My childhood is fuzzy. I remember some things perfectly and others have disappeared completely. I’m kinda looking forward to losing my short-term memory so my long-term memory can be rediscovered! (joking, kinda).

It’s the everyday things that go first. What did I wear? Where did I go on holidays in 1987? What did I talk to my friends about when I was in second grade at school?

Having a child starting school brings back all those FEELINGS. One mum said the playground gives her the heebie geeebies. I think I loved learning but did I love school? I remember being scared to go to swimming lessons at school because I had changed groups. This meant diving to the bottom of the deep end of the pool and picking up those sinking hoops. It terrified me. I cried. I remember that.

School playgrounds - love them or hate them?


I don’t remember my third grade teacher because he was nice. My fourth grade teacher, I remember. He used to fall asleep in class while we watched TV. Then we moved, things changed. I remember the changes, not the rhythm of life so much.

I really don’t know how people write their autobiography. How do they remember all the details? It must be a combination of research, talking to people who were there and their own fractured memories. Not a very reliable document, really.

Wouldn’t it be great to put it all together? Maybe it wouldn’t be very interesting in the end and I’d be left disappointed. I’d like to meet myself as a kid and ask a million questions and give that little girl some encouragement.

I love making great childhood memories for my kids. Even if they don’t remember them, I want them to have good feelings about this time. I want them to feel loved, secure and understood. Perhaps I can ask them my million questions and they may help fill in some of the blanks.

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