| Biographical Non-Fiction posted April 19, 2020 | Chapters: |
...27 28 -29- 30... 
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Job insecurities and the Terrible Twos.
A chapter in the book Remembering Yesterday
Growing Pains
by BethShelby
| Background Job insecurity threaten possible layoffs for Evan. The twins are in the terrible twos and constantly creating chaos. We buy acreage in the country. The year is 1964 in Jackson, MIssissippi. |
The fifties, which we had recently left behind, had been times when communism was the thing that threatened America. Although the Korean War had come to an inconclusive end, America remained in a cold war with Russia. The director of the FBI, J.Edgar Hoover, had made it his mission to root out any hint of communism. We'd survived the Cuban Missile Crisis, and more recently, the death of President Kennedy.
The sixties brought about a different kind of discontent. Communism, although still a threat, had taken a back burner to the racial tension that was especially prevalent in the South.
In Mississippi. where there was always an excess of rational prejudice, things were heating to the boiling point. It was a time when black people weren’t allowed to eat in white restaurants or hotels. Black and white children went to separate schools. In doctors offices, the waiting rooms were separate. In places where there were restrooms or drinking fountains, they were labeled as to who could use them.
Now, the black people were being encouraged by Martin Luther King, the NAACP, and voter right activist groups to stand up for their rights. They were tired of being considered second class citizens and were beginning to protest. Many Mississippi white citizens, who feared change, felt their way of life was being threatened. Under the cover of night, the KKK was reemerging.
Although we recognized the unfairness of the way things were, you and I remained detached. Our ancestors had been in this state for many generations. We had been exposed, all of our lives, to traditional opinions and prejudices. Neither of us made an effort to go against the grain. In that sense, I guess we were guilty of being on the wrong side by accepting the inequality. We treated everyone with respect, but like most citizens, we were too concerned with our own personal problems to look for civil causes to fight for.
In the early sixties, the US was in a recession. Rumors were circulating that your company would soon be laying off a lot of employees. You hadn’t worked there nearly as long as some of the others, and you still had personality issues with the department supervisor. We were concerned that we might be without an income soon.
When something was bothering you, it was your nature to clam up, but I could tell you were worried about your job. I was concerned as well, because now we had a growing family to support. One of the first employees to go was your best friend in the company, Jerry. Jerry was an excellent draftsman, but he didn’t work fast enough to please the supervisor.
The twins were growing and getting into more things every day. It was warm enough for the children to be outside. They had tried my patience to the point I needed a break. I put the twins in a shallow blow-up pool and positioned it just outside the kitchen window, so I could watch what was going on from inside while I did the dishes. Carol was busy coloring at the kitchen table.
Don and Christi seemed to be enjoying splashing in the water. Don kept getting out and back in again. Then I noticed him putting something into his mouth. He handed Christi something which she promptly put into her mouth. I hurried outside to see what they’d found to munch on. To my horror, both twins were holding toadstools which appeared to be partially eaten.
I grabbed them up, one in each arm, and brought them inside, both howling protests at having their fun interrupted. I begin frantically trying to figure out what I should do. In the yellow-pages, I found a number for poison control. I was told to get Syrup of Ipecac and force some of it down to make them throw up.
This meant a trip to the nearest drug store. I couldn’t leave three children while I went on this errand. I had to enlist the help of my neighbor to watch them. I had no way of knowing if this fungi was poisonous, or how long I had before something horrible might happen. When I completed my mission, my poor babies thought their mom was trying to kill them, as I struggled to get this foul potion into their systems. In the end, they did throw up and the crisis ended. So ended another day in my hectic life.
Their next adventure, designed to drive their mom over the edge, wasn’t as scary, but it did generate feelings that no mother should have for her offspring. I can’t remember how they got so far with this project without me being aware of it until it was too late. It involved Don’s climbing skills and Christi’s willingness to be an accomplice.
Don got his hands on a one pound bag of flour. He gave Christi a bottle of Karo syrup, which had somehow lost it’s lid. They were too young to be playing at cooking, so there is no explanation for why they selected these items. They brought their new play things into my living room and proceeded to empty them onto my couch. Both of them were covered from head to toe with flour and syrup. Tears of frustration rolled down my face as I yanked them up and headed for the bathroom. I put both babies into the tub and proceeded to scrub them, none too gently. My upholstered sofa was a lost cause.
Carol managed to stay completely innocent. She was always coloring, playing with her doll, or staring at the TV set. Most of the time, she was a little angel until something displeased her. She always woke up in a bad mood. If you dared to say “Good Morning, Carol” she would erupt in tears and say, “I din’t want you to say ‘gudt’ mor’in’ to me.”
