Throwing it All the Way Back

Recently I have been looking at old pictures from when I was younger. I'm going to say this in the most modest way possible, I was adorable. I honestly don't know what happened. Life was so simple and magical back then. I honestly believed in the mythical, spoiler alert, Santa, tooth fairy, and Easter bunny. Not only that, but it seems like I had no concept of embarrassment. Now I'm grown up, and am constantly feeling the reddening of my cheeks that occurs with an awkward moment. In this time of great stress and worry, I've decided to throw it back a little to some of my favorite memories of a simpler time. Besides, Thursday, as in throwback Thursday, is the fourth day of the week, and hey, it's fourth quarter!

Me running from a bear... probably

The first memory I'm going to share is of my family's so called "bear hunts." I have no idea how our parents thought of the idea, whether it was a tradition passed down from their childhoods, or we just had too much energy one night, but every once in a while all five of us would grab a flashlight, and head into our large yard at night to look for bears. We sing a stupid song that was both short and repetitive until we made it all the way around the house. Some nights we would even do multiple laps. Despite the lightness of it all, I was always certain that we were going to catch a bear. Even after an abundance of bear hunts where we came back empty handed, I felt there was no doubt that we would run into a bear in the middle of our yard. Looking back, a couple of questions come to mind. Specifically, Why did we want to catch a bear? When we were to encounter said bear, we would be empty handed, save for a flashlight. How were we going to capture/protect ourselves from this bear? Not once did we find a bear (thankfully), but I will always have fond memories my determination, and feeling of invincibility that came with hunting dangerous beasts with my family.

Second is another story from my backyard. After all,  backyards are places of infinite wonder and possibilities to younger kids. So in my backyard, we have a sand box. I'm almost debating putting that last statement into the past, because slowly it has become nothing more than a litter box for the neighborhood cats. Despite that, back in the glory days my siblings and I spent a lot of time there. And out favorite sand box activity? Flooding it. My brothers and I would build an elaborate kingdom, and then starting with just one small lake or river, we would start adding water features until it looked like the set from Water World. If you haven't purposely flooded, and in turn ruined, a small sandbox, I am tempted to say you haven't lived.

Lastly, I remember the nights I pretended to fall asleep at random locations in the house just so my mom or dad would carry me to my room. For example, one night I couldn't fall asleep and I heard my mom in the kitchen. I decided to get out of bed and lay on the kitchen floor with my eyes closed until someone carried me back to my room. All was going as planned, I was about to be picked up by my mom when Charlie (my twin brother with a most excellent blog) sleep walked his way to where we were standing. We asked him what he was doing, unaware that he was unconscious. He then turned around and walked right into our kitchen counter. Being young and short at the time, he hit his head pretty badly. I faintly remember him crying as my mom carried him back to bed, but by that time most of my surroundings were blacked out by my rage. I didn't care if my brother had hurt his head! I just wanted to be carried back to bed. Me being the ridiculous child I was, I stood there waiting for about another five minutes until I realized that my mom wasn't coming back for me. I still hold a grudge to this day. I'll never forget.

You think we are sleeping? Nope. Acting.

Sorry for the long post. I hope you make it through the large amount of stress these coming weeks. Just take deep breaths and try to remember a time when your biggest problem was getting the wrong flavor of popsicle.