You know, I've always thought that I was a pretty typical little girl growing up...
I played Mommy with my baby dolls (oh, how I loved my dolls!) and then it was Mystery Date with Barbies and my brother's one-armed (he had an accident) G.I. Joe. I was a bookworm and had my nose buried in a book much of the time, but also had a bit of the tomboy and daredevil in me too. I remember riding my bicycle down the street near my school - with no hands, and eyes closed. Yes, I fell. But I was proud to show off my scuffed knees and elbows to my sibs, daring them to give it a try too.
Typical kid stuff.
But this morning I suddenly remembered The Rat.
I played Mommy with my baby dolls (oh, how I loved my dolls!) and then it was Mystery Date with Barbies and my brother's one-armed (he had an accident) G.I. Joe. I was a bookworm and had my nose buried in a book much of the time, but also had a bit of the tomboy and daredevil in me too. I remember riding my bicycle down the street near my school - with no hands, and eyes closed. Yes, I fell. But I was proud to show off my scuffed knees and elbows to my sibs, daring them to give it a try too.
Typical kid stuff.
But this morning I suddenly remembered The Rat.
When I was about 11 or 12 years old, I bought myself a black rubber rat with babysitting money. It had sort of a slick oily look to it, with a long winding tail and beady red eyes. Ugh...gives me the creeps thinking about it. But I slept with that thing! Its name was Oscar.
I'm not sure what I was trying to prove. I suppose I was at an age when I wanted to show that I wasn't a little girl anymore. (Little girls sleep with dolls, not rats.) Plus, growing up as daughter-number-three in a lineup of 7 girls and 2 boys, I think that I was continuously struggling to stand out in some way. I wanted to be unique. The rat made me eccentric, but that was fine too.
I'm not sleeping with rats anymore. (Or at least I try not to very often. :-) But I know that I've got a lot of that doll-loving, book-crazy, risk-taking, attention-craving girl still in me. As an adult, I think that it's important for me to look back often at who I was at 5 and 9 and 12 and ask: What did I like to do? What made me happy? What was I good at? And what did I dream of becoming when I grew up?
In this blog I'll be writing about my quest to become "the best version of myself." But I sometimes wonder if, in some ways, I might have been closer to that best version 40 years ago. Hmm... It's certainly an idea worth exploring.
I'm not sure what I was trying to prove. I suppose I was at an age when I wanted to show that I wasn't a little girl anymore. (Little girls sleep with dolls, not rats.) Plus, growing up as daughter-number-three in a lineup of 7 girls and 2 boys, I think that I was continuously struggling to stand out in some way. I wanted to be unique. The rat made me eccentric, but that was fine too.
I'm not sleeping with rats anymore. (Or at least I try not to very often. :-) But I know that I've got a lot of that doll-loving, book-crazy, risk-taking, attention-craving girl still in me. As an adult, I think that it's important for me to look back often at who I was at 5 and 9 and 12 and ask: What did I like to do? What made me happy? What was I good at? And what did I dream of becoming when I grew up?
In this blog I'll be writing about my quest to become "the best version of myself." But I sometimes wonder if, in some ways, I might have been closer to that best version 40 years ago. Hmm... It's certainly an idea worth exploring.
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p.s. - In case you're wondering, I'm the little girl behind (and above) the sister in the white communion dress. (Click on the photo to enlarge.)
Just 5, but I look so cocky and sure of myself. I want her back!
What a beautiful family! And, yes, you do look like a very self-assured five year old in the picture. Keep on writing and enjoying the process...
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