Ah the memories!

Me holding my little sister D

It's is sort of ironic that this week's theme is childhood. This past week has been filled with memory lane. My sister and I went through pictures and pictures of us throughout our childhood. The conversation got to some very interesting places.

My family is pretty close I would say. I mean my little sister is one of my best friends in the world. My parents have been amazing supports for us through everything. They weren't strict at all. They trusted us. Which, obviously, you cannot do with all kids. But we didn't have a curfew. We weren't restricted in that realm. But somehow we were pretty good kids. I wasn't that much of a partier when I was in high school either. I was pretty attached to the Christian principles my then closest friends followed. After leaving my town for college, I pretty much left that me behind. But my family was one that always let me drink whatever I wanted when I was at home or with my older sister.

My parents have always been under the thought that they wanted us to make our own mistakes because that was the only way we would figure anything out about the world. Yea, sure we went through a lot as a family even. Losing a lot of people close to us in car accidents and to cancer and so on. My dad and mom have had their issues too. I am not going to lie. That has definitely affected the person I am today. But I can't blame them. We are all human.

I remember being such a happy child. I guess that has always been a part of my personality. Always smiling and talking non-stop.

There was one point we reached in our conversation that was really interesting. I am pretty open about the fact that my dad went to prison when I was 5 or 6 (I can't remember). Well we were sitting around talking about that. I told my mother I remembered him being gone. I remember sitting with my little radio player listening to music and crying because I missed my dad. I remember visiting him. I remember the day he was arrested. I remembered seeing the cops making my dad lay on the ground and put his hands behind his back so they could handcuff  him as I peered down the staircase from our living room. My mom was shocked to know that I remembered all of this.

My sister said that she didn't remember anything at all about it, so she uses it as a funny joke most of the time.  She then proceeded to make a joke out of that even, lol. She said, "It's like mom had this traumatizing experience. You had a ghetto childhood where you cried about your dad being in prison. I just don't remember a thing so I am unaffected."

Leave it too my sister to make a weird conversation so light and such a non-matter. If I haven't said enough yet... I love my family.

I've had a sort of weird childhood I guess. But probably not nearly as bad as some may have had. One thing I know is even if my parents struggled with money more than we do now, I had no idea about it. We always had a  house to live in. We always had food on the table, and we always had clothes to wear. My parents have always done everything possible to take care of the family.

( From left to right, Top: Petra- our foreign exchange student from Czech Republic, my older sister A, my dad, my brother M, and my mom. Bottom: my little sister D, and me)

As one of the middle children I was always seeking attention, trying to find my place. I was definitely the loud one, yelling at the person with the camera to take a picture of me. I always did whatever my older brother and sister told me to because I have and always will want to please everyone. However, showing my scorpio self, I did try to be in charge of some things... always bossing my sister and our little friend around during "school" or "house" or "Spice Girls" (oh goodness, the shame). I have always been unfailingly honest. I simply have never been able to lie. The one time I thought I had it my dad definitely tricked me into telling the truth. Since I was young I have always been a contradiction within itself. I am a studious person, always wanting to learn, a bookworm. But I also have always had this, let's say, "ditzy" quality. Always bouncing around the place, not hearing what people are saying, making lots and lots of mistakes (once I cuts my sister's hair because I got very very into the character of playing barbershop).

Again, as that middle child I always wanted to have my thing (besides my quirky personality). I tried all the sports my little sister tried. I couldn't draw like my other siblings. I couldn't sing. I tried the normal stuff. I wasn't very good at sports besides softball. But I still was only average there. I craved for something that would make people notice me. But behind it all I didn't know that I did have my thing. I have and always will be a writer. Grammar and english classes came naturally to me rather than math and science. I always had a million diaries and journals in my room, hidden away under my bed. I didn't really realize my "thing" until I was writing scholarship essays. I had my dad look over on that I had written for the school I was going to attend. He came back to me and said that he was shocked. Where has this writer been? I had never shown him anything I had written before because my little sister had already claimed the artsy thing. She was good, and she liked to write too. So I never showed anyone anything.

The little girl running around screaming for attention didn't really need that attention anymore (for the most part! haha). I had found that thing that I was good at and I didn't really need anyone to acknowledge it. Although, I can't deny I would like to get something published and have it be like by at least one person . :p

Have a great week everyone!

<3 T