Your best childhood memories

[twizzlersizzler]

I've been thinking a lot about what I really want for my young DC lately (perhaps contemplation because of Covid and wondering whether we've missed out on things). I wonder what's most important for kids, what they really remember? I'm really lucky and have very positive memories of childhood. But most of all I remember pretty simple things: long bike rides with friends doing nothing in particular, building dens in the garden, homemade pizza night and just that warmth and security that everything was ok. I'm hoping that it really is that simple (and then hopefully I can't go wrong!), so thought I'd ask mumsnet, what were your best bits of childhood?

Climbing a big cherry tree in our garden and playing on the climbing frame, making it into a den. Camping out in the summer in a huge tent in our neighbors garden with loads of other neighborhood kids, always playing round at neighbours houses or out in the street, fantastic playscheme at the local school in the summer with bouncy castle, loads of craft activities, a tuck shop and cinema screen showing the same old films each year but we loved it. Holidays to south wales where my aunt and uncle lived and spending time with cousins, going off to the beach by ourselves and playing in the sand dunes and rock pools. I don't think my own kids childhood has come anywhere close to mine sadly.

Being at the airport. I liked aeroplanes from a very early age and still do. I have worked at said airport for more than 25 years.

Being on holiday at Southbourne, Bournemouth. We stayed at the Overcliff Hotel for several summers.

@Babyroobs I'm sorry, that's my constant worry too, that my kids childhood won't live up to my own. But I'm hoping maybe I just edited out the tricky bits.

I remember times at the beach too, playing in the sea until late, and we had camp outs in our garden too. Which reminds me, I really need to do those things with my own kids!

One of mine and my sisters best memories is my dad and mum taking us sledding. Only memorable as dad hardly ever did anything so that's really marked it out. We have lots of general caravan holidays in north wales with our nan. Cafe lunches, sand castles and fish and chips with her telling us stories in bed at night. I remember going to see Father Christmas in Lewis department store in Liverpool every year for 5 years. That was mega special.

Other than that I have a really clear memory of being with a huge group of friends when I was about 7-8 and we were on the park on the swings and were singing a song from Mannequin. I remember being so happy . I could feel the sunshine and smell the grass and it was just perfect. The rest of them are very generic but very hair memories of playing out with all my friends. We were incredibly lucky to live 50m from a beautiful Green area with rivers, trees, bike trails, etc. we were out 10 hours a day on the summer holidays. I loved it.

Trip to the sweet shop after Saturday morning swimming lessons followed by sausage sandwiches at home

Holidays in France at my parents friends holiday home...they had a huge place surrounded by fields... We'd run round like maniacs...great fun

Takeaways in the living room on a Saturday night watching blind date and gladiators

My friend and I playing with sticks and stones in the streams at the waterpark in the summer.

Playing on the beach at Cleethorpes, building a sandcastle with a moat and walking what felt like miles to fill my bucket with water for the moat, which of course would just sink into the sand so I'd have to go and get more!

Playing in the rockpools on the beach at Flamborough Head.

Going on the 2p and 10p slot machines at the seaside.

Playing out with my friends which makes me sad as my kids don't really have this, its all bloody play dates now which are a fucking nightmare to organise.

Going on caravan holidays with my parents and brother, they were amazing.

Christmas eve with my brother and I hatching elaborate plans to go downstairs and catch santa in the act.

Saturday dinners at my aunties house, I can still smell her cooking now (my mum is also a good cook but my auntie was amazing).

Going by coach to Harrogate flower show with my dgm.
Making dens in dgm's under stairs cupboard.
Christmas..
Having trampoline lessons.
Having a ddog and a dcat.

I had a very miserable childhood but the absolute high point was going to the Blackpool illuminations and being allowed to sit on the roof of the moving car with our legs dangling in through the sun roof (negligent drunk Dad).

Blackpool is very special to me as my beloved Gran lived there. Also, donkeys on the beach and playing the slot machines.

