I often wonder what my children will remember most of their childhoods, will they remember the games we play? the roadtrips? the splashing in the pool or will it be something completely different?
My earliest memory is my third birthday, My parents brought me a teddy bear amongst other things but i only remember this teddy.
I wandered out into the living room and saw this huge (in relation to me) wrapped package sitting on my mums ironing board, i tore at the paper and it revieled a teddy, white with coloured paws, each a different colour.
I loved this bear it came with me everywhere, i took it to bed, complained to it when my parents growled at me, hugged it when we had deaths in the family and confided in it, it was truely a comfort to me.
19 years every night i slept with this bear until 3 weeks before i was due to give birth to Jnr Madhouse, our family dog Sasha crept into our room and removed it from my bed.
According to her and another dog we had at the time it was an awesome tug of war toy. That night they destroyed it, completely ripped it apart. I was sad, heck i was heartbroken but i cant help but think maybe the universe was telling me something.
Maybe it was time to move on? time to let go of my childhood now that i was about to give birth. What ever the reason every night when i crawl into bed i still find myself looking for it, it fit perfectly into the space made infront of my chest as i curl up but that space has now been replaced by something far more special far more important.
I just hope one day my children will be able to replace their comfort blankets with something as special as they are.