Day 4 of the 31 Day Blog Challenge and a New Challenge for You!

Before we get started, I wanted to say a quick thank you to my readers! I have received nothing but positive responses. I truly started this blog on a whim and thought that it was going to be read by only my parents. After some encouragement from my mom, I posted it on Facebook. When I logged on to write this post, my second day of the blog challenge was at 100 views. Thank you all for showing me so much support! If you have any questions or comments, feel free to leave them below or on any of my social media pages.

When I saw today's blog prompt, I audibly groaned. Now that I look at the rest of the prompts, I may regret choosing this challenge. In my opinion, a lot of these are stereotypical and dull. Perhaps, that's the challenge of it.

I have a mind that lingers in the past much longer than it should. My thoughts are the grand champions of negativity. I'm not at all saying I had a bad childhood. I was a fortunate child with wise parents and a supportive older sister. Never did I have to worry about my parents losing their jobs and we were always comfortable. In fact, I believe I have a bond to my parents unique to other families. Not once was I left at home with a babysitter; where my parents went, us kids went.  In the rare times that we were apart, I stayed with my grandparents.

I lived and breathed softball and was passionate about animal rescue. We went camping often and my mom read to me almost every night. If it did not involve a dog, I wasn't interested. Therefore, I have yet to see many Disney classics that are not 101 Dalmatians or Lady and the Tramp. The other day in my literary criticism class, my professor asked me my favorite movie. As a joke, I confidently replied, "The first Air Bud. I mean, the dog plays basketball and eats pudding." The class laughed but deep down, it might have been the truth. If you asked the six-year-old in me, it is my favorite movie.

The only thing my parents did wrong was not making me a baby model.
 I mean, look at that sass already. Also, beardless Mike looks like a different man.

Independence was well-known to me. I wanted to do things on my own and I still hate group projects. Somehow, I ended up being a good student. I still pride myself on achieving the highest amount of Accelerated Reading points each year. That has to be worth something, right?

I'm still uncertain as to if I want to have children. I have never been a motherly person, and I am far too frugal to be buying baby formula and diapers. It is also terrifying to look at the giant shoes my parents left me to fill. I mean, my mom's shoe size is 10 and I'm a size 8. I have more of the "cool aunt" persona and usually have an easy time befriending youngsters.

What parents like the most about their children is their ability to bring out the child inside them. As tiring as children are, parents yearn for the days when they were buying action figures and wiping crayon off the walls. To parent is to revisit and revive a part of you that was long forgotten. Yet, we refer to immaturity as "being childish" and surround childlike behavior with a negative connotation.

I suppose you're asking yourself when I am going to answer today's prompt. The problem is, I cannot pinpoint one moment of my life I consider to be the earliest. However, I can describe the feeling.

What I miss the most about the girl I left in Indiana is her imagination. She could become excited about hypothetical events. She was unstoppable and firm in her future. I was content sitting inside and mapping out my own fictional universe in my head. She was already in love with her adult self and never once doubted her ability to master every skill. You can see why I worry about disappointing her.

At a young age, your senses are heightened and fascinated by what is now considered mundane. When we learn to not be childish, we surrender an enthusiasm for the world. I must admit, this may not be as uplifting as you had hoped.

The good news is, I do not believe that feeling is forever absent from our lives. The other day, my roommate asked me what I considered to be my purpose. This complicated question cannot have a simple answer, so I told her the truth. I told her it was out there but I had not found it yet. I think my purpose will be whatever makes me feel as I did when I was invincible.

When I consider abandoning my ambitions, I think of the little girl who made a promise to her future self. In this unwavering paradox, I am returned to reality.

After this contradictory post, please enjoy me as a child with a temporary tattoo,
 a "wifebeater" tank-top and a fake motorcycle.

Your challenge! Do something today that your child self would be proud of you for. If you are comfortable, leave what you did or are planning on doing in the comments. 

EDIT: For instance, today I built two benches with my dad. I loved watching him saw wood and build furniture, and I know baby Madeline would have equally enjoyed the benches. I don't expect you to want to build benches, but maybe you can watch an old movie or go for a walk. Make up a game for you and your pet. The options are open.