“Let’s PLAY!”

“Let’s PLAY!”

By: BA @ Kids Matter

I lived in a small town when I was growing up; in a quiet neighborhood where everyone knew each other. We moved to that neighborhood when I was about four years old, and lived there until the summer of my senior year in high school. It was a nice, new, white house with a big yard, driveway to ride my bike, and roller skate. There were kids to play with… and summertime was just the best.

In those days,  school got out at the beginning of June and did not go back into session until the day after Labor Day. Ah, those were the days, my friend. If you have never had the opportunity to have a summer break for that long you have really missed out on something great. Summers would stretch out in front of us like a long and winding road. It was the days of sleeping in, eating breakfast late, watching “Howdy Doody” and “Uncle Al” then hitting the great outdoors for endless hours of pure enjoyment, fantasy, and magic. I had to be  practically dragged in for lunch and supper. Often, my mother would let me eat lunch on the front porch. I couldn’t stand to miss a moment of what was happening outside!

Play was the name of the game!  My best friend lived down the street and we literally spent every waking minute together. I walked to her house or she walked to mine.. And, we were followed everywhere by our pets.  I had a beagle named Missy and she had a little bulldog named Skipper.

 At my house, we played dolls and each of us had a “house” on either side of the front porch.  We had tea parties and dressed up in our mother’s (donated) high heels, jewelry, and dresses.  If we played bride then sheer curtains were our dress and veil. We also played with our doll houses under the big tree in the front yard. Sometimes we were allowed to play in the sprinkler and would laugh and squeal as the cold water sprayed us.

 She lived on a farm (yes, there was one in town) and at her house we spent hours riding our bicycles up and down the long driveway, making a playhouse out of the chicken coop, looking for little fish in the stream that ran through the property, climbing trees, and putting on  talent shows on the loading chute.  We also mastered walking along the top rail of the horse fence surrounding the property.

At night, we played hide and seek and hunted lightening bugs. We walked the railroad tracks that ran through our neighborhood. Our mother’s didn’t worry about us because if we did anything wrong, a neighbor would be there to reprimand and then tell our parents! Neighbors were also there to lend a hand if we got hurt or when we needed someone to talk to. I was an only child and my friend had two sisters and a brother.  It seemed like one huge family. It was a great time to be a kid! 

We each had to be home by 10:00 p.m. to wash up and go to bed. There was no such thing as air conditioning so it was shorty pajamas and a black metal fan to cool me on those long hot nights. I would drift off listening to the sound of that fan. I never remember being uncomfortable (probably because I was so tired from playing all day). 

As we grew older our playtime changed; boys became part of our growing circle of friends. We played wiffle ball and had endless tournaments. We challenged kids from other neighborhoods to play against us.  At night we would play badminton, or my all-time favorite, croquette. We were allowed to walk to the library and stop for ice cream at the “ten cent store”. If it was a rainy day, we would meet on my friend’s covered front porch and play board games.  Anyone who came by would stop and play. 

Soon we became interested in those boys that we had been playing with for years.  They magically started to look different in our eyes and we developed secret crushes on a new boy every week. We walked to the local movie theater. The boys sat behind us and would later follow us to the drug store for a coke. We spent Saturday mornings at the local bowling alley.  The boys were there, too.  We went to the local pool and sure enough, those boys would show up and show off. If there was a slumber party, you could bet that boys would be hiding outside and tapping on the window until someone’s mother caught them and sent them running home.  Being a “tween” in the summer was so much fun. It was all so sweet and innocent. It was all so easy and peaceful.   

My friend and I shared many, many, many summers together… many good times that we will never forget. When we entered high school we each had different activities. She was a cheerleader and I was a color guard in the band.  Our friends grew to include lots and lots of other people and we slowly began to drift apart. Her life went one way and mine went another. The funny thing about it is that we are still friends, even though we rarely see each other. The impact we had on each other as we were growing up is still with us. We shared so much together back then… and now we have those fond memories to share. We could probably pick up right where we left off. I know we could.

Now that’s an idea… “Hey Carolyn, grab your dollhouse and come on over. I have a big tree in my backyard. Let’s PLAY!!”

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving

Kim @ Kids Matter

In our family, as in most families, Thanksgiving, is a major holiday.  When I was young, Thanksgiving was so much fun because all the cousins played together the entire day.  Thanksgiving was about getting together with family.  Oh, okay, and the food. Yes, the food.  My mother was quite the cook.  She always bought the biggest turkey as the whole family was coming for dinner (grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc).  She made the stuffing, stuffed the turkey (which was quite a production) sewed the turkey shut, and skewered the legs tight.  It was kind of scary the first time I tuned in to watch her do it. But oh, how the smell of that turkey cooking set in my memory, and ever after cemented the longing for turkey each Thanksgiving Day.  My mother began cooking Thanksgiving dinner for the family when my grandmother, the matriarch of the family, was not able to cook anymore. 

I love a story she told about mashed potatoes while she was growing up and I have to share the story with you. In the early 1930s, my mother and her two sisters had to mash potatoes by hand until they were creamy, with no lumps.  It was quite a chore sometimes, especially if there were going to be many guests at the dinner table.  The sisters would take turns mashing to keep the arguing to a minimum.  One day my grandmother bought a MixMaster to mash the potatoes.  My mother tells the story about the night my grandmother brought the MixMaster home.  They were peeling potatoes for the evening meal, and my grandmother had to leave the house to run down the street to a neighbor’s home.  She told the girls not to use the MixMaster because she had not yet trained them how to use it.   Well, sisters will be sisters.  Of course they knew they could use the MixMaster, and have it back in the box before my grandmother returned.  So the sisters opened the box and set up the MixMaster.  My mother put the beaters in the potatoes, slid the switch to on, and WHAM potatoes flew everywhere!   The story goes that my mother was up on a chair with a mop wiping potatoes off the wall when my grandmother walked into the kitchen.  Such a great story!  I had the best laugh when she told it to me.

