I remember my first day of 8th grade. Seriously I can remember back that far.
I had Exersole (“earth shoes”) shoes from Thom McAn (the “lower in the back” shoe). we had to go in the store, wait to be served, have our foot measured, and try on about 10 pairs of shoes and WALK in them around the store, and have our foot and toes prodded by strangers.
Jack ordered custom Vans high tops online. He picked the style and all the colors. We are still waiting for them to arrive, though the checkout message CLEARLY stated that they would arrive Thursday, today. When I checked the email, however, the wait time had magically changed to 2-3 weeks for custom orders. (you could probably hear the screams as I told Jack this sad sad news)
I wore Gouchos, those above-the-knee shortie pants things. Though I went for a more summer look goucho, with a matching patterned top. I think I remember (gasp) pink. Omg just saying Gouchos hurts my memorabilia lobe. My mom made our clothes and used “patterns”. She was actually really good at it, but of course when you’re a thankless brat, what do you know? Wait, maybe the gouchos were 7th grade. I also remember discovering mini skirts about that time. I thought I was so cool.
Jack has cool clothes from cool stores that his dad and I bought. I can almost sew a button on, and that’s about it folks.
In 8th grade I was worried about boys and grades, and had the god-forbid-I-have-to-get-my-feathered-hair-wet-in-swimming-class fears! We were forced to swim. I happily took the zero each time, though I was a great swimmer. From 5th grade til 7th, I would attend swim class with glee. And somewhere mid-7th grade, I was like WHAaaa— BOYS—? And my hair suddenly became WAY more important that a stupid swimming grade.
Not that I had “boyfriends” per se. There was the one boy in our neighborhood that we all had a crush on and I’m sure we all kissed him at one point or another. I remember (maybe 7th grade?) we were all in the neighbors pool and we would dunk underwater, have a quick peck kiss and then pop up like no one was the wiser. Except everyone in the pool knew what we everyone else was doing. It was like a water version of spin the bottle, without the bottle, and the spinning, and … with … water.
(for the record that is NOT me) Photo credit: somewhere on internet google search.
Ok, this is a funny story. Though it might have taken place at the end of 7th grade. So, basically, same time frame. I was walking down the hall with Danny and Lisa. I’ll never forget. Danny had just broken up with someone, and Lisa, who was in the middle, turned to him and said:
“So, are you going to get another girlfriend?”
He said, “Well, I was thinking maybe I’d ask that one.”
That one? I looked around. Was he talking about me? They looked at me.
“Oh.” Lisa said.
I thought that was awesome. Though he wasn’t even on my radar until that very moment. We went rollerskating once and I remember the new song that just came out, “Another One Bite’s the Dust”, by Queen. I thought I was so cool with my rollerskates, my boyfriend (ok, friend that was a boy) and my hip knowledge of the latest songs.
I don’t even remember what happened to him or if we ever spoke again after my father (most likely) picked me up from the rink that night. (ok LATE afternoon). He probably scared poor Danny away. Maybe he asked Lisa out! Hmmmm….
Everything was SO different “back then”, am I right?
My mom certainly didn’t walk me to the bus stop or give me a ride, or even notice I was gone… Well, I’m sure we said goodbye, but with a house full of other kids running around, she was probably glad to see me go each morning. Of course, that would be after me and my sister fought over the ONE tiny bathroom because “we have to do our haiiirrrrrrrrr!!” We both have massive amounts of hair.
(not us, but darn close)
Not sure where all that hair came from. Our electric bill must have been staggering. Each morning was a struggle for my mom to get everyone ready and fed and out the door. (Those Frosted Flakes didn’t necessarily fill you up until lunch either! Just saying!)
This sounds like the story “I walked 2 miles to school each day, uphill both ways”, but I did actually walk to school from 7th to 9th grade. It was 1.5 miles from my house. Maybe a tad less. Just under the distance for which you could safely claim a warm bus ride. Hellooooo, winters in Massachusetts anyone? Deadly frostbite? Driving stinging sleet? Aquanet hairspray meets mother nature??
