What I Miss About Childhood...

I miss the summers that lasted forever. Winter was only two days long and even it was blissful. I miss the days when every stranger was harmless and caterpillars were able to take my mind off even the most lofty burdens. I miss peaceful Saturdays with my mom. The Saturdays that I lived for...with a woman I couldn't live without. I miss Santa Claus and his mysterious habits. He had the ability to transform poverty into a plush, picture of abundance. I miss love in the sweetest form. No sex, no complications...just friendship and cookies and flashlight tag.

Childhood had a way of teasing me, tugging at me, and making me believe that it wouldn't disappear into the abyss of memories. I thought that I would have it forever. I thought that we would be together and laugh at the obligations of today. But life doesn't work that way.

Eventually, you wake up to an alarm clock and a spouse...in a house that you don't remember buying with a mortgage that you couldn't have possibly agreed to. Eventually, every stranger is suspicious and every caterpillar reminds you that you need to call the exterminator because summer is around the corner. And the thought of summer makes you sigh with exasperation and frustration pours from your pores because you have to research summer camps for the kids, you have a list of "to-dos" and "wish I dids". There's no more time for flashlight tag or water day in the backyard. There's no more time for laughter and chatter and chocolate.

Because chocolate is now the enemy. I swear, adulthood doesn't make any sense to me. Womanhood is even more of a mystery. We all used to love chocolate. We used to eat Hershey's bars until our tummies ached, now we do crunches on a yoga mat until our bellies ache. Geesh. What for, I ask? What for?

The little girl inside is yearning for an opportunity to jump on a trampoline again. She wants to spend the night at Lindsey Rabidou's and watch the sun rise with her 5 "best friends" (all of whom she would die for). Those were the days. We all examined ourselves in the mirror every five minutes, claiming to be so fat but never being able to prove how we came to those conclusions.

I miss all of that. I miss that optimism I had when nothing was tragic enough to steal my joy. Every boy was "the boy" and pink was my power color. Seventeen magazine was my novel of choice and I was fearless. Back then, I knew the world was mine.

Now, I'm just trying not to lose my mind. I miss childhood...