Pig...I'm Done Being the Guinea Pig

      I've accepted the fact that I'm genetically, and as a consequence, forever short and petite. I've accepted the fact that I'm naturally blond, and I continue to daily fight the societal stereotype that says the ultimate determinant of my intelligence is my hair color. However, I do not understand how either of these unchangeable facts doom me to a life (or eternity) or being the guinea pig to every new and/or worst situation that sweeps by wherever I happen to be. Am I just that unlucky?

     I decided to enroll in the online section of a class last semester and the first words out of the teacher's mouth at orientation are, "So, this is the first time we've ever done an online section of this class." Great...I got out of there with my dignity and a B+.

     After making the decision to take a semester off, quit my job and go to Australia, in preparation for my arrival the third-youngest decides to clear out, bunk with the second-oldest and grant me the...um...pleasure of rooming with the second-youngest...Thanks. I see why you ran out of there so quickly. 

     I never thought I'd miss having college roommates, but I think I'm beginning to see why I was able to score a private room for next semester. I'm going to need some time to recoup to regain the mental stability and stamina I'll need to share a room with any human being from ANYWHERE on the face of this planet!

     Is there some unwritten rule that the eldest always gets the shortest (no pun intended...ha) straw of the pick? And why does it bother me that they have no motivation to get up their butt up and ready to get to school on time? Is it because I've been trying to fall asleep to the glow of their ipod? Their snoring?? Probably a combination...but, hear me Universe when I say, "I'm done being the guinea pig! Pick on someone else to make a joke of."

     I feel like my head is swimming with so much stuff I can't figure out how to unwind! Oh Utah, how I miss you! Your mountains tops, your hot summers (that are actually hot), and all the familiar faces therein (I miss you all SO much!) I'll be home soon.

Jess

My Brother's Grammar is Hilariously Incorrect When He's Upset

     Living in a house with five of my six siblings has been a huge throwback (slap-in-the-face, tsunami-powered wave, I got more) to what it was like before the blessed college days and roommates. Yes, that's right. I'm calling my college career blessed. For soooo many reasons I'm discovering I took for granted.

     Still, in this rush of memories and in between the bouts of my little baby brother's tantrums I'm finding his adjustments to the reality of life pretty entertaining. As I write this he is over-concerned that his remote-controlled toy train is going to get him, gouge his eyes out and devour him lest it be kept on it's set of wooden tracks. He expresses this through a series of high-pitched squeals and wails (Seriously, how does he do it? I've been trying to get my voice up there for AGES.)
     It's amazing to see the turn of emotions as Henry's excitement turns from absolute euphoria to pure horror. Lesson: NEVER set a toddler's train on any surface other than its designated path.

Tell him you want to take a picture and he's there.

     Now he's teasing me, tugging at my legs and saying, "I-i-i foound yoou!" What is this? Henry is really the only sibling whose toddler-hood I remember. That must mean that either the other six were complete bliss (including mine), or that, being the eldest, I just placed myself above all of them and never bothered to pay them any mind. However, I know for certain the former is certainly not true. Hmmm...no, you're right, there's got to be another reason, because even I surely am not that vain.

What he did when I told him to make a funny face. Silly.

     I'm officially putting in writing that all toddler's experience an inevitable "phase", if nothing more, of bi-polar disorder. Complete manic one moment, then kicking and screaming for a nap or whatever other train monster happened to befall upon their path.

     Often times when Henry is upset he begins with a sob of "___ made me sa-a-ad!" I've also noticed that even with his elite and extensive three-year-old vocabulary he slips up and says things like, "Her made me sad" and "Her hurt me" instead of "She made me sad" and "She hurt me".

He just started taking pictures.
Hey, the kid knows touch-tech like the back of his hand...almost.
He's basically a professional in the kiddie community.

Henry didn't scream, but he is NOT ready for a nap!

     So yes, as sad as it may sound, even amongst my brother's tantrums, I still find a pocketful of sunshine to pull out. It makes me smile.

Cheers,

Jess