Remember the time we took her to the park where there were kiddie rides? She wanted to ride in the little cars until just before the ride began to move. We saw that look that meant trouble. It was too late to get her off. The cars had started to move. Her lips poked out, and she glared at us as she went around. Then, she drooped over side-ways like she had passed out.
Some of the parents, waiting around the ride, started pointing and saying, “Look, something’s wrong with that child.” You and I realized she was pulling one of her recognizable protests, so we didn’t try to stop the ride. At the end, she got off in a snit, but no worse for having ridden. She pouted all the way home.
You were away at night school, when the twins caused the next crisis. This involved a piece of furniture you had designed and built in your workshop. It was a combination bookcase, aquarium stand, and planter. It was tall but not much deeper than the base of the twenty gallon aquarium, which sat on the top, filled with water, gravel, and many colored tropical fish. We were using it as a divider between our living and dining spaces.
Carol and I were in the room with the twins, but we were watching TV, when we heard a horrific crash, followed by wails of pain from my babies. Both twins had used the bookcase portion of the divider as a ladder, and their combined weight had been enough to topple the whole thing on top of them. They were penned beneath scores of books, broken glass, gravel from the tank, and fish jumping all over them.
I don’t know how I managed to extract them from this mess without someone being severely cut from the glass. I don’t remember even trying to rescue the fish. I had enough to deal with, because they both screamed for what seemed like hours. Even after Don had settled down and fallen asleep, Christi’s body was still jerking, even as she slept. Neither of them were seriously injured, but we knew this piece of furniture was not something we could have in our house.
You had located some property in the country, you wanted to check out. It turned out to be nearly an hour from Jackson, out in the country. It was 143 acres in a rural community of Rankin County. You were excited about it. It had once had a house, and an old chimney was still standing. There was an archaic one room log house in the nearby field. The property was for sale by the owner.
The owners were two elderly brothers, who were willing to finance it over five years at a low interest rate. You thought we should buy it. I didn’t argue, but I was concerned about where the money would come from if you lost your job. I hoped you had a plan in mind that didn’t involve relocating your little family to the sticks.
A few weeks later, your company laid off a number of the geologists and upper level executives. Rumors grew that there were more cutbacks on the way, and the drafting department would be next. I got the newspaper out and started scanning the employment section. Surely if I found something for myself, we could hire a baby sitter. I needed a break from being a full time mom, and you needed help supporting this family.
The sixties brought about a different kind of discontent. Communism, although still a threat, had taken a back burner to the racial tension that was especially prevalent in the South.
In Mississippi. where there was always an excess of rational prejudice, things were heating to the boiling point. It was a time when black people weren’t allowed to eat in white restaurants or hotels. Black and white children went to separate schools. In doctors offices, the waiting rooms were separate. In places where there were restrooms or drinking fountains, they were labeled as to who could use them.
Now, the black people were being encouraged by Martin Luther King, the NAACP, and voter right activist groups to stand up for their rights. They were tired of being considered second class citizens and were beginning to protest. Many Mississippi white citizens, who feared change, felt their way of life was being threatened. Under the cover of night, the KKK was reemerging.
Although we recognized the unfairness of the way things were, you and I remained detached. Our ancestors had been in this state for many generations. We had been exposed, all of our lives, to traditional opinions and prejudices. Neither of us made an effort to go against the grain. In that sense, I guess we were guilty of being on the wrong side by accepting the inequality. We treated everyone with respect, but like most citizens, we were too concerned with our own personal problems to look for civil causes to fight for.
In the early sixties, the US was in a recession. Rumors were circulating that your company would soon be laying off a lot of employees. You hadn’t worked there nearly as long as some of the others, and you still had personality issues with the department supervisor. We were concerned that we might be without an income soon.
When something was bothering you, it was your nature to clam up, but I could tell you were worried about your job. I was concerned as well, because now we had a growing family to support. One of the first employees to go was your best friend in the company, Jerry. Jerry was an excellent draftsman, but he didn’t work fast enough to please the supervisor.
The twins were growing and getting into more things every day. It was warm enough for the children to be outside. They had tried my patience to the point I needed a break. I put the twins in a shallow blow-up pool and positioned it just outside the kitchen window, so I could watch what was going on from inside while I did the dishes. Carol was busy coloring at the kitchen table.
