The secret is out. I post-date my entries. Usually I write them in the evening, setting them up to “go live” in the morning.
Having kids makes me wonder about lots of things. (Including references which will be lost on them, like “Be kind, rewind” and dialing a phone, even that Dell guy who turned out unsurprisingly to be an actual pothead. Dude, you’re getting a Dell.
But what I’ve been wondering about is what will their lasting memories be?
I remember swimming, and all the friends I made and the overwhelming support I had from my parents. I remember drawing elaborate roads on our driveway to bicycle on and raking paths in the backyard in the fall to ‘hike’. I remember playing with Nerf guns in the house when we lost power in the summertime after a big thunderstorm. My favorite memory is this:
My brother had this old school metal trundle bed and we used to pull out the old mattress to play with it. Sometimes we used it in elaborate fort building but the best was when we used it as a sled. We has this solid wood staircase growing up it was about 6 feet wide, but as a kid it felt like it was 10 feet. We would place the mattress at the top of the stairs and then lie on it on our stomachs holding the back end (so our feet would go down the stairs first). Scoot. Scoot. Scoot. Slide! It was over in an instant. At the bottom of the stairs was a wall. It had the air return for the HVAC in it. We would hit it so fast it sounded like the house was coming down.
I don’t remember ever getting yelled at for it… or told not to for that matter. How is that possible? Aside from the obvious “you could have broken your leg” there were photos hanging on that wall, we’re they not worried we would knock them off? Did the noise not annoy my parents to the point of insanity?
Am I just way more uptight than my parents were, or am I remembering what it was like as an adolescent and teen, when they realized I was not going to turn out to be a sociopath or a destroyer of nice things they owned?
The early years are tough. When you’re trying to feed them and dress them and teach them to be people, not apes who throw feces. It’s unfortunate that as it gets easier to treat your children like people they become less and less interested in snuggling up on the couch with you. Will they remember the snuggles, or will they remember that I screamed DO NOT THROW FOOD 7 times today?
Pretty soon they will be brining their high school girlfriends/boyfriends over to watch Armageddon again. Oh god! I will now go breathe deeply with my head between my knees.