Field Trips

Jeanna GLeave a comment

I’m a ‘Been There, Done That” kind of gal, so I’m usually looking for new things to do, or ways to make old things new. However, I make exceptions when it comes to sharing previous experiences with my daughter. There are so many things I’ve done that I think my daughter would also enjoy, so I make it a point to recreate some of my childhood experiences for her.

I had such an opportunity this past weekend while she and I were back in Connecticut visiting family. We arrived on a weekday, so while my relatives were working and in school, I decided to take my daughter on one of my childhood field trips. I was about her age when my class took a field trip to Mystic Aquarium. She and I love sea animals, so I knew she’d be game. Sure enough, she had a ball running alongside the beluga whales, clapping along with the sea lions, and petting the stingrays. Afterwards, we went to Mystic Pizza where I could reminisce more from my childhood. Then we shopped around and got some ice cream, because that’s just what you do in a town like Mystic.

Baby Beluga!

Field trips from childhood are definitely worth repeating with your own children, especially if you no longer live in the town where you grew up. It’s fun to go back and take in what has changed and what has withstood the test of time. After so many years, an old experience was practically new, and just as fun. Next time I will stay longer so that she and I can take field trips to the Mark Twain House and Sturbridge Village.

What were your childhood field trips?

Reel Time

Jeanna GLeave a comment

One of my first jobs was working at the Video Galaxy, renting out VHS tapes to my friends and neighbors. I also worked for Mike’s Video in college, and later for Blockbuster. Needless to say, I’ve watched a lot of movies in my time. I’ve been so busy raising my daughter and working multiple jobs over the last decade, that I haven’t seen many new movies or tv series…outside of cartoons, anyway.

I keep seeing things on social media about these Netflix binges, and it seemed like such a nice thought to lie on my couch and not get up for days, that I made a New Year’s Resolution to watch more TV. Honestly! I just want to be home and lie on my couch and enjoy being still. So I forced myself to sit and watch a few different series that had been recommended, but then I hit a speed bump. There are so many options and streaming services, that I just felt overwhelmed and didn’t know where to go from there. Plus, I’m never quite sure if it’s a show I can watch while my daughter’s awake, never mind if she’s in the room with me. So, I decided to forget television shows, and take it back to what I know… movies.

My daughter and I have become self-proclaimed movie critics. We’ve been watching all of the best movies from my childhood, the 80s and early 90s, and it has been amazing! I love that we laugh at the same parts and gasp together and cry on cue. We watched the Molly Ringwald/John Hughes’ movies, Dirty Dancing, Jaws, Footloose, Pretty Woman, and The Princess Bride, among many others, with plenty more in queue. The more we watch, the more I feel at home. And not just a location, but a feeling of contentment. A feeling that I am back where I belong. And bonus! I’m with the person I love the most, and she gets to have a glimpse into who I was when I was her age.

Sometimes we have to go back to who we were to remember who and where we want to be now. And we can go back in lots of ways, not just through movies. My daughter and I sing along to music from my childhood that is now, shockingly, qualified as “classic.” I also read her books that I first read thirty-something years ago. And then there are the toys and games and hobbies and so much more. I love rediscovering these old loves, but I love, even more, that she loves them just as much.

The Scraps of Life

Jeanna G5 Comments

Under my bed is a dusty storage bin filled with a bunch of things I can’t seem to let go of. I always thought I needed to save certain things, but I’m not entirely sure why. My parents saved a bunch of my things when I was young, like my report cards and Christmas cards from my grandparents, ticket stubs and blankie scraps, and about twenty paintings from Kindergarten…all of rainbows. So maybe they kick-started the idea. But I suppose I’m a bit sentimental, too. I have my yearbooks and varsity letters, the first rose, albeit dried, from my high school sweetheart, newspaper clippings, photos, button pins, letters from friends, family, and former students…all fragments of a whole, the pieces I choose to cling to, the parts of me that I want to continue to be.

My daughter also holds on to stuff, and in an effort to contain it, I suggested that she also start a memorabilia box. Maybe it’s a family tradition? We’ve decided to put a scrapbook together to include all of her certificates and class photos and drawings.

I don’t really save any new stuff for me anymore, except my photo books. Now I save scraps of stuff for my daughter, like my parents did for me. I’ve kept a clipping from her first hair cut, a clay mold of her infant-sized hand and a mitten that used to fit that tiny hand, an ink stamp of her newborn feet, and her sonogram photos. I also have a baby book, that I over-filled out, and I’ve been keeping a journal about things that have gone on since I knew I was pregnant with her.

Why do I keep these things? For validation? Proof that I lived? Proof that I had a good and meaningful life? And what about her stuff? Evidence that she had a good life…thanks to her mom? Clearly, considering the theme of my blog, remembering my past, remembering who I was and where I came from, is important to me. And I think it should be equally important to my daughter. At least, I hope it is.

I think remembering where we came from is what creates our life map; it directs our future. It reminds us of what we’re capable of, and what we truly love and value.

Based on what my parents saved, I imagine they wanted me to know how smart and artistic I was, as well as how optimistic and loved I was… and am. I save my favorite paintings by my daughter, as well. Her imagination is wild and her vision is clear.

I keep thinking I should sift through my box and toss stuff out. After all it’s just a bunch of leftovers, scraps to box up. But maybe instead of boxing it up or tossing it out, I should display it. Why not have a constant reminder, or motivation, to be someone that I love?