House Keeping in a Cluttered Mind - closet #5

It’s been kind of a busy week for me. I guess my lack of posting this week would be an indication of how far down blogging is on my priority list.

Earlier in the week we celebrated the 13th birthday of my oldest son. Now we’re a two teenager household. That got me to thinking about my early teenage years. I walked or rode my bike EVERYWHERE back then! My parents are still learning about some of the things I did or how far away from home I rode. Of course it was a different time back then and probably much safer. And yes, I even wore a helmet and . I bought a green Schwin ten-speed from Eddy. It wasn’t the greatest, but it got me through until I could afford a brand new bike. Bike riding here isn’t as interesting as back in Pennsylvania where we have hills and curves.

Besides biking, I also remember being brave enough in eighth grade to ask a girl if she’d like to “go out.” At that age “going out” really meant having your parents pick her up in the family sedan and have her accompany you to someplace. She was tall with short blond hair. She was on the swim team and her name was Jennifer. I asked her to go to a Youth For Christ pizza party. She accepted, however, right before the big “date” she broke her leg and we never did end up going out, ever.

I think it was around that time that I also started writing poetry. Writing and riding my bike were probably just how I dealt with all the weird stuff we have to go through at that stage of not being a kid anymore yet not being fully grown either. I know almost everybody wouldn’t go back to that time in their life no matter how many millions of dollars you’d pay them. But for me those were some really good years. No real conflict with my parents. No big crisis about all the mental, emotional and physical changes or over finding my “identity.”

I wonder how my kids will feel in 30 years or so when they look back at this time in their lives. I know I think they are great kids and they seem to be doing well. We seem to have open lines of communication. But there’s always those thoughts of wondering what is really going on in their noggins. I hope they are enjoying these years.