Wednesday, May 11, 2011


i find it interesting how we become so similar to how we were raised. our childhood is carried with us.

i've carried my childhood with me into adulthood and now motherhood.

i grew up on a construction site. many weekends you could find me going to work with my dad. i worked along side of him building and sawing and nailing and drilling. he took me to old historic homes and buildings he was renovating. those weekends spent on the construction site have shaped my love for historic homes with character, for small, quaint spaces, for projects. i worked for him for many years throughout college and it was by far the best job i've ever had. i can navigate my way through a set of construction plans. i still use construction terms. and i almost answered the phone the other day with the name of his construction company.

summers as a child were wonderful. my mom always had projects and crafts and outings for my sister and i to do. she signed us up for craft classes at the local craft store. we learned how to decorate cakes, paint on canvas with oil paints, use watercolors that weren't crayola, and many other random crafting skills. we always had supplies in the house to make whatever our imagination wanted. those long dog days of summer was when my love for crafting began.

the years passed, i graduated a few times, got married, moved out, had one child then two. and now, i see how my children are carrying a bit of my childhood with them. they are becoming me. my girl is just like i was. spunky yet sweet. she loves the delicate flow of a skirt, but has no problem wiping her compost covered hands on it. my boy loves to paint and when i squeeze a few colors on a paper plate and give him a brush, his imagination quickly covers that blank white piece of paper.

things like this are often lost in the busyness of life. and since life won't slow down for us, i guess we just need to slow down for life.

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