Memories of "home"

I had DVR'd an episode of John & Kate Plus 8 the other night, and decided to watch it tonight. Oddly enough, Tyler loves this show too (because of the 6 kids that are his age), so we watched it together. (Yes, the TV got batteries and came back on tonight!).

On this episode the family had gone back to their house to clean it out for the final time. They bought an enormous house in the woods which gave them about 10 times more room than they had, but I give them kudos for living in the 4 bedroom house that they had, with 8 kids, for almost 3 years.

At the end of the show, they showed them standing in the driving saying goodbye to their old house. None of them really seemed to mind, and the kids were just concerned that they were going to get a snack in the car. I could tell they were excited to move into their new house. It's gorgeous, in the middle of nowhere, and they actually have room to move around now. Even with cameramen in their face all day long.

Then they started showing clips of the various empty rooms in the house, and then they would cut to previous video of what, at the time, seemed to be just "normal" daily activity that happened in that room. Eating dinner at the table in the kitchen, kids playing duck duck goose in the living room, and jumping on their beds in the bedroom. Then I started bawling. This hit me square in the face. Every moment, of every day, I am making memories for my kids. I can remember back to some things that happened when I was 4, so Tyler is remembering things NOW.

I started thinking back to my "home" on Brentwood Drive that I would consider "where I grew up". I remember the creek in the backyard that the center of my universe. Every chance we could get we played across it, in it, next to it, etc. I remember the light our babysitter broke once in the basement. I remember watching "The Wizard of Oz" on the pull out couch in the basement. I remember the beautiful sound of my mom playing the piano in the living room. I remember my dad building the fireplace with his own hands. I remember the theme song to "Hill Street Blues", because that meant it was time for bed. I remember listening to records in the basement. I don't know how my parents kept their sanity hearing the Annie Soundtrack 1 million times.

I remember all of these things that would seem senseless, although they are stuck in my head.

I never thought of this house as the place that would imprint the same memories in my child's brain. Every moment seems a little bit more special now.....