Megan said her name yesterday.  For the first time.  At about 11:03am.  There, now I have it documented!

Instead of tearing up, I laughed with glee and tried to get her to say it again and again.  Of course, she was onto new things and could care less what her name was by then!  But I still wanted to celebrate so I grabbed her, flipped her up side down, tickled her and listened to her giggle with  glee!

As I celebrated and she laughed uncontrollably, I wondered what it would be like…  to live childhood again.  To have little things like saying your name celebrated as if you just won the  Nobel Peace Prize.  Or landed and agent for your first novel.  Or hit a home run in your first Major league Baseball game.

Childhood seems so easy to me.  Your whole existence centers around play and fun and learning.  Sure, there are rules and boundaries and  those pesky teenage years where I thought I knew everything, but really, how hard was it?

As I have aged and seen the world in all of it’s glory and garbage, I have lost the innocence, laughter, and the desire to learn about every single thing out there, I think.  Or at least limit what I want to see and learn.  In fact, I have a hard time conjuring up the actual feelings of childhood at all!  I have memories, sure… but that ability to channel the pure irresponsibility of it is difficult.

I want it back!  Childhood!  NOW!

I don’t want to be an adult anymore.  I want to run freely through the house screaming and chasing my sister with reckless abandon.  I want to conspire with them to empty out every bucket, drawer, or box that holds toys, coloring books, or stuffed animals.  Not a care in the world that the evidence of my play litters my floor! After all, I have to hone my climbing skill somewhere!

I want someone to push me, cook for me, clean up after me, and think that it is cute that I can not do it for myself yet.

I want to open a cabinet full of food and throw everything out while looking for just the right snack to eat.  I want to be messy and have people take pictures of me because I look ‘oh so cute’ with ice cream dripping down my chin!  And I want to be void of the knowledge of calories, fat grams, and carbohydrates.

I want to kiss and hug my friends – boys and girls – and not have it misconstrued as a fault against my husband.   And I want to curl up in someone’s lap and cry when I feel like it instead of feeling like I have to hold it in so that other’s don’t judge me!   Or curl up with a good book and have it read to me while I ooh and ahh and fill in my own words for my own entertainment.

But most of all, I want to feel safe, and irresponsible, and like the good in life is a priority again!  I want my glass half full even after I spill the contents all over the kitchen floor, and I want people to laugh at me when I make a mistake out of innocence, instead of expecting me to always know better.

Yes, childhood has its disadvantages as well.  I am thinking… hold on.  Being told what to do all the time would be one except that I think it would be kind of cool to always know what is expected of you.  And I won’t argue that bedtime is bad – no way.   Nor will I badmouth Time Out.  I might get frustrated that I am being told to do things that I just do not understand the concept of yet, and maybe I’ll have a serious beef with having to go to school again – I like to sleep in – but overall, I want it back.

Childhood Again.

Or at least the appreciation for life and fun that it holds and the freedom to laugh when I fart.

But since I can’t go back, I will watch my children and try to make theirs last as long as possible!