April 04, 2013

Grade 7 Memories

Grade 7 was a wonderful year, but, also the beginning of the worst years of my life if that makes any sense.
I had a wonderful teacher who I think about often.
Ms.  Woodrow was a spunky red head with a raspy voice and terrific sense of humour.
I had a best friend.
She was always prettier and smarter and had nicer clothes.
But she was my friend and I loved her.
She is still my friend.
And I still love her.
I was discovering boys.
And I was skinny.

Memories from Grade 7 that might not have been from grade seven, but it is what I remember, so lets stick with that.

*  I sang 'O Tannenbaum' at the Christmas concert with my BFF and another gal who was also pretty and smart and is probably a doctor or lawyer now.

*  My nickname was "Vikaroni".  I hated it.

*  I got my period for the first time ever on the morning of our year end trip to an outdoor education centre. 

The next little bitty might be TMI but it happened...and I like to share traumatic experiences.

So I woke up, excited to go away for a few days with my besties, cute boys and fun teachers.  I noticed some ...umm....stuff in my undies and was convinced I was dying.  I didn't care though because I was going away and nothing was going to stop me.

If I was dying, hopefully it would happen slowly so I could enjoy the next few days.

So I packed more undies and crossed my fingers that the "stuff" would magically disappear.

Luckily, my mom noticed and gave me the quick talk and stocked me up on pads.

Can you imagine if she didn't notice? 
Dear Mom.
Thank you.
Love Me

Did I just share that story?
Next time you see me, pretend you never read it, OK?


Anonymous said...

Thank heaven for mothers, right? And every month I have to sing to myself, "Sometimes it's hard to be a woman..." Thanks for sharing! I found your blog from Mama Kat's linkup!

Gigi said...

Thank GAWD your mother noticed!

Seventh grade - yech. Middle school was tough.

Ida said...

No need to be embarrassed for sharing. It's part of life and an important one at that.

Anonymous said...

It happens and usually in 7th grade. I couldn't remember if mine was 7th or 8th grade. But I remember being all anxious about it and then it happened and it was no big deal. I just went to my mom and said I needed a pad. My sister had given me a bunch of pamphlets and told me to read them because mom would never get around to talking to me - and she was right!

Jenners said...

I love how the instinct is to keep the dying to ourselves and not tell anyone! Thanks God she noticed!