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#Blogtober Day 14: Favorite Childhood Memory

I had quite a happy childhood, which I've touched on previously, growing up in Maine.  Both of my parents worked full-time, so my brothers and I stayed with my grandmother who lived down the road, most days.  We played games, fought, went for walks, fought, helped bake and cook for my grandfather, and fought some more.  My brothers and I fought.  My grandmother tried to wrangle us all.  Now that I'm all growed up, I also my brothers, who at the time, made my life hell, were also a pretty big part of the happy memories.  But not in the traditional sense.  I think my top five from childhood would be….
  • The time that my brothers, who are both older than me (5 and 9 years older), were fighting so bad over their baseball card collection, for multiple days.  My grandmother got so tired of listening to it, that she marked each of their cards with a "W" or a "J" in the upper right corner.  If they were worth anything to begin with, they weren't after that.  We still have them at my grandfather's house, and that was the last time they fought to such extremes on anything. 
Me and my Dad circa 1986
  • Going out to breakfast with my dad at the ass-crack of dawn every Saturday.  For those who don't know,  the sun rises in Maine very early if you are 30 minutes away from the easternmost point in the country.  Like, 5:30 early.  Restaurants also open when the sun rises because all the old men are up and ready to work for the day by first daylight.  It started out, that my dad would rotate between me and my brothers each weekend.  But they were older, and at some point in their teenage years, it wasn't fun for them to get up and go to eat with Dad.  So it was always me.  Even during my teenage years, when I would roll out of bed, get in the vehicle, and not speak for the entire time we were out.  And then would go back to bed as soon as I got home.  Now when I go home, I specifically plan it so we are there for at least one Saturday, so I can get up and go to breakfast with him.  We talk more now.  I fully intend on continuing this tradition with my future offspring, and/or making my husband continue it as well.
  • Koosh ball (remember those things?!) fights with my brothers.  I was reminded of this one when we went to Maine this summer.  A light came on in Scott's truck and we figured we'd get it checked out before trying to drive 1500 miles back down to Florida with 3 dogs.  While at the dealership, we ran into one of my brother's friends from grade- and high-school.  Who proceeded to tell my husband about the koosh-ball fights we had growing up.  It was always me and my oldest brother against my middle brother and his friend.  We'd build "forts" to hide behind in the hallway between our rooms.  The teams were always me and my oldest brother against my middle brother and his friend.  My oldest brother is legally blind.  My middle brother was a baseball pitcher.  His friend, the catcher. Me and my oldest brother always lost.  And always came away with welts from these damn koosh balls.
All grown up!!
  • When I was approximately 6 years old, my middle brother snapped my neck (essentially, whiplash) trying out a "new" wrestling move on me.  I had a neck brace and the "no wrestling" rule was quickly instituted in our house hold.  My brother's catcher-friend from above also witnessed this, and told the story to my husband.  Being confirmed by an independent third party, Scott said "I thought you were just being a drama queen with all these stories.  Now I kind of believe you."  Vindication!!
  • The fifth is a toss up.  Somewhere between helping my dad build his sawmill, and expeditions with my middle brother into "Binky Mansion."  I almost gave my 4th grade teacher a heart attack as she drove past and saw me standing on a roof, nailing shingles down with Dad.  And my cat that would follow us up the ladder.  Binky Mansion is the woods behind our house that my middle brother had a (very basic) tree house in.  Really, playing back there was one of the few times that we would get along.  One time he showed me how to burst the sap pockets on one of the maple trees.  I couldn't figure out where the sap was going.  Turns out, it was going into my hair, which resulted in a very terrible last minute haircut from my mother. 
It turns out that my favorite stories from my childhood tend to be the ones where my brothers and I got into some sort of trouble.  Now my middle brother has a kid and my oldest brother is running for State Legislature. (Shameless link to his Facebook page which will eventually be a blog of his own if he listens to me.)  We've all got happy little lives and have come a long way from the days of pile drivers and general disdain for each other.
Helene in Between Blogtober


  1. It\s nice that you remembered so many memories! I only mentioned one in my post.

  2. Hahah my short term memory sucks! But I can remember a lot from many years ago!

  3. I have 2 brothers as well. We use to whip the Koosh balls at each other. I wonder if they still make them?

  4. I'm not sure if they still make them, but I'm fairly certain eBay would have some to offer.

  5. Remember during the Ice Storm of '98 we spent the entire day skating down the hill by your dad's workshop? And I remember many Sunday mornings at Helen's after a sleepover and Jazz Jackrabbit.

  6. For real, it was ALL day long. I was much more animated the Saturdays you were with us. But good God I HATED getting up that early. You of course, were used to it :)


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