 |
|||||||||||||||
|
After reading this blog entry that Estera discovered, I really began to appreciate the work ethic that my parents instilled in me from a very young age.
I'm not even going to get into the ridiculous array of extracurricular activities I've dabbled in, but in elementary school there was never a summer without the accompaniment of supplementary workbooks. My mom was the mastermind in ordering reading, writing, and math books at least one level above the grade my brother and I were entering into. My dad, on the other hand, was the one on the sidelines who impounded into my brain, "There's no such thing as a break. Breaks are for getting ahead." You would think that our summers were lousy with all work and no play, but that was quite the contrary! My fondest childhood memories are doing those workbooks. I'm not crazy, really. With the help of a wild imagination and the provision of a great backyard,I remember those summers as completing those workbooks in the "treehouse" full of old sofa pillows and blankets with my brother and our dogs, or in a sprinkler-proof tent that we set up on the lawn. I was and still am a victim child of two working parents. Much of my daytime childhood was spent with my grandmas. However, there was NEVER an instance I felt neglected by my mom or my dad. They taught their children the values of hard work and diligence, a loving home, and a closely knit family. |
||||||||||||||
