Much of the time I don’t recall the activities I did as a child with my parents. There are pieces here and there and events that stand out in my mind. I can’t remember a lot of the time I spent with my parents, only what they share with me. A spontaneous trip to Ikea today, I asked the kids if they wanted to go and they were pretty excited about the idea. There is a play area for the kids and it gets us out of the house for a little. I wanted to get some art organizing supplies, to encourage more art and creativity vs. the perfected art of sitting in front of the tv or other screen. Don’t get me wrong, I love technology and all of its perks and forms of communication technology provides, just I am a big fan of having the kids still use their brilliant minds that they have so much room to create things in. Returning to my original thought, I turned to my kids as we entered the Ikea parking lot and expressed to them that I don’t know if I will remember the exact moment we were in the car together at Ikea or if they would remember this moment either, though I wanted them to know that I love them. It is crazy sometimes how childhood can seem like such a different life. A different lifetime from long ago, a make-believe world, a land of imagination. When they look back on events of their lives, I hope the can remember my simple message to them, I love them and I am so grateful to have the time to spend with them. Especially, in these days of hustle, bustle and time that seems to pass so quickly. I want my kids to know I love them.