It’s the Little Things

The other day, as I was going through my kid’s papers they bring home from school, I came across this gem written by my son Lucas that made my heart melt.

It brought tears to my eyes and made me realize the little things DO matter to my kids. They notice!  I haven’t made buns in so long as it’s a day-long project, but my kids often ask me to.

This letter has given me a kick in the pants today.  I have declared today as stay-at-home and make buns day.  🙂

I also love that he wrote “My Mom likes to scare me.”  We have a fairly new game where I try to scare him, but he always succeeds in scarring me while I’m attempting to scare him.  I am easily frightened so I’m not sure why I thought that game was a good idea.

These little seemingly unimportant day-to-day activities is what shapes childhood memories.  I forgot that!  I have memories of my own mom making buns, and waiting impatiently for the dough to rise on the dining room table.

I remember my mom giving us girls 10 smarties when Mr. Dress Up came on.

I remember my Dad giving me a ride to school in his grain truck when I missed the bus (I was chronically late for the bus), and his grain truck back firing as he pulled away. Actually, I think he could make his grain truck back fire at will and he just did that to make a point not to miss the bus anymore.

I remember after-school afternoons with my Grandma Perkins where we watched “Thunder Cats” followed by “Wheel of Fortune” followed by a game of Skip-Bo.  My Grandma Perkins would always say “Sick-a-Moose” when her cards were bad.

I remember my father helping me pick out my very first car (a little two door mustang) which I paid for with my own money earned through sheep 4-H. It was a standard, which I didn’t know how to drive, but he taught me in 5 minutes and told me to drive home from Bonnyville (where I purchased it) to Vermilion.  I drove part of the way home with the parking brake on.

I remember holding a special glass bottle in the shape of a bear while my sister Roxy washed my hair in the oversized sink.  We would lay back on the counter with our hair in the sink, gripping the glass bottle which we could only hold when we got our hair washed.

I remember the game of counting how many pails of coal it would take to fill up the furnace, and when I think about it, I can still smell the coal within that memory.

I remember looking for our stockings on Christmas morning.  Mom would hide our stockings the night before, and we would find them first thing Christmas morning, and in turn we hid Mom’s.  Mine was usually hidden in the dryer.  With 6 kids, one runs out of hiding places.

Ahhhh, I digress.  The point is…the moments you create that are special and unique to your family is exactly what your kids will remember.  Sometimes one just needs a kick in the pants to remember that.  Thank you Lucas, and I do love you kids to bits.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to run and punch down my dough. 🙂

From my heart to yours,

Christine

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