My Clara Rival

A fun childhood memory was when I was picked to be Clara in our ballet's performance of the Nutcracker.  Wait, no I TIED with someone else.  Immediately she became my rival as I was brown-haired, brown-eyed, and she was blonde and blue-eyed.  For some reason I developed a deep sense of competition with my equally talented ballet classmate.  Not only did we compete to be Clara and tied, but then we had to draw to see who would perform on the big stage in a theater and who would perform next to Orange Julius in the South Towne Mall Food Court.  

We each drew a paper out of a top hat, and low - it wasn't meant to be.

Thus, me and my horrendous teeth performed in front of many Christmas shopping strangers, with the aroma of Hot Dog on a Stick in the air.

Why is this a happy memory you ask?  Because ten years later that particular ballet rival became my best friend, and we are still like sisters today.  Love you Deb.

- Lisa Marie Trent, Salt Lake City, UT

Line-Free Boy

Secondly, my favorite childhood memory of my son Jack (so far) is when he became line-free.  Jack spent the first month of his life in Primary Children's Hospital and was attached to multiple lines (IV, Central Venus Pressure, O2 Saturations, Feeding Tubes...) after he had open heart surgery.  In March of 2006 (so three years ago and three months after he was born) they took the last line off, which was oxygen.  We could finally carry Jack about our house without having to drag his O2 tank or feeding tower with him.  It was amazing.  What a simple freedom.

- Lisa Marie Trent, Salt Lake City, UT

Crazy Hair Day

As I was going through some old pictures I stumbled across these awesome pictures taken on "Crazy Hair Day."  This is a picture of me, my brother, and my sister off to school sporting our freshly created do's.  The thing I love most about this picture is how we apparently transformed with our hair - into crazy!  Deborah literally looks possessed in this picture.  Being a girl of fashion, I also couldn't help but notice and LOVE our outfits.  Note Deborah's acid wash jeans, my homemade stamped shirt, and my brother's "Paradise Yogurt" tee - a place we would frequent quite often as a family.  Looking back it really makes me miss those days of care free living where our main concern was "What am I going to do for Crazy Hair Day?"  I think we pulled it off with success! (Thanks to our resident hair stylist, Mom.)

- Rachel White Miller, Salt Lake City, UT

Sisters, Sisters

One of my favorite memories was growing up with three sisters.  We were all best friends (except for the times when we made each other cry).  We always had someone to dress up with, play barbies with, and drive around on our big wheels with on those long summer nights.  I loved Easter when our mom would take us all shopping to pick out our Easter dresses and when we were younger she would make all of them.  Here is a picture of Jamie, me, and Jill on Easter morning (sorry Jade, I couldn't find a picture with all of us in it).  

Now I'm just glad I have at least one little girl to dress up on these fun holidays.

- Julie Burton, Lehi, UT

Cocky Little Ballerina

For me, one of my best childhood memories is of being a little ballerina.  I remember thinking that if I was put at the front of the class, then that meant I was the best.  In recitals, I was ALWAYS in front - therefore, I was a cocky little ballerina.  Now that I look back on those days, I see that I was always put in the front, NOT because I was the best, but because I was the SHORTEST.  It makes sense.  

How much do I look like a mini drag queen with all that make-up on?  Thanks Mom.

- Laura Campbell, Marina Del Rey, CA

My Soap Bikinis

One of my favorite stories of my childhood was making soap bikinis.  I remember whipping up a bunch of foam in the bath tub and then carefully constructing some of the most stylish swimwear of the season.  It's a pitty that none of them lasted through any sort of contact with water.  But they were still cute!

-Carly Anderson, Provo, UT

My Blankie and Me

Rachel is still very attached to her blanket - it seems almost more now than a few years ago.  She says things like, "It's like my blanket is magic.  It makes me feel so good."  Other times she'd say, "It's like my blanket is a drug and I'm hooked on it."

My mom wrote that entry in her journal when I was eight years old.  I'm turning 26 in a couple of months and I'm still attached to my blanket.  As I drove up to my parent's house last week, I steered the car with one hand, while the other held a corner of my blanket to my nose - it was like magic and it made me feel so good.

I remember sitting on the couch watching Mr. Roger's Neighborhood.  Mr. Rogers was talking about drugs and why people got addicted to them.  At the young age of six or seven, I knew why people were addicted to drugs - it made them feel good.  And I knew my blanket was my drug... and I was hooked on it.  

My blanket is falling apart now.  I don't know if it will last another washing but I'm pretty sure I'm not ready to give up the comfort, peace, and security it still gives to me.  I guess I can't wash it.  

- Rachel White, Sandy, UT