Friday, June 14, 2013

The Four Most Beautiful Children in the World

Of course I might be a little bit prejudiced, because these are my children! From left to right we have Karl Herman Ernest, in his lap Kurt Wilhelm Heinrich, next little Katryn Anne Hoye, and last but not least Kristin Leota Georgan. This was perhaps not the wisest choice of names. My first husband's first and last names started with a "K," and my first name starts with a "K," so we thought it would be cute to name our kids all with names that started with "K."  When I got mad and started calling roll, as mothers will, I sounded like an idiot - "K-k-k-k-k-k-k." 

Karl was named after the husband's favorite uncle and mine (Karl and Carl), his paternal grandfather Herman, and his maternal grandfather Ernest. Karl is 52 now.

When Kristin came along 26 months later she was named Kristin because it was a pretty name, Leota for my mother, and Georgan for one of my best friends. At my 50th highschool reunion, my daughter and the beautiful woman  she was named after finally got to meet each other. Kristin is 49 now.

Katryn's first name was picked from an historical novel I was reading at the time about Mary Queen of Scots. Katryn was a Welsh girl, a maid-in-waiting to the queen. The Anne Hoye comes from an Irish ancestress about 10 generations back who was a maid-in-waiting to Elizabeth I of England. Interesting juxtaposition of names, I think. Katryn is 47 now. 

Kurt was named after the son of a couple we were friends with just because I thought the name was cute - I could call him "Kurtie." The Heinrich is after my great uncle Henry (originally Heinrich) and the husband's great uncle Heinrich. The Wilhelm and the Heinrich are both after my great-grandfather, Wilhelm Heinrich Schmidt. Kurt would be 46 now. He was killed in a tragic car accident 5 months before his high school graduation. I miss him very much.

All four of the kids were very smart. Neither the husband nor I could claim credit, but they came from good stock on both sides. They were quite adventurous, too. Karl and Kristin were close, as were Katryn and Kurt. In fact, when I would be walking along pushing my overburdened twin stroller, people would say, "Oh, look. How cute, two sets of twins."

Karl and Kristin seemed to have a fascination with cars. When we lived in Houston, I had a paper route. We drove a big old red and white Oldsmobile station wagon. One day when I was collecting for the Houston Post, Karl got behind the wheel, and Kristin managed to take the vehicle out of "park."  My customer said, "Er, ma'am, your car is getting away." I screamed, "My babies!," ran down the steep drive, hopped in the car, and slammed on the brakes. When I got back to my customer,  flushed and panting, he said, "Nice save.," and gave me a $5 tip in addition to his monthly subscription. I waited until I got them home to paddle their little bottoms. We also owned a nondescript pickup with a wooden bed. They managed to start that with a screwdriver and back into the chain-link fence. Punishment was immediate and unrelenting. Karl had five wrecks before he was 18, thereby costing me a long and happy relationship with Allstate. Kristin has also had five wrecks, none of which were her fault, putting her in the same league with the grandmother I named her after. Katryn has never had a wreck. Kurt never got the chance to own a car, but he did have a completely unrepairable motorcycle, given to him by a friend.

In Houston the kids had many adventures, some I recall had to do with fishing. The girls are the fishermen in my family; the boys never cared for it. One time we were at the cabin of a friend on the San Jacinto river, celebrating Easter with my cousin Doug and his family. My husband sat Karl down on the end of a pier and set him up with a rod and reel. On his first cast, Karl caught a crab. He screamed and threw the whole outfit into the river. His father sadly watched rod, reel, and crab float off down the San Jacinto. I'll bet Santa Ana was no less disappointed at that mighty river. Another time on the same river, different bank, we were all fishing (actually, I was reading - can't stand fishing) when a man down the bank started jumping up and down screaming.  A water moccasin was swallowing his line. Husband calmly got up, walked down the bank, used his pocket knife to cut the guy's line, and threw the snake in the river. We were all, except for the kids, thinking, "dumb ass."

Kristin was perhaps the most adventurous. One hot summer day when I was very pregnant with Katryn, Karl ran into the house, yelling in unintelligible gibberish. I kept trying to understand, so in frustration he grabbed my hand and dragged me out to the yard.  In the backyard was Kristin, hanging by one heel about 12 feet up in a large pear tree. Thank God for sturdy little baby shoes I could tie on her feet with double knots!  I was in no shape to climb 12 feet up in a tree. In fact, I had to go a few feet higher in order to dislodge her and get her into my arms. How I got us both down in one piece I'll never know. Simple relief that she was alive precluded any possibility of a spanking, but she did get a severe scoldng.

Katryn was the most curious. She was forever poking peas and beans into the ears and noses of herself and her siblings. Sometimes extraction required the help of a doctor. I think Karl was the only one who escaped these untender ministrations. I'm surprised she didn't become a doctor, though I think she considered it at one time.

Kurt was unquestionably the most mischievous, also curious, and the most willing to take a dare. Tell him not to do something, and he was bound to try it. We had a box full of Lhasa Apso puppies which he was warned to keep away from until their eyes were opened. I have a cute picture of him on the floor of my darkened bedroom with the box of puppies and an "uh-oh, I've been busted" look on his face. Another time I told him not to touch the Spam can I had just tossed in the trash. When I glance back to check, he had it in his hand, unwinding the metal coil, and his thumb had just been cut to the bone.  Needless to say, three blood soaked towels later, I called my best friend to come and get us for a quick trip to the emergency room with three other kids in tow.  There was a blood trail from the kitchen to the bathroom, and there was not time to leave a note, so when Karl got home from school, he ran screaming to the next door neighbor's house, thinking his entire family had been massacred. Kurt was also a little gullible, too. Once Kristin got him to eat mud pies by covering them with real chocolate frosting!

All things considered, they were pretty darn good little kids, grew up to be considerate, caring teenagers, and three of them are now sensible, responsible adults. I consider myself fortunate considering the day and time they grew up in - the advent of sex, drugs, and rock and roll combined.