When I was a kid....

During the Christmas holidays, with all of my men home, there was lots of bantering, busting and laughter. Sounds that remind me of how blessed I am to have such a loving, close family....yes there is "fun" in our dysfunction!

At one of those times, my sons asked me what did I like to do as a kid. Wow, I haven't thought about my childhood in a long time. It was a moment of reflection and reminiscing, with a flood of snippets of the fun I had in my youth: outdoors from sunrise to sunset, which the day seemed to last forever. Most days without much supervision from grown ups, yet, there were eyes from the neighbors who watched everyone's child, not

just their own. Activities so very typical of childhood: biking, swinging, running, skating, climbing, swimming and games galore.

My family lived near a river and I would spend plenty of summer days fishing. I had a small fishing pole that my parents bought for me and I would dig or look under rocks for worms. All of the fish would go back to the river, except for one day. I took a bunch of fish I caught and put them in my baby sister's plastic kiddy pool. Boy was my mom upset! This is all so funny now for you will never see me touch a worm or a fish without a glove!

When the weather wasn't nice, I loved to read, color, draw and play with dolls. I especially loved playing with paper dolls. Do you remember paper dolls? During my childhood, there wasn't many channels on the television and if the family watched together, my siblings or I was the "clicker". Little did we know that the choices for activities would increase and change over time.

My sons asked about my favorite activities during my adolescence. Music was definitely one of my favorite past times. Blasting it from my room, I was able to separate myself from the rest of the world. And writing, boy did I love to write: journals, poetry, short stories. Just lost my time in letters and notes. Those days seemed to last forever as well.

When I was done traveling through memory lane, it dawned on me, that I forgot what I loved to do. How much writing was more than shopping lists and paper reminders. How I needed to reconnect to the written word. That there is more to expressing myself than just texting. To stop and reflect. Reflect and write. To write and publish. And to begin the process all over again. Building upon what was already written. To expand and grow.

So instead of the pen and a journal, the keyboard and a blog. Instead of blasting a record from a stereo, music from You Tube through my headphones. Some things don't change, do they?