My girls are almost 5, which totally freaks me out.
No longer are they toddlers, and they are teetering on the outer edge of being preschoolers. They talk about kindergarten everyday, and it is brought on by just about any topic. They are trying and trying to be independent, and I'm trying and trying to let them.
Five was a big year for me. I was thinking back this week to my own childhood, and some of my biggest memories (including the most trouble I have ever been in so far in my life) was when I was five years old. To say I was precocious is probably an understatement, and knowing I have one just like me is probably justice served.
1. The Canal
I lived out in farm country, and our property was next to a very large canal. We lived in Arizona, and the canals were for irrigation, and they were very large. The width of a city road, and deep enough to have a strong current. We didn't have a lot of neighbors, but I did have a friend that lived across the canal from me.
One day she came over, and told me her dog was lost. I knew I needed to help her, but I did not tell my mother. We had to cross the canal to get to her house, and so we did.
On a wooden plank about a foot wide.
There and back.
I think about my own girls doing that now, and my heart sinks to my stomach. Now I can finally appreciate how scared my mom must have been, and why I got into SO much trouble.
2. The Fire Department
It was definitely a different time then. My mom left me and my younger siblings (4, 2, and a baby) while she ran down the road to *I think* take dinner to someone. That detail is a little foggy. I do remember her leaving though, and telling me that there were beans in the crockpot in the kitchen, and to just leave them alone.
I don't know how much time passed, but all of a sudden, smoke was pouring out of the kitchen. I just knew it was a fire, and had to do something. I ran to the phone, and not being sure of my address, grabbed a letter near the phone and looked at the return address. I called the fire department, gave them our address, told them our house was on fire, then hung up. Then I grabbed the kids, put them in a wagon, and pulled them out to our fire meeting spot by the mailbox.
I can only imagine my mother's thoughts as she pulled up to our house, with fire trucks sitting in the driveway. Thankfully there was not a fire--the beans had just spilled over, but I think I would be mortified. And grateful.
3. Bananas
Some of you may know that I hate bananas. I would rather eat liver than bananas. I would rather eat worms than bananas. I am still a good mother and buy bananas, but only the green ones. As soon as they have brown on them, out they go. My poor husband--his favorite thing is banana bread, and I just cannot bring myself to make it. I've had friends take pity on him and bring him some, and my mom always makes it for him when she's here (when I'm out of the house), but I know he wishes he could have it more often. Not going to happen.
I'm pretty sure this strong dislike dates back to when I was 5 years old, and raided the pantry. I ate my little self through a HUGE bag of dried banana chips. That was enough to receive the eternal punishment of not being able to ever smell a banana again.
.....
5 years old. It's a big year.
No longer are they toddlers, and they are teetering on the outer edge of being preschoolers. They talk about kindergarten everyday, and it is brought on by just about any topic. They are trying and trying to be independent, and I'm trying and trying to let them.
Five was a big year for me. I was thinking back this week to my own childhood, and some of my biggest memories (including the most trouble I have ever been in so far in my life) was when I was five years old. To say I was precocious is probably an understatement, and knowing I have one just like me is probably justice served.
1. The Canal
I lived out in farm country, and our property was next to a very large canal. We lived in Arizona, and the canals were for irrigation, and they were very large. The width of a city road, and deep enough to have a strong current. We didn't have a lot of neighbors, but I did have a friend that lived across the canal from me.
One day she came over, and told me her dog was lost. I knew I needed to help her, but I did not tell my mother. We had to cross the canal to get to her house, and so we did.
On a wooden plank about a foot wide.
There and back.
I think about my own girls doing that now, and my heart sinks to my stomach. Now I can finally appreciate how scared my mom must have been, and why I got into SO much trouble.
2. The Fire Department
It was definitely a different time then. My mom left me and my younger siblings (4, 2, and a baby) while she ran down the road to *I think* take dinner to someone. That detail is a little foggy. I do remember her leaving though, and telling me that there were beans in the crockpot in the kitchen, and to just leave them alone.
I don't know how much time passed, but all of a sudden, smoke was pouring out of the kitchen. I just knew it was a fire, and had to do something. I ran to the phone, and not being sure of my address, grabbed a letter near the phone and looked at the return address. I called the fire department, gave them our address, told them our house was on fire, then hung up. Then I grabbed the kids, put them in a wagon, and pulled them out to our fire meeting spot by the mailbox.
I can only imagine my mother's thoughts as she pulled up to our house, with fire trucks sitting in the driveway. Thankfully there was not a fire--the beans had just spilled over, but I think I would be mortified. And grateful.
3. Bananas
Some of you may know that I hate bananas. I would rather eat liver than bananas. I would rather eat worms than bananas. I am still a good mother and buy bananas, but only the green ones. As soon as they have brown on them, out they go. My poor husband--his favorite thing is banana bread, and I just cannot bring myself to make it. I've had friends take pity on him and bring him some, and my mom always makes it for him when she's here (when I'm out of the house), but I know he wishes he could have it more often. Not going to happen.
I'm pretty sure this strong dislike dates back to when I was 5 years old, and raided the pantry. I ate my little self through a HUGE bag of dried banana chips. That was enough to receive the eternal punishment of not being able to ever smell a banana again.
.....
5 years old. It's a big year.
5 comments:
I remember we had much more freedom growing up then my kids do now - but I think you took your five year old independence to a whole new level!!
I am impressed you have such a great memory of being 5. I remember pushing a girl off the porch and that is it. Ha, great friend i was.
Your poor mom, the canal, and the fire truck. I can only imagine her pain in her heart for those brief moments.
It definitely was a different time, eh. That canal story--WOW. Your mom must have been so scared.
I'm sure your little girls are so excited about school.
all too funny - crazy the things we remember - poor old me can't remember a thing!!! fun to have SOOO many memories. Wonder what your girls will be saying about when they were 5...
What an amazing memory you have!! I am impressed! I truly don't think I could recall one memory from that age! Such great stories too- maybe that's why they are engraved in your brain!
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