Until it Sticks

I have no post in my mind. Just typing to see what happens.

We used to have to write our stream of conscious in 7th grade as an exercise in class. I loved doing this, but was always suspicious that the teacher was just nosy and wanted into my personal business. My VERY IMPORTANT 7th grade business. Ahem.

Lots of childhood memories have been seeping into the foreground these days. Seeing my own son grow and change so fast has me thinking. He is going to be a KID soon. Not a baby, but a real living breathing, running, yelling, dirty kid. With his own childhood memories. What will they be? I am dying to know.

I washed his little legs tonight in the bath. They are perfect. Not a blemish. Someday in the near future they will have scrapes, bumps, and bruises from running amuck. There was a stretch of years where my legs were a wreck from all the playing I did. Battle scars from a rich kid life. Well—not $rich$—but you know what I mean.

I removed the baby-toe-fuzz from his perfect little toes, and savored their loveliness. SAVORED. Toe jam. Yes I did. Because they are actually going to be used for walking/running/jumping one day, and their pristine goodness will be only a baby bathtime snapshot in my mind. I know I will always remember them as they are now.

I wonder if his memory will work like mine. Clips from a movie. Snapshots. Storyboards. I can’t hear my memories very well. I can’t always remember just what was said. But I can see them.

My parents had this water-bed that my brother and I used to sail on. We would squish our little bodies into laundry baskets, swaying back and forth on the waves. I don’t know where we went to, but the journey there was a blast. The memory is vivid.

What will be vivid to Benton when he looks back on his kid life? I hope he remembers it with a grin. He still has a few years until stuff sticks. So I will try to keep his memories as best as I can until then.


7 responses to “Until it Sticks

  1. He is so precious, and although some may think that chronicling a child’s life via the Internet is a bad thing, I think it’s a good one. One day, when he is grown, he will look back and smile at all the lovely things his momma said about him, in addition to his memories. I wish I had that. Lucky little boy!

  2. Oh, I love you so much for appreciating the toe jam. Really, I do. xoxo

  3. Benton's Grandpa

    Very “rich” memories coming out of your stream of consciousness. Yes, you two sure had a ton of fun together, getting banged up sometimes. Lucky your mom was/is a nurse! My personal best memory in connection with that water bed was when we replaced it but I hung onto that empty water-bed bladder. Later I somehow had the bright idea to fill it up real thick with air with a vacuum cleaner running in reverse, then used it as an air “spring” to propel you (and others) high into the air and into my arms out in the yard (or on the beach, flinging each other into the water) when someone else jumped on the other end! Remember that?!!

    Maybe you’ll let me show Benton how to do that someday. I came across that same old rubberized water-bed bladder you and Jordan “sailed” on after all these years just before moving to Australia a few years ago, and I think I may have kept it in storage in Indiana! -Dad

  4. I love this post, and your memories. I don’t always see my memories, but I can smell them.

  5. Hmmm, not sure how I “remember” memories….you’ve made me think. I have an aunt who says she can’t look at her kids’ old baby pictures because they make her cry. They make her miss those days. I wonder how I’ll feel when Elise is all grown up.

  6. i don’t hear memories, either. i see them as visual shorts. like silent movies, almost.

    but you know what’s amazing? i was getting some of emma’s old clothes out for lucy, and emma (i didn’t tell her that they were her old clothes) said, “ooh, i used to wear this pie shirt. and this pink heart lindsey [onesie]. and remember those footie pajamas? i wore those on christmas!” and she did. she did all of that. she knew. i’m sure those memories will fade as her little brain makes room for more memories, but the fact that she remembered stuff from when she was 6 months old makes me smile.

    and her legs in the summer? atrocious.
    and her 3.5 year old feet? stink.
    and her toe jam? so gross.

    and i still love it all just as much as i did when they were perfect and bruiseless and sweet-smelling. 🙂

  7. this is all true and all beautiful.

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