terrible children!

No, my children aren't terrible, though lately they've been doing a few things that make me want to pull my rapidly graying hair out. But each time I feel ready to start down the road to "yellsville" because of some crazy shenanigan or another, I have to stop and remember what a terrible child I was.

I didn't mean to be terrible--perhaps just overly creative with too much time on my hands. My mom was widowed and so she had to work long hours to support us all. Until I was about 8, my brother and I went to a babysitter. I can't really remember why we stopped going, I just remember suddenly having a lot of time to ourselves after school. Time to do things like this:

Once I had a yard sale. Only I never asked, I just went around the house finding stuff I didn't like or didn't think we needed--none of my precious stuff mind you--but dishes, a lamp, some of my mom's clothes, my brother's winter coat with the pointy hood that bothered me---you get the picture. Needless to say my poor mother had to do some hunting around to our neighbors to get our things back and return the dimes and quarters I'd sold everything for.

Another time, I remember my brother and I drug our family's big beanbag outside. Then we got out the ladder and climbed up onto our roof. You can guess what's coming next. We had a jolly good time repeatedly jumping off the roof and onto the beanbag. We even invited a few lucky neighborhood children to join us!

We swam in the canal that ran through our neighborhood. We played with fireworks and caught my mom's bed on fire. We called the police when we saw 'strangers' in our neighborhood (little old people out on a walk). We loaned out expensive tools and fishing gear to our friends. We experimented with our own 'potions' in the kitchen. How we are still alive, I do not know. I can only attribute it to the fact that it was the early 80's and maybe every kid acted like that......maybe?!?!

So when I feel the need to punish Liam and the "spawn of Liam" as we so affectionately call James, or to ground these two amigos that seem to outsmart me at every turn--
I just remember my own mother who laughed (and cried!) and managed to get me through my childhood feeling loved and of worth------and I think I can try and do the same.

*I would LOVE to hear some crazy stories about anyone else's childhood. No teenage stories though please--because those can get really ugly :).