I read a lovely post by an American blogger recently and it’s really made me think about childhood memories. If you asked your little ones when they grown up, what do you remember most about being a small, what do you think they’d say?
I asked my babies about their childhood memories, would they be dreadful because we had no money for expensive toys or foreign holidays. So this is what Splosh sent me –
‘Raising children is an uncertain thing; success is reached only after a life of battle and worry.’ Democritus, Greek philosopher
” In my humble opinion, an attempt to raise children in absence of sufficient secure income, should be considered a success when at 22 your soon to graduate son, despite plans for an exciting and high-flying career in youth development, still genuinely considers following in the methods and manners in which you raised him for his own children in spite of any potential future income.
But so it is with myself. As I sit and ponder with fondness the memories of my childhood one thing consistently comes to the fore. Contentment. With hindsight I can see the battles and struggles my parents suffered through to keep us well, and certainly I knew at the time that there were things other children had that I didn’t. But never can I recall a time where I felt I was wanting.
Whilst trying to pick a particular memory hundreds came to the fore. The common themes were; being in trees, falling out of trees, charging about like a loon, making tents/ dens as building supplies allowed, getting clarted in mud, and having the time of my life. One prominent memory that pops to mind is the heartfelt but-looking back – somewhat precocious soliloquy I delivered to the cameras of a BBC south-west camera crew about how much better my weekends were, camping in fields and dressing up, over those of my peers inside attached to a computer screen. It is with some small hint of chagrin that I consider fondly how truly I meant that statement however tartly it was delivered.
And so after a bit of searching, I stumble upon my memory of choice. A memory which is one amongst a thousand made over my childhood in a similar vein. A memory which involves my best friend, a roll of gaffa tape and some pipe lagging….Settle….
It was a weekend towards the end of summer term and a last minute decision to allow my best friend Tom S to stay the night resulted in a weekend of awesome fun. Whilst short on funds the Keynko family have never scrimped on imagination or craftiness. And so with swords and spears of gaffa and foam Tom S and I took to the garden for a weekend of chasing any number of imaginary beasts and goblins.
I am lucky enough that the sun soaked memories of these halcion days swamp my memory and drive off any notions of struggle or strife. And so no matter what my financial position may be in later life. My children shall learn the benefits of making their fun, earning their memories and respecting the efforts that have provided them with what they have.”
Words cannot express my pride in the words of my baby boy, and my joy at being his mummy! And the relief that despite being broke, and probably at times a bit rubbish as parent – he had a happy childhood!
Bernard will provide us part 2 next week!