I remember walking with my friend, who went to Catholic school, each morning. We would head up the street to her bus stop, and then I would continue on ANOTHER MILE to school. The snow would have probably piled up overnight. The roads were deadly slush/ice combinations, and school would NOT EVER be cancelled. I remember this because my friend got to wear the cute Catholic school plaid skirt, and she paired it with these babies:
The funny part was, as she walked, the front bottoms of the clog would start to collect snow and pretty soon she was walking on ever-growing snowballs on the bottoms of her feet. If the snow also collected on the heel, she was, in effect, walking on the first pair of stacked-heel clogs! Who knew!
I’ve forgotten why I started writing earlier, but I’m having fun going down memory lane. Don’t get me started on Dr. Scholl’s and other memorabilia! (I bought a blue pair and have them still in a box. Though I wanted red. They are not the same real wood that I remember. I also don’t think they are that comfy anymore.) But I lived in my original wooden pair when I was 12-13 years old! I would carry them in my hands because I was oh-so-cool as we walked to the store barefoot. Why dirty feet filled with glass was considered cool, I’ll never know. But I thought I was the shizzat.
Oh yes, let me swing back to the title of this blog post and remind myself of why we are all here. The first day of 8th grade. It’s JACK’S first day of 8th grade! Wow! How about take the focus off of me for like 5 minutes. 🙂
I was actually just starting this blog post, and looked up to see that it was almost time for the bus to arrive, so I ran down the driveway to meet it (and hopefully sneak a photo of Jack coming off the bus). The bus was late, probably because all the mom’s are taking the first-day-of-school photos. So I had time to kill. I checked my Instagram feed. Then I checked my blog stats. (Really, thanks guys for reading!) I had a lovely comment from a follower who just had a baby girl in March. So, she’s like JUST coming out of the WTF stage, and into the I’m-tired-AF stage, and sort of getting her mind/body/spirit back enough to shower and look presentable. I hope! She sounded great in the comment she left me, and said she had followed this blog for quite a long time and has see Jack pretty much grow up “digitally” of course. I’m always flattered that there are real people out there reading my posts, and not just “Like Back” people. It’s nice to know that we may have entertained or helped people with our stories. MY stories. Jack insists I only tell lies now. Sigh.
Back to 8th grade. 2017.
me: Ok, ready to head down to the bus? All your stuff packed? (He had an 18lb backpack, a saxophone, a gym bag and a lunch bag. It was ridiculous.)
I was all set to take the getting-on-the-bus photo, when we received a text from Jack’s friend’s older sister. She offered to give Jack a ride.
Jack: Tell her yes!
me: Okayyyyy (sort of bummed)
And there he went off in someone’s car. I took some nerdy photos that he will never give me permission to post. (hold on, I’m actually going to ask right now)
Yeah, so, could you hear the screaming? Sheesh. Can’t even post a photo anymore.
So anywayyy… I had a fun day off and did some fun beachy, doggie-walkie things and then waited for Jack to step OFF the bus at 3pm.
me: Want me to carry that?
We walked up the driveway.
Jack: So, my teachers are pretty nice.
me: That’s good. Even Mr. A?
Jack: Yeah, he’s not bad.
So, that was the wrap-up of the first day of school in the 8th grade. And, the nutritious and well-rounded lunch was eaten and enjoyed… (I remember I used to buy those 3-packs of Choco Chip cookies EVERY day from 8th to 12th grade, seriously, that was my lunch. I remember these twins, they used to bring chocolate milk powder in these little baggies and dump it into their milk. I was jealous I think. And I liked the way they chewed their food. It was very glamorous. I still mimic it to this day.)
The saxophone stayed at school, probably til the end of the school year, so Jack doesn’t have to carry it back and forth… He doesn’t have homework. Just a few chores (put the silverware away PLEASE, take Moca for a walk PLEASE…) and there you have it!
Share some memories of 8th grade in the comments. I would love to hear them!
Good luck class of 2022!