Category Archives: First Memory

Mommy Think

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The Prompt: Reverse Shot—What’s your earliest memory involving another person? Recreate the scene — from the other person’s perspective.

My earliest memory is waking up in my crib and making a noise to let my mom know I was awake and then watching her walk in with a big grin.  I remember very clearly thinking how delighted she was to see me and how anxious she must have been for me to wake up!  Ha!

Mommy Think

I can hear the baby stirring, but she’s quiet for now.  I guess I’ll try to finish the Daily Crossword before going in to see if she’s really ready to get up from her nap.  If she’s wet or restless, she always lets me know—the same gurgle as usual, but a bit louder, to make sure I notice.

The divan I’m lying on is so close to the open door to her room that there’s no chance I won’t hear her if she really needs me.  Hmmmmm. A Hawaiian goose.  I’ve seen that a dozen times.  Nene, I think.

Oh, Oh.  There’s that little singing purr.  She’s ready.  So much for the puzzle for a little while, until I get her changed, liquified and busy with her toys in her playpen.

There she is.  So adorable, peeking out from between the bars of her crib.  I can see her eyes dilate when she sees me, one chubby little arm reaching through the bars,  hand out, fingers spread.  Waving hello like her sisters taught her.  Face open in the biggest grin to see her mom.  It’s like looking in a mirror.  I can feel that same grin stretching my own cheeks.  I can’t believe I’ve created this sweet girl.  Me, the laziest woman on earth—I made this!

She’s gotten heavier and OUCH! those little fingernails need trimming.  She wraps her chubby legs around me like a vise.  Fat little toes for gobbling as I change her diaper.  That strange arrow birthmark pointing straight down and filling the vee between her legs like a direction signal. So strange.  My first child to have marks of any kind–the small port wine stain on her neck, and this larger brown birthmark in such an odd place. So glad this big one will never really show that much so long as she has any clothes on at all.

She’s perfect, so far as anyone else knows.   I’ll put her with a cookie and orange juice in her bottle into her playpen and finish my puzzle.  No need to change her clothes.  Her dad will be home soon for his afternoon break and he’ll have her filthy from his field clothes within seconds of entering the house.  They’ll both be asleep within minutes–him in his rocking chair with his feet up on the footstool and the glass of iced tea I’ve brought him sweating on his chair-side table, her stretched out on her tummy on his chest, little cheek pressed against his neck, wheat chaff and field dust on her sleeper and making light depressions on her cheek. I’ve never seen a man who loves babies more.  When we don’t have one of our own, he borrows them from tourists in the restaurant where he meets his friends for coffee in the afternoon.  “Want me to hold your baby for you while you eat?” he says, and they always say yes.  The novelty of the big farmer in the J.C. Penny’s khaki work clothes and the straw hat holding their little city baby?  They just wish they’d brought their camera in.

Hmmm. A South American Country.  Peru? No, that’s just four letters. Chile? There’s Ben’s truck.  Guess I’ll get the baby out of the playpen and have her waiting at the door for him when he comes in!

The Prompt: Reverse Shot—What’s your earliest memory involving another person? Recreate the scene — from the other person’s perspective.

(P.S.This is a pretty unremarkable post for my 300th posting, but I have an eye appointment in an hour so must hurry.  Perhaps I’ll do another post later in the day…It was fun trying to write from my mother’s perspective.  Sorry it had to be so hurried.)

(P.P.S. The eye doctor never showed up, although I waited an hour.  I was sure it said I had an appointment in my calendar.  I must need my eyes examined!)

2017 Note:  It’s been three years since Word Press used the prompt “recreate.” At that time, I used the prompt to make my 300th blog entry.  Now I have penned (or shot) my 3,444th entry, so it seems appropriate to reblog it.  Thanks for reading it—and perhaps for reading it again.