Ah the good old days…Back when we only accepted cash.

I don’t have many memories from when I was a four or five years old but the ones I do have, are so vivid, so clear and so very permanent that I am beginning to worry about what my son is going to remember about this age?  Up until now, my husband and I have both had the security of knowing that he’ll never remember this or that because he’s too young, but now every moment really does count. Of course, my hope is that he recalls the days spent at the beach playing in the waves, laughing, loving and in awe of how Mother and Father managed to parent with such joy and patience. But knowing my luck, the only memory he will have is of the time I let a rather heavy, commercial door slam into his head because I was too focused on getting into skating lessons on time.

I understand that being a good parent has very little to do with the specific memories our kids have of their childhood, but in those moments of less than perfect parenting, I can’t help but ask, “Will this be it?  Will this be the moment that defines this age for him? Will this be what he remembers and tells his own kids thirty or forty years from now?” My worry turns to fear as I scramble to remember every moment of this last year.  After an hour or two of obsessing, I remembered that my most vivid memory of this age was grocery shopping with my mother and then lining up and scanning every item, on our kitchen floor before she put it away.  I remember how much fun I had and not surprisingly, she remembers how frustrating it was to have uncooked chicken sitting out for twenty minutes while I ran a price check on Mac & Cheese. I honestly don’t remember her trying to hurry up the process or yelling at me (which according to her, she did) for starting all over again when I miscalculated the total, I just remember me.  For once I can see how a child’s selfishness can be a parent’s salvation. I’m not saying that I don’t need to work on being a more patient, understanding mother, I’m just saying that if I slip up once in a while it doesn’t have to be a defining moment.  And besides, if all else fails I can just let another door hit him…he won’t remember a thing.