Nostalgia has been getting to me lately. On multiple occasions, the Spokane winter nearly drove me to spend the entire day in bed, eating Teddy Grahams and alphabet soup while watching Dragon Tales. But the sun is out, the number of ugly snow splotches on the lawn of College Hall has been reduced to TWO (as of yesterday morning), and Starbucks has introduced spring-themed cups. Spring is upon us, calling us to frolick in the grass, prematurely purchase swimsuits, and go adventuring in lieu of studying. In a similar spirit, I think spring also compels us – particularly after this year’s winter – to appreciate the warmth and beauty of the season as we did during childhood. The freedoms and simple joys that we experienced as kids are not automatically restricted to memory at the age of adulthood – nor should they be. If anything, I think that recreating the following childhood staples could be a source of liberation for college students and adult-adults alike, prompting the vital realization that adulthood does not have to be sad-hood.
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Storytime
As a child, my parents and preschool teacher were top-notch storytellers. The stories they shared with me, ranging from ghost tales to the adventures of their own childhoods, possessed a universally magical, transcendent quality. They could transport me beyond my bed or my “criss-cross applesauce” stance during Circle Time into worlds that were thrilling, unknown, and invariably subject to the personal experiences of the storyteller.
As I have become older, however, the fantastical has gradually evolved into the factual, and the stories I hear are increasingly limited to ten-second blurbs about homework and bad Cog food. Although the nature of the stories we hear and tell has changed dramatically, I still love the uniqueness of the individual voices that relay stories to others. Oftentimes, the voice is the most powerful attribute of a good story – and while our parents are no longer ready at our bedsides every night with a storybook, I still get my daily dose of storytelling from my latest discovery: podcasts.
I am certainly not a podcast connoisseur, but my current favorite is Stuff You Should Know with Josh Clark and Chuck Bryant. Josh sounds like Kermit the Frog, Chuck can always be relied on to provide awkward commentary – and together, they create weekly auditory masterpieces that explore how things work, ranging from famines, to free speech, to quinoa, to why so many disembodied feet are washing ashore in British Columbia. Join the podcast fan/nerd club, invite your friends, and recapture the universal magic of storytelling.
Chuck (left) and Josh (right)
2. Spontaneous craft-making
The best days of my childhood consisted of splatter paint, glitter abuse, and glue-encrusted fingernails. I drew horses that defied all principles of anatomy, illustrated short stories, wrote weird poems, and made ant houses out of twigs, because ants need homes too. Today, I sort of have an excuse (and an obligation) to focus on my creative side as an Art major, but even for the super-busy and artistically inept (which, by the way, do not exist in my mind), it is so crucial – and so rewarding – to get the creative juices flowing, ideally on a daily basis.
Adult coloring books are all the rage, and I would imagine that they are quite therapeutic, although I haven’t really joined the party. For me, the best way to unwind after classes and homework is simply by doodling: on my notes, in my journal, on my hand with a pen. Conversely, words are another creative vessel, and may be preferred by those who are less confident in their artistic prowess (although I would again argue that most people are naturally artistic – we just lose sight of it as we become older!). I have been keeping a journal this year, and as cliche as it sounds, it has been a lifesaver for me: a way to release my thoughts and simultaneously capture them as written (or doodled) memories. I carry both my sketchbook and journal in my backpack so that I can access them whenever inspiration strikes, promoting the spontaneous creativity that characterized my childhood.
3. Reading in bed with a flashlight
Some of my best childhood memories consist of late summer nights spent reading in my bed. I would fashion a mini teepee out of my bed sheets, extending my neck awkwardly to form the peak of the teepee. Some of my favorite reads were Little House on the Prairie, anything by Roald Dahl, James Herriot, and the Allie Finkle’s Rules for Girls series. Harry Potter is a given, of course, but I could never get into A Series of Unfortunate Events (sorry). Sometimes, my dad would walk into my room before he went to bed and surprise me with a sippy-cup filled with milk and “Ovaltine”, which is kind of like an old-fashioned Nesquiky-chocolate-powder thing, and it tastes best when snuggled in bed with a flashlight and a good book.
Many of us lament the lack of time for “fun reading” during the school year, but I certainly made up for this during winter break. I found a headlamp that I used to wear to bed as a kid, and I unashamedly used it while re-reading some of my favorite books in bed. I may or may not have taken a selfie to commemorate the moment. The moral of this story is not necessarily to wear a headlamp to bed, but to instead reflect on that hour (or two…) spent scrolling through Instagram, and restructure that time for more productive, rewarding forms of relaxation. It may be reading for some, journaling for others, or maybe just sleeping – let’s be honest (see below!). Ditch the lights and find a flashlight (or a headlamp, if you’re really gung ho) if you want to recreate the childhood ambiance of reading in bed on a warm summer night.
4. Starbucks Butterhorns (Anybody??)
Why do bad things happen to good people? I recall many nights spent tossing and turning in my bed, wrestling with this question as I struggled to accept the discontinuation of Starbucks “butterhorns”. These were flaky, slightly sweet and cinnamony pastries, rolled into a longish rod that I guess was supposed to resemble a horn. They were delicious. I knew that my mom was in a good mood when she bought my brother and I butterhorns at the Starbucks drive-thru, sort of similar to how I now gauge her mood based on whether or not she uses smiley-faces in her texts.
While I have finally reached a state of closure regarding the butterhorn cancellation (and near ruin of my childhood), I still crave the nostalgic, buttery goodness of a butterhorn. I did a bit of research, and found the following recipe HERE. It is certainly possible to recreate the Starbucks butterhorn, although I couldn’t tell you how accurately this recipe resembles the “real deal”. I hope to make it soon, however, and will hopefully be able to re-live one of the joys of my childhood.
Don’t be afraid to take some time this Spring to re-discover the joy and excitement of being a kid again!