The very final task on the Blog Every Day in May challenge is to discuss/share/talk about a vivid memory. [As soon as I read this prompt I broke into ‘memories, memories, looking back on our memories’ in my head, because of course you know singing helps my mind and sometimes you have to embrace the inner weird in your head!] Anyway back to the point of me typing right this second, the blog challenge – the final day, can you believe it! I bet you’ll miss my random daily ponderings, not! Whilst I admittedly have a rubbish memory when it comes to some things – compliments people have played to me, important moments in my life, etc – there are some things that refuse to budge from my mind. Not that I need them to or want them to, you understand, but they are the memories I know will never leave me no matter how old and grey I get and one of those memories I’ll share with you now.
One April day back in 1993, when I was just shy of 8, my parents called my Sister and I into their room one morning to tell us something. Being a typical self-obsessed almost eight year old my brain assumed it was going to be all about my upcoming birthday party, so I was expecting something along the lines of: ‘What do you want as a present?’, ‘Will another cuddly toy dog or set of My Little Pony’s do?’ or ‘What do you want to do to celebrate?’ (FYI the answers would have been as follows: yes, yes and Chessington, please!). But no my parents had big news up their sleeve that would irrevocably change my life forever and ever in the best possible way as they announced that we would have a new brother or sister in just six months.
Even though I’m a twin, up to that point I’d always been slightly seen as the youngest child and I was always happy to play up to that role. So you might think I would be devastated to have that role usurped in the family. But no, I was just unbelievably excited and my first thought (which I voiced) was: Does that mean Laura and I can get bunk beds now? (prior to this they’d not been allowed). Swiftly followed by the decision that Laura and I would be naming the new baby, whether the parental units liked that or not, and then off I merrily hopped to brush the lengthening hair of my purple carthorse My Little Pony. Clearly having a nother sibling wasn’t as earth-shattering for me as my parents had anticipated and they even agreed to our name choices hence Bex is formally known as Rebecca (Lau) Charlotte (me). I’m so glad that I reacted how I did to the news of an impending arrival, not that I would have stayed upset/disappointed/angry/jealous or anything else for long once Beccabear arrived, but it still pleases me that I was excited about her even when she was a tiny creature. She’s such an important person to me now, in all her cheerful, happy, friendly, non-judgemental, hilarious way, that I’d hate her to know there was a tiny part of me that didn’t want her to arrive even if only for a fleeting moment as a nearly eight year old freckly little girl.