I always enjoy reading Mommy blogs especially when they write about their children and the adorable things they do. It reminds me of when my kids were young and adorable too. Yes, of course, they’re still adorable but it’s not the same adorable as when they had to strain their necks backward to look up at me. Oh I so miss that; these days it’s the other way around!

I sometimes covet the joy that so many of the children born in these last decades will have with the ability to sit on their sofas, probably flying sofas, later in life and get to know the child they were through videos/DVDs taken by their parents and grandparents. I would love to see what my family was like as I was growing up. Better than just memories, I could actually see what my sisters and I looked like in our matching poncho and skirt sets my mother put so much love into when she tirelessly sewed most of our clothes.

It struck me as I was reading some of these blogs that many of our children may now have something else most of us adults don’t have. They will have parental journals documenting the thoughts, feelings and views of their parent’s life and times as they grew up. Depending on how long these blogs remain on the internet, have we taken into account that one day our children may read what we are writing? With a quick mental scan of my posts I’ve decided I’m just fine with that thought. There is nothing on this blog I wouldn’t want my children to read in the future.

Hopefully, as they read, long forgotten details of their childhood will come to light. I pray that they’ll already know me well enough that they won’t be surprised by anything I’ve written. My greatest fear is that they’ll all have a good laugh at their homeschool mom’s spelling and grammar inadequacies. Even worse, what if because of me, they don’t even catch the errors?

But I digress. What this post is really about is one of my favorite memories from when my second son was little.

Kyle was only three years old, he had been playing in the backyard of our home in California with his father when the two of them came running into the house excitedly.

Julian was holding something in his hand and Kyle was hurriedly looking for an extra turtle cage we had somewhere in the house. When our neighbor Jill, who was visiting, saw that Julian was holding a snake, she became very concerned. She quickly left to get her Big Book of Snakes in order to see if this was one of the poisonous types that could be found in our area.

We immediately let Kyle know in no uncertain terms that he was not to touch this snake because it could be very dangerous. We put it in the cage and closed the lid. By this time Jill had returned and we began to search the pictures to see if we could locate what type of snake it was. As we searched, we talked about the possibility and what ifs of it being deadly. All the while Kyle wouldn’t take his eyes off the snake. The cover was secure enough that we allowed him to carry the cage to his bedroom as we continued to search.

Soon we found that the snake was of the King snake variety and although not poisonous to humans they are one of a Rattler’s greatest enemies. We were all relieved and happy that Kyle would now be able to keep ol’ Donatello as a pet, albeit probably only for a few days, as he had initially hoped.

All calm restored, the adults turned their attention to the next pressing matter, making a pot of coffee. A few minutes passed and suddenly we heard a scream come from Kyle’s room. We all ran upstairs to find our normally very tough little three-year-old shaking his hand and crying like a baby. Through the tears he managed to tell us that he had reached into the cage and the snake had bit him.

So this story doesn’t get lost on those of you who didn’t know Kyle as a child, his favorite demand at this age was, “DON’T LOOK AT ME!” He was what my Mom loving referred to as an imp; stubborn, strong, determined, and steadfast. He never cried from being hurt, only from not getting his way. So when 20 minutes passed and he was still crying, we all became concerned. We wondered if maybe this was more serious than we had initially thought.

I took him on my knee and hugged him close.

“Kyle, does your hand still hurt?”

“No,” was the sniveling reply.

“Then why are you still crying, honey?”

I’ll never forget his answer; it’s one our family now uses frequently when we just can’t think of what say.

Crying hard again he answered, “Because now I HAVE TO DIE!”

Think maybe we forgot to tell him about heaven too?

~~~ ~~~

Have you written a post about family this week? Then add your link below and join our Friday’s Family Favorites.

Categories: Family-Favorites
Tags: blogging, family, kids, memories, mommies, snake