Applicant #22: Jeanne Munson

Jeanne Munson is a mom from Graham.

My video application:

Find me online:

+ Facebook

A bit about me:

Hi…my name is Jeanne. And I’ve got two kids–seven and four–who’ve changed the way I see most things in life. Only I’m not sure I’d have it any other way.

In the second grade, I knew that I wanted to be a teacher like Mrs. Berry who gave gum out on Fridays, exposed kids to great books and loved each kid for who he was. Only on a slightly different track, I taught high school English for eight years in the public schools, and loved it.

As much as I thought then that I could identify with mothers or parents, nothing changed me to the core like having my own child. I’d been sympathetic, but I didn’t know empathy. I loved, and yet my heart expanded extra sizes with each child. Even words like ‘gratitude,’ ‘minivan’ and ‘sleep’ held layers of meaning I suddenly understood.

Right now I’m a homeschooling mom—working my way through second grade with our daughter. I’m also a reader, a blogger, and a hunter for clean little boy underwear. I play soccer and volleyball on teams with my husband, UNO with my son, and word games with my daughter.

More than anything I love the sound of quiet when our kids are asleep. And I’ve yet to tire from the words, “I love you, mommy.” Or, “I made this by myself just for you.”

I’m just so glad I got included in this whole motherhood deal.

My blog post:

When You're LAST

We were still in the garage when my son snapped his seat belt and threw up his hands. “I’m first!” he shouted.

My daughter grappled for hers, clicking just as quickly. “And sissy’s second!” my son added.

I fumbled for my seat belt as we drifted out of the garage. “I’m third,” I announced.

Only my son got serious. “You’re not third, mom. You’re LAST!”

Which reminded me of what I knew all along.

During my seventh grade summer, my middle school P.E. teacher encouraged me to turn out for TAC track. Which was like AAU basketball. Or USVBA volleyball. Something with an acronym that no one can remember.

I did.

And I ran the 200 meter dash at a track meet in Seattle.

Or rather, I was on the same track at the same time as ten other girls—none of them white—who zipped past me to the finish line.

Last, my friend.

Very last.

But apparently there was good news…

Only two people in my age group were entered for the javelin. Just two. If I but walked up and tossed the javelin—anywhere--I was guaranteed a medal.

A medal. Glory be.

What no one bothered considering was that I’d never thrown a javelin.

Correction. I’d never touched a javelin.

Well…

it is possible I set a new record for how un-far a javelin can be chucked in the grass.

As well, I stood on the podium with my third place medal. Earned by embarrassment alone.

But as my son would remind me, I was hardly third.

I was LAST.

...I knew it.

Jeanne