As I sit up in bed feeding my daughter for the third time since I first laid her down, hoping that she would drift off to sleepytown, I begin to think back to random moments in my childhood. I was an only child and me and my mom grew up living with my Grandparents. I had some good times back then….
I remember playing outside until it was too dark to see or until I heard something rustling in the woods and got scared. I’d spend hours sitting on the sliding board, my skin kind of matte from the dirt, often talking with my imaginary friends. Their names were Suzie and Doobie. (Yes I now know what a doobie is…no clue where I came up with that name. Even weirder….they were blue.)
I often played store with the JC Penny catalog and used an old square telephone as my cash register. You remember those kind…with the curly cord? Sometimes it was the yellow pushbutton one, sometimes it was the black rotary one. Oh and I always ordered bridesmaid dresses and bras. (Ironic cause those are some of the things I hate to order now.)
I remember getting up to watch cartoons on Saturday mornings with my bowl of fruity pebbles. Real cartoons. Like the Smurfs and Gummy Bears and Shirt Tales on network TV. (We only got 4,6, & 10 growing up…or NBC, ABC and CBS there was no Sesame Street in my world).
I remember I had a cardboard playhouse that grandma put thin sheets up in the windows and door. And when I would put my face up against them to look outside my lips would vibrate whenever I talked. (I remember I used to think Grandma couldn’t hear me because of the curtain….until she came up on the other side and answered me when I asked her a question.)
I often would use my baton like a cane when I hurt myself. Hobbling around and wincing in pain. All from a papercut. On my finger. (Although one time I did sneak my aunts razor and cut myself while shaved my foot. Yeah got in trouble for that one.)
I remember the horrible smell of shrinkie-dinks and how awesome they were when they turned shiny when the hot lava plastic finally cooled down. Even more than that is how amazed I was that Grandpa let Grandma stick them in the oven in the first place. (I don’t think I need to mention how unsafe those toxic fumes were inside a house do I? Way to go 80’s toy companies)
As I look down at my little girl, while I want her to stay my little baby forever, I can’t wait to start making wonderful memories with her. Even if they are ones she makes by herself sitting in the middle of the living room with an old inactive cell phone talking to her imaginary friends in England, I pray she has the free spirit to imagine a whole world of fun and to not be afraid to ask me to help her make become a reality.
*this post was brought out of my brain and to life by……..