My mother and one sister have passed away. My Aunty Pat is still with us and she has always been a character.  She is very witty, funny, and enjoys life very much.  I was named after her and when I was young she took care of me, sometimes.  I remember one Thanksgiving… something about Lancers wine and “Hey Aunt Mary, the peas are green”, but that is another story to be kept in the family.

I also remember being so upset one day after my mother passed because I could not find her fudge recipe. Thank goodness, I eventually found it while looking through her many recipe books.  I now make many of my mother’s dishes and her turkey and dressing are a tradition carried on by my son and his wife.  We now celebrate Thanksgiving with my husband’s parents as well but still also cook at our house so we can savior Thanksgiving all weekend. 

As the holiday is fast approaching, I remember that my grandchildren are storing their family memories and traditions.  May each of you have a wonderful Thanksgiving with great memories to store, and remember to grab those recipes to carry on your family traditions.   Also, remember your children are storing memories.  Make them wonderful.

Halloween Memories

Halloween Memories

BA @ Kids Matter

Ah, Halloween….. 

How do I love thee… let me count the ways:

1.      The decorations,

2.      The costumes,

3.      The food,

4.      The magic, and mostly,

5.      The memories…

When I was growing up, Halloween was one of my favorite days of the year.  The week leading up to the big night, always meant a trip with my mom to the local 5&10 cent store, J.J. Newberry’s, on Main Street to pick out the perfect costume.  We would walk down the street, stop under the striped awning, enter through the big heavy swinging double doors and stroll across the wooden floors in search of the Halloween display.  There it was… a glass enclosed counter with the individual boxes of costumes stacked to the top.  Yes, costumes came in a cardboard box; nicely folded with the mask peeking through the cellophane window in the box top. 

You could be anyone you wanted to be; a clown, a witch, Howdy Doody, the Lone Ranger, Cinderella, a lion, or a scarecrow.  It was all so enticing to a six year old!  As well as I can remember, the costumes were some sort of satin material that slipped on or pulled up, over your clothes and had a plastic tie at the neck.  A picture, to represent who you were, was stamped on the front… Cinderella also had some glitter on the front.  The masks were lightweight plastic and covered your entire face. You could hardly breathe in them.  But who cared?  It was great fun!!

On Halloween afternoon, when my dad got home from work, he and I would head to the back yard. He would cut the top off our pumpkin with a big butcher knife and let me stick my hand in to pull out all of the slimy insides.  He would carve a scary face, put a candle inside, put the top back on, carry it to the front yard, and ceremoniously place it on the front porch steps.   Then, it would be time to finish homework and eat a special dinner.  My Mom always made chili and sandwiches on this occasion.   But who could eat? 

Evening was beginning and soon my best friend and I would be donning our costumes and meeting to go Trick or Treating!  As I was getting ready, I always pictured a witch flying in front of a big yellow moon with wolves howling below.   Strange creatures would be lurking behind every tree.  I couldn’t wait to get outside in the dark, cold, eerie night. 

We would go from house to house. Each neighbor would comment on how scary, funny or beautiful we were in our costumes.  They always pretended not to know who we were, even though my dad was waiting patiently on the sidewalk.  We could count on wonderful goodies like popcorn balls, homemade cookies, caramel apples, big suckers, and chocolate bars!  Oh, the magic and wonderful innocence of it all!

I can still feel the warm memories come flooding back every year about this time…..the sweet simplicity of the late fifties.  I wish it could still be like that, but it was a long, long time ago and times have surely changed.  Those times were not so bad.  It was the simple things in life that made us what we are today… big kids who still love Halloween.

Halloween Tradition

Halloween Tradition

Kim @ Kids Matter

As soon as my children could walk, I would doll them up in cute Halloween costumes and we would go trick or treating!  They were so cute the first years; barely able to even say trick or treat.  I’m sure many of you remember how cute your children were and what that first “twik or tweet” and “tank you” sounded like.  It brings a smile to my face.  We would go to all of our relatives and friends homes and show off our cute toddlers. 

Each year as they grew older, we would carve the pumpkins.  It was a BIG scary ordeal when they were little. As they got bigger, the pumpkins had to be “cool” looking.  We had to decorate inside the house, make cookies and of course, decorate them.   I always found myself buying candy at least twice because by the end of the month, when we actually needed the candy for the night, it would be just about gone.

I remember warm trick or treat nights. I remember others when I had to drive the car up and down the street. The kids would pop out of the car, run up and visit a couple houses, and then run back to escape the frigid autumn air.

Now, my daughter is grown. This year she has her first toddler, Maddie, who will be a kitty cat.  She will be just three days shy of one year old, walking, and has no idea what we are doing.  My daughter has painted and carved pumpkins this year.  She has decorated the house but not bought candy.  She will take Maddie trick or treating down Main Street in town.  Trick or treating is a little different now than when my children grew up.  They also have the “Trunk or Treats”, which I think is a fabulous idea.  New traditions are being made before my eyes.  It is so much fun for me to watch my daughter carrying on old traditions and creating new ones.

I have so many memories; old and new.  Whatever the tradition… it’s all about how much family and Kids Matter!