The three years we spent living in the Garden Apartments were memorable. Becky was becoming more capable in most things and enjoyed playing with the other children. She liked her bathes at naptime and I would let her play in the water a while before the serious part of the bath. One day I was in the kitchen cooking and I hadn’t heard her for a while…..upon investigating she was standing in front of the stool shaking my precious bottle of Chanel No. 5 into the water below. I got there just in time to see the last of it drop from sight. It had been a Christmas present from George and been used very sparingly….now it was going down the drain in one flush. I was devastated. We still laugh about it when something evokes the memory…she feels lucky to have escaped with her life.

Becky was a busy little girl. She was the counterpart for Dennis the Menace. She enjoyed stomping through mud-puddles, picking up bugs and putting them in her pockets and bossing the other kids around in our section. She was afraid of a few things though. One fourth of July we all sat on blankets in front of our building and watched the firework display put on by the City. She was terribly frightened and didn’t like the sounds. She stayed on my lap the whole time which was so unusual I remember it. She made a wreck out of me in church. She would wiggle and fuss and “want down” until I was at my wits end. On several occasions she escaped under the pews in front of us and I could see her little blonde head popping up each time she surfaced to see if I was coming after her. Believe me, my thoughts at the time were not very spiritual.

In late summer, 1956, I walked Punky over to the school which was several blocks away from the apartment complex. He was registered for kindergarten and was all excited about going to school. We met his teacher and walked around the room, then left. When we got home he told me….”I don’t want to be called Punky anymore. My name is Georgie.” His teacher had called him “George” and he liked that. So from then on it was George at school and Georgie at home. He went to school half days in the afternoon slot. The first day I walked him to the end of our street and when he could see the school he told me he could go by himself and I could go back home. He rushed on to emphasize the point and I stood on the sidewalk with Becky watching him go.

I was taken back by his show of independence. I had expected him to be a little clingy at least when it was time to go on alone. Perhaps I overdid the preparation thing a bit. I was the one with tears in my eyes while he galloped onto the school yard obviously happy about the whole thing. It was the first little “rip” I got telling me he was cutting the cord. It hurts to see them growing away and yet that is what mothers are to teach. I made the transition easy for him but had difficulty letting him go. I guess that’s what mom’s do.

Our new friends, Eldon and Evelyn, bought a home west of the Plaza where they had been living in an apartment. We went to visit them and it seemed like a long drive from North KC over to Shawnee, Kansas. It was just over the line from Kansas City in a new development of ranch-type houses. It was the next development west of Mission, Kansas. We loved the floor-plan and all the room. After living in a compact apartment it looked fantastic. The yards were large as well so the kids could have a dog and they could play safely without wandering off. We asked them to let us know if any of them became available.

In the meantime, I had become pregnant with our third child. The baby was due in March and George was running a regular schedule on the mail trains. He liked his job very much and was good at what he did. He and Eldon (Mort) could always talk shop talk while Evelyn and I talked children and running a home. Jack and Freda moved to the area in the Spring of 1957 so we knew two couples already that would be in the neighborhood. We were hoping to be in our own home by the time our baby was born.

My mother was coming to stay with me when the baby arrived. It was due about the middle of March that year (1957). I was down to the last couple of weeks and I decided to do some cleaning so I would have it all done when I brought the baby home. I washed windows and curtains, ironed and hung them all back up. I scrubbed and waxed, ran the sweeper and cleaned out the refrigerator….all that good stuff. Georgie and Becky had their baths and were down for an afternoon nap. I had about an hour or so to finish washing up some of the nick-nacks and finishing the cleaning when I heard some muffled noises coming from the bedroom.

I always shut the door at naptime so the children wouldn’t be distracted by my movement around the apartment. I opened the door quietly just a crack to see what was going on. I couldn’t believe my eyes !! They had the curtains tied in knots, had written on the walls and windows with crayons, the toys were all out of the toybox and scattered all over my freshly waxed floor……..while they……were jumping on the beds. I shoved the door open with a thrust and started screaming and yelling like a depraved lunatic. My eyes bulged, my nostrils flared, I grabbed one of their little ping-pong paddles in my hand and beat it to slivers on the end of the bed. I was totally out of control. As I went ranting on they crawled to the head of their beds and looked like they just saw the wicked witch. Their little arms were up over their faces to protect themselves from this mother-turned-terminator.

When I saw their fear it was a pitiful sight. I realized my display of temper was like poison they would remember the rest of their lives. I didn’t want them to see me or hear me re-enact some of my father’s temper tantrums. I put the paddle down and walked out of the room in silence. I closed their door and walked to my own bedroom where I fell to my knees by the bed and cried my eyes out. I wanted to be a good mother and this was not the way to do it. I had become what I hated.

I asked for help and received peace about it. The children took a long nap that day…..

Until tomorrow,

Essentially Esther