Memories of a Child

This week has been semi-uneventful. Okay, completely uneventful. It was just another, ordinary, run of the mill week. Which is sometimes good, but sometimes, you just want things to happen. Even the kids are feeling it, though I think these weeks make Jordan particularly happy, but I picked up Riley on Wednesday and he sighed, "another day down". That sucks! I don't want him to feel that way at my house. Let him feel that way at his dad's house. Oh well, soon things will pick up.

On the 19th is Riley's 10th birthday. I can't believe he's ten. When people ask how old he is I have to pause and think because my first thought is he's eight. Nope. 10. Maybe that's just a sign that I'm getting old.

And maybe getting old makes me reminiscent because for some reason the other day I was thinking back to when I was younger. Much, much younger. In the summers I would go with my friend to visit her grandma. Her grandma lived on the other side of the city, so it was a big deal to go over there. She lived in this beautiful Victorian style house on the North end, near Harrison Blvd. and I think it was near the Governor's mansion, as well. I remember walking to Camel's Back park one afternoon and I thought the mansion was pointed out to us and there were possibly people outside, milling about, looking important. But, that could be a made up memory.

I do know we walked around the neighborhoods often and I distinctly remember walking past and being amazed by the huge house with the lion statues. And I thought that one day I was going to live in that house. It's for sale, by the way. About $1 million. A little out of my price range, but I don't love the lion statues as much, so it's all good.

I think it's funny that these memories are like a replica of a Chrysler Pacifica commercial, or something. I flashback to these beautiful scenes of tree lined streets and huge houses and strolls to the park. It's like a perfect little montage of my summers as a child. And I'm sure it wasn't exactly perfect. I mean, we were dropped off in this huge, ugly green station wagon. It was not fancy in the least, not even back then. And most of the time we grew bored after a couple of hours. Which would explain why we walked the neighborhoods and daydreamed of living in the big houses. And sometimes her grandma was grouchy, which tends to happen when your a grandma and you have several kids visiting. And I wasn't even her grandchild.

Oh yes, and one time I almost broke my nose at Camel's Back park when I walked right smack into a bar that I apparently didn't see. It was horrible. There was blood every where. And when you run down the hill at the same park, you get going so fast that most of the time you end up rolling down the hill and by the time you reach the bottom you are battered and bruised. And yet, I still remember the trips fondly.

Will our kids have fond memories of growing up? Or will they just remember they had to wake up early, go to school, come home and do homework and go to bed and then do the same thing all over again? I just wonder what they'll think back and remember. I hope it's things like the trips to the mountain and the walks and bike rides to the park. I hope they have some kind of nice memories that feel like they were stolen from a mini van commercial. Something!