Ron's earliest memory was when his Grandma forgot to open the flue to the fireplace before lighting a fire. The family room filled with smoke, prompting her to open a door and fan the smoke out with a rug. Ron thinks he was three or four. He still laughs when he talks about it. Another very nice early memory.
The other day the kids and I were talking about Grandma & Grandpa C's recent trip to the beach. Tyler said, "Do you remember when we went to the beach with Grandma and Grandpa C? Grandma said to me, 'Ty, do you see the dolphins?' But I couldn't see them because they were too far away." I didn't even remember this until he mentioned it, so I know he's not merely repeating something he's heard us discussing. What amazes me is that he was only 19 months old at the time of that vacation. I don't know if he'll continue to remember that event as he gets older, but I still found it impressive. Tyler's memory has always been impressive.
That's what worries me. I attempt to do lots of fun things with them every day. I find myself saying "we made lots of good memories today" a lot of times. That's really important to me. When our children are older and reflecting on their childhood, I want them to remember how much we loved them, how much we laughed together, and how much we just enjoyed life together. One of these days one of our activities (organized or not) is going to be one of our children's earliest memories, and I'd prefer it be a pleasant one. Of course I'm most mindful of this after I've been impatient or too quick to punish. Like today.
Today I took the kids to the beach at a reservoir to play. We really did have a lot of fun. We played in the sand and in the warm water. The kids giggled a lot in the cold shower in the changing area and were just as excited over the snacks we splurged to buy from the vending machine before heading home. There was no fighting, very little sand throwing, and few embarrassing remarks made to passersby. Yet what I'm afraid they will remember from today is the time I lost my patience because Danielle had to go the bathroom.
Whether you want to admit it or not, we all know there is an unwritten rule stating it's OK to pee in a large body of water that is not chlorinated. You can deny it if you'd like, but I bet you've done it. Danielle had to go today. The bathrooms were a good walk from our spot on the beach, it was over 90 degrees out, and the bathrooms were going to be gross anyway. I told her to just go in the water. Tyler thought that was just hilarious and forced himself to go. Danielle just couldn't do it. It didn't matter what I did or told her, she couldn't go. We even tried taking her suit off in the water so she could go. No luck. She stood on the beach and wiggled. She stood in the water and wiggled. She cried and wiggled. She just couldn't physically make it happen. In retrospect, this makes perfect sense. She's been potty trained for about 5 or 6 months now, but how many times have we told her to only go in the potty? Finally, frustrated, I hauled her out of the water and to the distant bathrooms, Tyler in tow. As soon as her rear end hit that seat she was going. How silly to get frustrated over something so inconsequential.
In the amount of time it took to pull up her suit and leave the bathroom, she had seemingly forgotten my frustration, but my guilt was setting in. I read something once that said we hold our children's hearts in our hands. How true that is. Once we got back to our blanket I apologized for being impatient. Obviously she had moved on to bigger and better things by now (eating goldfish crackers) and wasn't sure what I was referring to. "It's ok, Mommy." she said.
We went back down to the water and the kids took turns giving me mud baths. We looked for shells, made soggy sand castles, and laughed about the sand in our suits. Hopefully these are the times they will remember 30 years from now when they're writing a blog about their children.
We made lots of good memories today. I don't know if the kids will remember anything from today, but I will.
By the way, I'm interesed in hearing other people's earliest memories. Feel free to leave yours, along with your age (at the time of the memory), in the comments section.
4 comments:
My first memory is kind of a smell memory. It's the smell of old plastic. There was a suction toy on my high chair that smelled like that. But my more specific first memory is about a big Bozo the Clown doll we had (it also smelled like old plastic). It got old and ratty, maybe broken somehow and my parents threw it away. At that time we took our garbage to a dump on a gravel road. I remember taking Bozo to the dump!
So that's sort of a sad memory, but I still had a happy childhood.
I remember bringing my brother home from the hospital.I was five. I sat in the back of the car with my "adopted" grandmother who was holding Joe. What sticks out most is my dad having to slam on the brakes and my mom (the worrier always) being concerned about the baby. In those days, we didn't have seatbelts or childseats. Could explain a lot. Hmmmm.
I remember watching my father bring my mother and my younger sister home from the hospital. I was just two weeks short of 3. My dad carried mom in because back then people believed that new mothers weren't supposed to do anything even as strenuous as walking very far.
Just so you know, I'm Leah's friend in Miami. I've enjoyed reading your blog. My first memory is of eating toast (that my mother was an expert in making) on an orange rocking chair with an afghan throw over my legs. I believe I had tang too.
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