Most of the blogs I read have a theme. They are mommy blogs, foodie blogs, travel blogs or funny blogs. I’m not sure if I should establish some sort of theme for this blog or not. I mean, if you put it all together, it would just be stories of me, and some of those stories are mommy stories, travel stories, or funny stories. You won’t find any foodie stories here, friends, so keep moving if that’s what you’re looking for.
I don’t think I’ve lived enough to merit a memoir or anything. But I think today, I will just tell you a story from my childhood. So grab a drink and some popcorn, ’cause here we go, folks.
A couple of nights ago (I know, I said a story from my childhood, but I’m giving you the background on where it came from!), I was putting the Ladybug to bed. We’ve gotten into a habit of reading books and then I sit with her for ‘fie mimnets’ before she falls asleep. On this particular night, I said, “What did you do today?” And, lo and behold, the child answered me! With a real, honest-to-goodness sentence, and not just ‘yeah.’ She told me she had gone to the swimming pool and it was fun!! That may sound just as precious as it can be to you, but really, you must imagine it in the voice of a two-year old who really said, “poo, daddy, sim, it fun!” Now, that is adorable!
It got me thinking about the experts who say that your first memories start forming as your language develops- there is a direct correlation and what not. And that thought made me a little sad because I remember my first memory. I know I wasn’t much older than the Ladybug, if at all. The memory was so fuzzy that once, as a teenager, I had to ask my mom if she knew if it was real or if I had imagined it. She assured me, it was real.
You may or may not know that I have a sperm donor. I am one of the luckiest girls alive in that my daddy picked me after my biological ‘father’ (we’ll use the term loosely) decided that he wasn’t quite ready for kids… when I was two. My mom met and married a man who never once treated me like I wasn’t his, even when I really wanted him to so I’d have a reason to be angry and throw a temper tantrum… which I did love to do. I have had limited contact with the SD- he sent some cards and a few letters through the years. He actually lives pretty close to my best friend, though I don’t really care to find out how close. I have never had the desire to meet him, mainly because of this tiny, first memory.
The two of us were sitting at the diner that used to be across the street from my grandmother’s house. I was eating a grilled cheese and french fries. According to my mom (who may have been a tad bit biased), he was probably trying to pick up chicks (there is a very real possibility that this worked, as I was an incredibly adorable child).
That’s it, really. That’s the whole memory. But he left not long after that. And I can’t imagine walking away from the Ladybug and the Sprout, not now, not ever.
I hope that the Ladybug’s first memories are wonderful ones- swimming in the pool with her daddy, reading with her mommy, playing with her friends, etc. I can’t wait to see what they’ll be.
What was your first memory? Was it a good one or a not-so-pleasant one? Have you ever asked your parents if it really happened the way you remembered?