Nov 15, 2008

Don't Break the Ice

Jameson and I are playing some late night "Don't Break the Ice." As a kid, I played this game probably a thousand times over all the visits to my grandparents' farm. It was practically a ritual for me, my siblings and dozens of my cousins. With little effort I can picture myself laying halfway across my grandmother's kitchen table, feet planted in one of her chairs with those coin-like eagle emblems, eye to eye with one of my cousins as the plastic ice pieces rattle off of the table surface.

Even my favorite read at grandma and grandpa's house, Big Dog, Little Dog, is now one of Jameson's favorites. (Any family members out there remember that one? Or what was your favorite selection from Virginia's library?)

I'm not sure exactly what it says about tradition, or the passage of time, or what not, but these little bridges to my childhood are one of my favorite parts of parenting. Maybe it makes me appreciate all the little moments with my kids knowing that one day any little thing may be part of what my kids consider the fabric of their childhood. Mostly it's probably just that I love the trips back to a time and place that I so thoroughly cherish.

So is it selfish of me to even introduce these childhood favorites to my kids knowing that much of it is because of the nostalgia high it brings me? Or are these things just part of who I am and all the more reason to share them with my children?

In the end it probably doesn't matter -- it's not like there is anything from my youth so sacred that Hollywood and Madison Avenue won't eventually try to shove down my kids' throats for me anyway. :)

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