Don and Christi seemed to be enjoying splashing in the water. Don kept getting out and back in again. Then I noticed him putting something into his mouth. He handed Christi something which she promptly put into her mouth. I hurried outside to see what they’d found to munch on. To my horror, both twins were holding toadstools which appeared to be partially eaten.
I grabbed them up, one in each arm, and brought them inside, both howling protests at having their fun interrupted. I begin frantically trying to figure out what I should do. In the yellow-pages, I found a number for poison control. I was told to get Syrup of Ipecac and force some of it down to make them throw up.
This meant a trip to the nearest drug store. I couldn’t leave three children while I went on this errand. I had to enlist the help of my neighbor to watch them. I had no way of knowing if this fungi was poisonous, or how long I had before something horrible might happen. When I completed my mission, my poor babies thought their mom was trying to kill them, as I struggled to get this foul potion into their systems. In the end, they did throw up and the crisis ended. So ended another day in my hectic life.
Their next adventure, designed to drive their mom over the edge, wasn’t as scary, but it did generate feelings that no mother should have for her offspring. I can’t remember how they got so far with this project without me being aware of it until it was too late. It involved Don’s climbing skills and Christi’s willingness to be an accomplice.
Don got his hands on a one pound bag of flour. He gave Christi a bottle of Karo syrup, which had somehow lost it’s lid. They were too young to be playing at cooking, so there is no explanation for why they selected these items. They brought their new play things into my living room and proceeded to empty them onto my couch. Both of them were covered from head to toe with flour and syrup. Tears of frustration rolled down my face as I yanked them up and headed for the bathroom. I put both babies into the tub and proceeded to scrub them, none too gently. My upholstered sofa was a lost cause.
Carol managed to stay completely innocent. She was always coloring, playing with her doll, or staring at the TV set. Most of the time, she was a little angel until something displeased her. She always woke up in a bad mood. If you dared to say “Good Morning, Carol” she would erupt in tears and say, “I din’t want you to say ‘gudt’ mor’in’ to me.”
Remember the time we took her to the park where there were kiddie rides? She wanted to ride in the little cars until just before the ride began to move. We saw that look that meant trouble. It was too late to get her off. The cars had started to move. Her lips poked out, and she glared at us as she went around. Then, she drooped over side-ways like she had passed out.
Some of the parents, waiting around the ride, started pointing and saying, “Look, something’s wrong with that child.” You and I realized she was pulling one of her recognizable protests, so we didn’t try to stop the ride. At the end, she got off in a snit, but no worse for having ridden. She pouted all the way home.
You were away at night school, when the twins caused the next crisis. This involved a piece of furniture you had designed and built in your workshop. It was a combination bookcase, aquarium stand, and planter. It was tall but not much deeper than the base of the twenty gallon aquarium, which sat on the top, filled with water, gravel, and many colored tropical fish. We were using it as a divider between our living and dining spaces.
Carol and I were in the room with the twins, but we were watching TV, when we heard a horrific crash, followed by wails of pain from my babies. Both twins had used the bookcase portion of the divider as a ladder, and their combined weight had been enough to topple the whole thing on top of them. They were penned beneath scores of books, broken glass, gravel from the tank, and fish jumping all over them.
I don’t know how I managed to extract them from this mess without someone being severely cut from the glass. I don’t remember even trying to rescue the fish. I had enough to deal with, because they both screamed for what seemed like hours. Even after Don had settled down and fallen asleep, Christi’s body was still jerking, even as she slept. Neither of them were seriously injured, but we knew this piece of furniture was not something we could have in our house.
You had located some property in the country, you wanted to check out. It turned out to be nearly an hour from Jackson, out in the country. It was 143 acres in a rural community of Rankin County. You were excited about it. It had once had a house, and an old chimney was still standing. There was an archaic one room log house in the nearby field. The property was for sale by the owner.
The owners were two elderly brothers, who were willing to finance it over five years at a low interest rate. You thought we should buy it. I didn’t argue, but I was concerned about where the money would come from if you lost your job. I hoped you had a plan in mind that didn’t involve relocating your little family to the sticks.
A few weeks later, your company laid off a number of the geologists and upper level executives. Rumors grew that there were more cutbacks on the way, and the drafting department would be next. I got the newspaper out and started scanning the employment section. Surely if I found something for myself, we could hire a baby sitter. I needed a break from being a full time mom, and you needed help supporting this family.
Book of the Month contest entry
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I'm continuing to recall memories of life with my deceased husband as if I am talking aloud to him. I'm doing this because I want my children to know us as we knew each other and not just as their parents;
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