There are plenty of mundane mornings and task-filled evenings. And there are plenty of minutes and hours of magic, wonder, and weird amazement that envelops our time these days. Almost always, it’s as if the same moments didn’t just happen. Or maybe they did, but they didn’t hold the same weight 50 something days in as they did 70 something days in, and instead of combusting, there are times when discovery happens instead.
A few days ago, the kids found a forgotten coloring book with stickers, and a poster in a pile of art stuff stacked on the bottom shelf of their art rack. A day later, we ran into Oak’s teacher, who gifted him a passed down double-coloring book that also had posters. Soon enough, they were hoping to scavenge tape and layer the posters on their walls.
I try not to look at my children with nostalgia as often as I once did, in fear I may be pulling away from the unique situation that is today, but I couldn’t help it.
I was 11 and 12 when posters of The Spice Girls, B2K, and any other artist I was compulsively obsessed with loaded my walls. My side of the room was inarguably mine. My sister’s was hers. And while River taught Oak how to tape the poster at the corners, so it wouldn’t leave marks , I’m not sure I expected this so soon. More than that, I’d forgotten about this stage in childhood and teenage life entirely.
Discovering things is one thing. Rediscovering them (these days, in particular) is an entirely different thing.
Filing it as: Remember that one time there was a pandemic and you stayed home from school and plastered posters on the walls against the new bunkbed and imagined robots were rocking us in canopies to sleep when you drifted off?
Any new discoveries in your family, lately?