My Nickname

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Yesterday someone asked me and several others if we ever had a nickname growing up.  I shrugged and shook my head at first, remembering how hard it was to make something cutesy out of my name — Shannon.  People called me “Shainer,” “Sha-na-na,” and at Christmastime “Oh, Shannonbaum, oh Shannonbaum” but none of them really stuck.

My kids all raised their hands and I nodded remembering family nicknames through the years, but I didn’t remember my own.

Until.

It came back like a ton of bricks.  I wasn’t “Goody Two Shoes” or  “Nark,” or “Band Geek” but something much, much worse.   I had repressed it, apparently but now it came crashing down like a ton of bricks.

Thunder Thighs.

Oh, how I had longed to be taller and leaner like my 8th grade gal pals.  What a blow it was at age 16 when my parents said the words, “No, you’re probably all done growing.”

I had the strongest kick on the swim team and it showed from my ankles to my hips.

For a moment the shame of adolescence came back to me, but my 40 something self-esteem quickly beat the crap out of it.

Then I came home, turned over the calendar page at my sink and saw this:

Get Hoppping

Thank you God for Thunder Thighs!

 

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3 responses »

  1. What is the name of the calendar? Love reading your posts. To be a mom of a college man plus 3 more and wife and aunt and sister and on and on and on…yes a Child of God! You are loved.

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