Steve and I met early in the fall semester, 1968. We were in Dr. Crawford’s botany lecture with about 300 other people. I spotted him (hard to miss him at 6’-8”) and my friend, Jean, told me she would introduce us. She was dating another football player, so we planned to be casually walking by the coaches offices when the afternoon team meeting ended. Well, we walked around the block several times before the meeting finally ended! Jean introduced me to Steve, and then she and her boyfriend promptly got into an argument and broke up right in front of us!
But Steve asked me if I planned to go to the freshman game that night, and would I like to go for a coke afterwards. So, our first date was me watching him play football as I happened to sit behind his parents! Right after the game, he came out from the dressing room with blood (someone else’s) all over his jersey. I think that was supposed to impress me. In those days, freshman girls had to be back in the dorm by 10:50pm. So after talking with his parents we only had a few minutes to get me back to the dorm; no coke date! And it was a long time before I admitted our chance meeting wasn’t so accidental!
Steve called the next day and soon we were dating only each other. It was pretty close to love at first sight for both of us. We married on June 14, 1969, at the age of 19. We should have been a “statistic” years ago, by the odds! But we both graduated on time in 1972, and Steve was drafted by the New York Jets. His pro career was extremely short and we both went into teaching for a few years, and then the business world.
A few years ago we started thinking of where we’d like to retire. It had to be a college town, close to a big airport and good medical care. Denton was it! Three years ago we moved back to Denton and Steve bought an Allstate insurance agency. It’s wonderful to be back where we began and to become involved in alumni activities.
We now have 2 children and 6 grandchildren and are still in love with each other. And we are each other’s best friend. Our oldest grandson wore green and white face paint to his first UNT football game when he was 18 months old! (see photo) We hope to keep the Mean Green tradition growing in our family!
Monday, August 23, 2010
A Mentor Mom Story
When I was asked to give a “Mentor Mom Moment” (at a Mother's of Preschoolers meeting) I wasn’t sure what I should talk about. I think the only instruction I got was to be brief! I wondered if I should tell you about a good way I discovered to remove M&M’s from a 3-year old’s nose or maybe tell you something more profound and soul searching from my years of mothering.
Well, I decided to tell you about something sort of “in between.” I have two grown children, a boy and a girl. Both were and are wonderful, but I think it would be safe to say our little girl was a bit of a handful. She was bright and funny, but very determined. She could open child-proof caps and climb the drawers in the kitchen to get on top of the countertop. And she learned to tie her shoes when she was only 3 ½. When our kids were little my husband and I sort of morphed into a “good cop/bad cop” routine in so far as discipline goes. He was the fun guy who rolled around on the floor with them and I was the one who tried to make them behave. I don’t necessarily think this is the best way to do it, but I do think I know when we made this shift.
One evening I was (where else?) cleaning up the kitchen after supper and Steve was playing with the kids in the living room. All of a sudden, I heard a yelp from my husband and a big commotion going on. I went in to investigate and saw a very interesting sight: My precocious 2 year-old daughter, red faced and furious, staring up at her daddy. And my huge husband…he’s 6’-7” and a former football player staring right back at her, but he had more of a “dear in the headlights” gaze. I asked, “What happened?” and Steve said, “She bit me!” So, I asked him if he had given her a swat or what? He said, “Yes, but you won’t believe what she said.”…Well, I spent all day with her everyday…I knew her pretty well, but I asked “What?” anyway. He told me she seemed insulted and said: “Get that spank off my bo-bo!!”
Of course, I said, “You can’t let her get away with that! Give her another spank!” And he just sort of shrunk back and said, “No, no, I don’t think so.”
Part of the reason I tell you this story is to give you some hope. If you have a little one like mine was, you might be thinking “Oh, Lord, just let me get this kid raised!” or you may even wonder if you’ll battle for years and then have nothing in common when she’s grown. Well, I’m here to tell you there is hope! My little girl grew up to be one of my dearest friends. By now I’ve probably learned more from her than she ever did from me, and you all know her…Julia Ross Sullivan Lockhart!
Well, I decided to tell you about something sort of “in between.” I have two grown children, a boy and a girl. Both were and are wonderful, but I think it would be safe to say our little girl was a bit of a handful. She was bright and funny, but very determined. She could open child-proof caps and climb the drawers in the kitchen to get on top of the countertop. And she learned to tie her shoes when she was only 3 ½. When our kids were little my husband and I sort of morphed into a “good cop/bad cop” routine in so far as discipline goes. He was the fun guy who rolled around on the floor with them and I was the one who tried to make them behave. I don’t necessarily think this is the best way to do it, but I do think I know when we made this shift.
One evening I was (where else?) cleaning up the kitchen after supper and Steve was playing with the kids in the living room. All of a sudden, I heard a yelp from my husband and a big commotion going on. I went in to investigate and saw a very interesting sight: My precocious 2 year-old daughter, red faced and furious, staring up at her daddy. And my huge husband…he’s 6’-7” and a former football player staring right back at her, but he had more of a “dear in the headlights” gaze. I asked, “What happened?” and Steve said, “She bit me!” So, I asked him if he had given her a swat or what? He said, “Yes, but you won’t believe what she said.”…Well, I spent all day with her everyday…I knew her pretty well, but I asked “What?” anyway. He told me she seemed insulted and said: “Get that spank off my bo-bo!!”
Of course, I said, “You can’t let her get away with that! Give her another spank!” And he just sort of shrunk back and said, “No, no, I don’t think so.”
Part of the reason I tell you this story is to give you some hope. If you have a little one like mine was, you might be thinking “Oh, Lord, just let me get this kid raised!” or you may even wonder if you’ll battle for years and then have nothing in common when she’s grown. Well, I’m here to tell you there is hope! My little girl grew up to be one of my dearest friends. By now I’ve probably learned more from her than she ever did from me, and you all know her…Julia Ross Sullivan Lockhart!
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