I had a hilarious, entertaining, awesome, crazy, absolutely amazing childhood but as many beautiful, fabulous adjectives as apply to that period of my life--normal was definitely not one of them.
My dad was a burly man (alright very large). There's a horrible clinical term that could describe him, but to little Susie he was my strapping hero, stronger than every other girl's daddy, and possessor of a shiny black beard and twinkling brown eyes, and the biggest, softest, most awesome "pillow belly" any little girl could dream of. He played the trumpet in the orchestra and wore two kinds of shoes: dress boots and work boots. He liked polos for church, crew neck t shirts for every day, black jeans, and he had a hideous suspender phase. Ew, really. He loved a solid coating of black pepper on everything he ate--save cereal and ice cream. He adored Rush Limbaugh--I still find that voice oddly comforting--Reagan, the "old California", a good workin' man, and he could belt out a Journey song like no other. I'm serious. :) He owned a logging company, and sometimes he drove to church in a logging truck.
Mama was a vivacious redhead, who used her history as a 4 sport-a-year-athlete to shape her into the energizer bunny of mothers, and she always had a baby in the belly, on the hip, and on the hand. She loved it. She was bright and gregarious, and her raised her children to love Jesus, be the best-behaved children in the store, and taught us how to
And us kids?
We were that homeschooled well-behaved crew, that always matched at church, excelled in AWANA, and were constantly on another adventure.
One of our family's favorite ways of adventuring was "the trip". A "trip" could be a business trip, or a cross-country jaunt, or a ten hour drive to somewhere boring that somehow turned out to be a blast of a trip.
I'm pretty sure Daddy's secret to make a trip fun and not a the horrid ordeal that stuffing 8 or 9 or 10 bodies in a car that had two fewer seats than whatever size family there was at the time...was that he had an aversion. An aversion to seatbelts. We really never wore them. Unless we saw a cop, and then we pretended to wear them, but mostly we were free to laugh, kick, pinch, and play (while seated) in the backseat.
We never really thought we were weird. Lucky? Yes. Weird? Nah. While our friends had to wear seatbelts, most our cousins on our Dad's side never did. We figured some people were just more enlightened than others. Childish reasoning is a great thing. ;)
Shortly after Daddy died, my younger brother (sibling #6) learned in school that wearing seatbelts was actually THE LAW (haha, I know ;) and insisted that we wear seatbelts.
We eventually fell into the habit.
Lame. I mean, cool. Law-abiding is good. ;)
We'd occasionally joke about it but one day...the seatbelt issue was discussed in the most unlikely place.
It was at the first half of what we called my "bachelorette party"--essentially lunch and nails for me one day, and a pre-wedding slumber party with my bridesmaids the night before the wedding.
I was getting my itsy-bitsy, baby-sized nails worked on
I loved it! I loved hearing my sisters nostalgically speak of the days before seatbelts, my cousins chuckle and nod in agreement, and my friends' adorably shocked faces. I realized then that, while my father wouldn't be there on my wedding day, he raised me, I was his daughter, and I bore his legacy.
I realized I would never be "normal". I was homechooled, have seven siblings, my dad drove logging trucks to church while everyone else's dad wore ties, and my mom talks to everyone, so everyone "knows" me.
But I am so happy to be Susie Manthei Maurer, even if no one will ever be able to spell those German last names. I'm so proud and happy to be one of the weird Manthei clan. I love that my future children are going to have an awesome paternal grandpa who was in the CHP (yep, irony is beautiful) and the legendary grandpa who didn't believe in seatbelts. [ I had to say future because my family will take anything as a baby announcement. ;)]
I was the bride who agonized for months over my bridesmaids' dresses, but forgot to make her own bouquet. The girl who grew up in the muddy, snake-infested, tree-falling country but who had a formal, elegant, church wedding. I'm the girl who had a crazy, weird, amazing childhood that prepared her for adulthood. I'm the girl with an amazing family.
The girl who didn't wear seatbelts 'til she was 16.
And yes, I wear seatbelts now like any good American. ;)
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