Everyday Life

In both the 1990 and the 2000 Censuses, the average household size for households with more than one person was 3.25 persons per household. In 1980, that figure was 3.35 persons per household. Because we’re dealing with people, who are indivisible, I’ll round this up and say that the average household contains four people.

In March 1985, when I was born, the Menter household became an average household with a total of 4 people. It held this status for a whopping 19 months before Joshua was born in October of 1986.

Now, after 23 years 7 months and 1 week as a “large household”, the Menter household is again average.

John Menter, age 19, is moving out of my parents’ home this evening–leaving them with only four people in their household.

Introducing the Menters: a dad, a mom, a son, a daughter. At four people, a perfectly average household.

Or maybe it takes a little more than numbers to make a household average.

Have you ever stopped to wonder what life was like when your grandma was a girl?

Have you ever stopped to wonder what your grandma was like when she was a girl?

Somehow, I think we can be tempted to look at pictures from the past and hear the stories our grandparents tell and forget that once upon a time they really were children. My grandparents weren’t just once a miniature grandma and grandpa. They were children, with childish ways of looking at the world and childish dreams and aspirations.

I’d never really thought about it until one day when I was poking through my grandma’s old papers and found a composition notebook from her health class–in the 1940s.

Reading her penned notes in the margins, I suddenly became aware of grandma as a girl.

World War 2 was raging, and Grandma was apparently quite caught up in the war effort.

“Hitler is horrid, abominable, cruel and absolutely detestable” she wrote in a fit of zeal. She wasn’t at all fond of the axis powers–and didn’t think they deserved a capital letter. No “Axis” for Carol Marie Pierce. She’d write it “axis.” And she declared, “Let’s not bury out hatchets till we bury the axis.” In another location, she wrote that “Hirohito, Mussolini, Hitler: ought to be shot.” Shot was underlined no less than four times–and her parenthetical statement (“They will be too”) afterwards indicated her confidence in the Allied troups.

Her patriotism cam out as she scrawled “V for Victory” and “U.S. strongest nation in the World”. Douglas MacArthur, who apparently was somewhere in Australia, must have been a hero, for Grandma penned a short note to him and Mrs. MacArthur: “I admire your courage.” She encouraged others to support the war effort, with her injunction to “Buy War Bonds and Stamps.”

That’s not to say that all her notes were about the war. She used her best cursive to write out her full name “Carol Marie Pierce” and location “Walnut, Neb”. She wrote of her dislike of studying health. And on occasion, she realized that her brackets could make a nice little face–and spent several lines drawing bracket faces.

It’s odd. That face looks familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen it before. In fact, I’ve drawn it before.

And suddenly I realize that my grandma was once a girl–just like me.

A Facebook message to my sister sent rather early this morning:

Anatomy Question:
Just wondering–what organs/things of interest might be found immediately inferior to the left costal margin, almost on the side of the body? I woke up this morning feeling a weird knob down there. I tried to see if there was something comparable on the right side, but couldn’t identify anything similar.

A text conversation around 10am:

Her
Spleen. Do you have mono?

Me
Maybe. Dunno. Heh.

Her
Are you tired and do you have lymph nodes? Is the lump painful?

Me
Not tired anymore than I have been for most of the semester.

Noticed lymph nodules a week ago. Currently unspectacular.

No pain unless I poke it or lie on it funny. Then only mild discomfort.

Her
Sounds like mono to me

Me
Nice. Do I do something about it or just sit tight?

Her
Eh

The delights of having a personal medical adviser available by phone, e-mail, Facebook, or text. Disadvantage? Since she’s related, she can’t actually diagnose or treat me (and, of course, a diagnosis might require a bit more than a text conversation–like actually seeing me, perhaps.)

So I’d have to go to a non-related healthcare provider if I wanted a real diagnosis.

But since my medical adviser says “Eh” (and I’m beginning a vacation/thesis work summer), I’ll hold off on seeing a doctor just yet–and proceed to give my sister medical power of attorney as planned.

Addendum: Now if I could just stop poking that little knobby, I might feel just fine!