I used to like making dens - I tried to talk to my eldest about how fun it is and he just walked off in disgust .

I take mine camping lots and I think they like it. They'll probably tell me it was hell when they are grown up, but I feel like I can spend some fun times with them. We get to laugh a lot because something always goes wrong!

[quote twizzlersizzler]@Babyroobs I'm sorry, that's my constant worry too, that my kids childhood won't live up to my own. But I'm hoping maybe I just edited out the tricky bits.

I remember times at the beach too, playing in the sea until late, and we had camp outs in our garden too. Which reminds me, I really need to do those things with my own kids![/quote]
Your children will have their own memories, they will be different to yours but it doesn’t mean they wont be just as good from their point of view.

I do think the simple things that involve time spent with people/family are the ones we remember best.

I remember things like seaside holidays where my dad would always build me a sand boat that I could sit in.
We used to live in the Peak District and in the winter when we’d been on a cold snowy hike we’d come home and have a Cornish pasty in a bowl of Heinz oxtail soup. This is still one of my go to comfort meals.

I was talking to DH about this the other day, how childhood only lasts a relatively short time but seems to last forever and takes up a disproportionate amount of space in your personal life story. And the pressure that puts on you as a parent, trying to ensure that your own DC has positive memories to take from it.

I'm not sure that setting out to deliberately 'make memories' really works. I had a wonderful childhood, but I don't think I could pick out the best bits. Mostly my memories are quite mundane - playing in the garden, family meals etc. The most important thing was, as OP said, that feeling of warmth and security. I hope I can give that to my DC above all else.

The small of braised steak and gravy as I walked through the door at my Nans every Friday night when I went there at weekends after school.

My grandad taking me to the shop every Friday afternoon for 4 packets of beef crisp and a comic.

My grandad letting me stay up late to watch V with him whilst my nan was at work, I would slide down the gap between his legs and the chair and scoff my crisp watching the lizard aliens.

Going to the market on a Saturday morning with my nan and getting the meat for the Sunday dinner of the butcher and picking the veg and fruit out. Then having dripping butties off the leg of lamb/pork she had got of the market whilst she roasted it for the next day, listening to her gossip with 'Lillian off the second hand stall'

Listening to the church bells on a Sunday morning whilst in bed at my Nans, smelling my bacon butty cooking down stairs.

That really was the only place I felt truly happy, loved and safe.

There was a lovely moment today where dd2 (10) was helping dh assemble some furniture. It brought back so many memories of me helping my own df. Tiny fingers with awkward screws and corners. So cute.

My Dad owned lots of gypsy waggons.. We used to go off in them for holidays..
One summer when we were about 6 a tent was purchased for my friend and I and I to camp in... All went well until we reached Fritton Common near Long Stratton... We used to love staying there as there was a grey haired elderly lady called Daisy who ran the Nags Head. We adored her and she told us lots of stories of running the pub.
We all went to bed on Sunday night, some in caravans, some on a mattress on the flat trolley and my friend and I in our tent.. A peaceful night ensued until 4.30am when the local farmer drove his milking cows across the common..
The cows got their hooves entangled in the guy ropes of the tent.. They ambled off across the common with our tent attached...
The first our parents knew about it was when they heard loud screams "DADDY, DADDY, WHERE HAS OUR TENT GONE???"
Our fathers tumbled down the caravan steps in their pyjamas to be confronted with two red faced and bewildered daughters and a farmer wondering how the hell he was going to remove a two man tent from the his cows hooves!
Another memory is of being ill in the mid 1970s and having a day off school. Dad took my Great Granny and I off to the garage to have his car looked at. For some reason the mechanic left GG and I in the car and jacked it up quite high...GG opened the front passenger window and in her best Lady Bracknell voiced said in an imperious voice to the mechanic.. "YOUNG MAN BRING US DOWN NOWWWWWW!!"
He very sensibly did as he was told!! 🤣 🤣 🤣