Stories of me: 1985
1985…. I have a terrible memory it seems because try as I might I really can’t conjure very many memories from 1985. I know, because I did the maths, that this is the year I would have started year one. As I sit and try to remember year one I have small flashes of information come to me.
My teacher – Sr Margaret Mary and how understanding and kind she was when I vomited on the floor right in front of her desk!
The little boy sitting next to me who devastated me when he asked why I had bird seeds in my sandwich (maybe multigrain bread was new back then??).
Playing elastics in the playground (although technically this memory could be from anywhere between 1985 and 1991)
My mum tells me this was the year I started t ball. I do remember t ball and my Uncle John being my coach – I remember the little pantaloon type pants and the continuously hitting the t instead of the ball when it was my turn to bat, I also remember that I completely sucked at it and still get teased (by my lovely family) about my terrible throwing style first discovered in those early days of t ball.
One of my most prominent memories though, while not technically from 1985 alone but certainly included in that year, is my Mum. My amazing, wonderful mum who always put us kids first. Who, now that I am an adult I realise, sacrificed so much for us kids but never once let us know it. She was and still is an inspiration to me. She will always be my go to whenever I have questions regarding parenting, cooking, friendships and basically just life in general. She has progressed from (though not stopped) being the ultimate super mum to being the most amazing Granma to my boys and all my nieces and nephews. I love you Mum and don’t know where I would be without you!
Here’s a snapshot of my crazy family. This is my sister, one of my brothers and myself with our gorgeous Mum at our cousin’s wedding last year.
You’re the best Mum xx