Nov. 17, 2003 - 16:46 MDT

THE WONDERING JEW

Faulty Memory

I don't know if I should have kept a journal from early on, but possibly keeping a log book, starting way back, would sure make it handy now.

Our youngest daughter was quite young still and her mother thought it was time for her to get off the bottle as she was drinking from cups etc.

I must plead guilty for my nefarious scheme. I'm still wondering if I should feel guilty and wondering why I don't. Christmas was nearing and in an effort to get her to give up the bottle I would tell her in her bedtime story each night about the poor little kids who had to do without a bottle because their parents had no money to buy bottles and milk too. Each night a different twist, but essentially the same message to her. Her Mama and brothers and sisters clued in and encouraged her too.

Christmas Eve she said, "No bottle Mama." She gathered the bottles and nipples from the table, put them in a cardboard box and set the box by the table where Santa's milk and cookies were to be put. She said something on the order of, "For Santa to take to poor little girls and boys."

She was so gentle and sweet about the whole thing and decided for herself when she was going off the bottle.

I should have logged that, or wish I had. Now the time and date are fogged up as to just which Christmas she did that. Many things I wish were logged by me, long before I ever thought of keeping a journal a log book, it would have had our children's names, dates and new actions to write into a permanent sort of record we could look back on these days.

The memories are sweet as it is, but it would be nice if we had a way to refer back to dates etc. Then Heather and I could possibly compile a somewhat accurate family history of our children's young years. Somehow give a picture of our family in a coordinated manner, step by step. I think that would be a keen thing to do. But I can't back up either.

Remembering our oldest sons efforts to help us at an early age. Then he and I working on a morning paper route. He paid his way to the Boy Scout Jamboree at Valley Forge with money he made helping me roll papers at the station and delivering them from the car. He had the route memorized, front to back, sideways and back end to, because if the papers were delivered late to the station when I started out on the route we would throw the papers at the early risers houses and then go back and throw the rest of the route. He navigated the route when I was in hospital recovering from an appendectomy. A friend drove the car and helped throw the papers where son told him to.

Our youngest son showed the makings of an artist at an early age. Crayons and paper were necessities for him. In his adult life he is a graphic artist. He tried Boy Scouts but his interest was not in it and we didn't push him. Our two oldest girls were immersed in girl things with their neighbor friends and later in the Brownies with their Mother.

But from the time our youngest daughter was born, our kids saw that she was cared for, played with and loved to the max. Our youngest was a boy age 12, the girls in between and the oldest was a boy 19 years old. Heather and I never had to hunt a baby sitter, family did too good a job.

Yep, I should have kept a log book and maybe put it together a bit better. Now, about all I can do is blather and blame my mess on a Faulty Memory . . . . . . . . . . .

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