Wee hours of the morning.

We had a blast at Daytona Beach yesterday!!!  The waves were a bit rough though so I didn't let the kiddos go out to far.  We went out to dinner, after getting back to town, and I had some yummy crab legs at a local place.

Friday night while hubby was working on our cake into the wee morning hours (remember mine and my sons birthdays were Saturday) I was reading.

 ::Que shimmery picture and music::
 2 years ago my mom gave me a memory book of my life.  I had never sat down and paged through the entire thing.  I did that in the wee hours before I officially turned 35. Lots of mementos and little things that my mom had saved over the years. A letter from my long gone grandmother written to my mom. Stressing the importance of getting a education in life.  I believe at that time she was re-married and was happier in her second marriage after he quit drinking. (that was the jist I got)  Her flowy cursive was a little hard to read but she did mention her life had been hell in the earlier years.  A chatty letter from my aunt that lives in AL that I don't think I have ever spoken to as an adult. (I was sheltered from my extended family when we moved to FL when I was young. Lots of family drama caused this- Wasn't about me, but when you grow up not talking to family or knowing them it is just easy not to contact them)  

Little notes I had written my mom over the years.  Notes that my father apparently had written for me when I was about 4-5. Mentioning our living conditions and where were my Christmas presents. (My parents were separated at the time and she was in FL)  I don't remember one of them mentioned but I DO remember the second faintly.  I only remember due to pictures to be honest, but I do remember.  One thing that jumped out at me in my faint memories was how very poor we were.  We were living on a old school bus on the land my father grew up on. The bus was converted to be like a camper I believe. I am not 100% sure on that though because the pictures just show the steps and I don't remember the inside. Reading those letters now I feel lucky that I was not raised in that kind of poverty.  There is even a letter from the school district about how the title to the bus was lost. 

A copy of a apartment rental agreement.  That is where most of my childhood memories start from. I thought it was interesting that my father was 35 at the time with me at 7.  I just turned 35, and my oldest just turned 7.  My father's birthday is 2 days before mine.  My mom said I was due the 9th of July and late and my 7 yr old was due July 9th and was late as well.  Just a little tidbit I doubt you knew.  :)  

Where the real fun begins- Letters  My mom put all kinds of letters (originals with envelopes) in there that I had written over the years.  It is not all of them but a sprinkling.  I remember writing most of them and where I was/what I was doing/ who I was dating at the time. Talk about a blast from the past in them.  LOL  Makes me happy to see where I have come and who I did not become. I must thank my mother for all the help she has given me over the years. I remember some things forever, but forget others quickly.  I did not remember all the various help till I read myself thanking her. My mother has gone out of her way to help me in any way she can in various ways. They might not be HUGE but they are there and were helpful when offered. Like mailing things/ small $/paying my bills (me send money her write check to company). *Apparently I didn't know about money orders back then and thought it was safer to send cash through the mail?!*  I remember her sending me stationary and stamps just to get a letter or note from me.  I am a all or nothing type writer which is why my blogging lacks at times. When am in the mood I must strike while the iron is hot. Or else I get distracted and feel like I have nothing to write. Anyway reading these letter and thanking my mom in my head I started to feel what it will be like to have older kiddos.  You always going to want to protect/help/love them. Even when they don't want to be. I tend to get annoyed with my mom because I feel like she is just saying "ok" and not *listening* to what I say. I need to take a step back and realize that might just be her way of  listening. I know she reads my blog and will read this so- I love you Mom!  (I could totally see myself with the gentle pestering of stationary/stamps just to get words from my child many states away)

All of that reading made me come right out the the laptop and type a letter to my aunt that I have not spoken to. Some of it is fluff- some of it is telling her about my memory book and how she is in it. 

Anyway I am off to swap out the wash. I came home to a empty house and I like it. It has encouraged me to do two loads of laundry and make some home made ranch.  I am borrowing a book from my brother I plan on reading that I am interested in.  It is in hubby's car though so I cannot start on it now.  I look forward to reading about wheat though.