[I am the tan one on the right. My sister is the pale one on the left.]
When I was in high school, I had a teacher named Mrs. Keating. She was a math teacher. I hated math. She was the hardest teacher in the school. The students that didn't like her always talked about her arms. She was skinny, but her arms shook when she wrote on the board. We'd sit there, transfixed, as Mrs. Keating's arms wrote equations on the board. And for the first seven months of school, that is how I thought of her. Wiggly Arms... Mom Arms as some people called them.
The last two months of school I came down with Mono. The kissing disease struck me so badly that I could not go to school for over a month. The school district gave me a home teacher, and I did my work at home. Most of my teachers ignored the home teacher's requests to help me with my schooling. Especially my "cool" teachers. Mrs. Keating did not. She sent home all my homework, and called periodically to check on me. She was fabulously nice, and she probably does not even remember it. I learned that there was a lot more to my teacher than red hair and wiggly arms. She actually cared about her students. Sadly, the kids in my class probably never realized this. Some of them still talk about the way her arms shook.
I thought this was a once in a lifetime thing. I did not know that Mom Arms were a common syndrome. I was wrong. I hear them referred to on TV shows, in movies, in books, and in everyday conversations. In fact, as I just sat coloring a card for my friend's birthday, I felt a little wiggle to my side. I looked over. And there they were: Mama Arms. Mama Arms on ME.
