I was a strange child.

G: Growing Up
I couldn't think of any specific stories off the top of my head, so I thought I'd just share a few based off of the archive of photos of photos I have on my computer.
This would be my mom when she was newly pregnant with me... trying to show off her "bump."  She does not look twenty-five, does she?  I'm pretty sure this is the first photograph taken when I was in existence.

This picture is of me at four years old.  I was living in Waco, Texas.  We had a swing in our driveway.  At this time, my family lived in a small rental house without much of a yard while my dad was finishing up residency, so the swing and a plastic slide was all I had by way of outside entertainment.  I spent hours on this thing.
It's going to sound totally bizarre, but most of the time I was playing on the swing, I pretended like I was a piglet.  My parents would always try to sit me on my bottom and convince me to swing normally, but I didn't want to do that.  I would get on my stomach with my little arms dangling in the air, and then I would slowly creep back until I was on my very tip toes.  When I let go, I would fly through the air for a few short moments.  During this time, I would proceed to wriggle my arms and legs and make a high-pitched squealing noise, pretending like I was a piggie running from a wolf or a butcher.
Seriously.
I know, I know I was a strange child who played strange games.  Ali was just teasing me a week or two ago after we watched Beauty and the Beast for the millionth time.  She said she always used to pretend she was Belle after seeing the movie.  Well, I used to pretend I was the wolves who attacked Beast and Belle's dad.  As a kid, I always thought they were way cool.
So basically, the reason why I'm on my stomach on this swing is because I was pretending I was a pig running from a killer.  And I was four.

I cannot BELIEVE I'm about to post this, but I'm covered up in all the right places with bubbles, so I figure it doesn't matter.  This is me at approximately six or seven years old taking a bubble bath in my parents' bathtub.  You might notice the long line of "little people," as my family always called them.  These were my favorite toys.  Most kids act out their dolls and action figures, right?  I never really did that.
I've always been a writer.  Writing is a passion I believe God has always given me.  I would get my little people, put them in lines, and then make up stories about them, not even bothering to act them out.  I just made up stories.  Before I could actually write, I would whisper them or speak them out loud, narrating the stories and everything.  "Flash walked through the forest, crying.  He was the loneliest giraffe ever.  But then Molly came and gave him a huge hug!"  Once I learned to write, around the age I am in this picture, I would line up my toys and then spend hours scribbling out stories about them in thick, college-ruled notebooks.

Here I met my childhood hero, Miss Texas.  I have an autographed poster from her, which I got at first from one of my dad's patients.  After I met her at a charity run, as you can see in this photograph, she sent me a hand-written card with the sweetest note inside.  I still have that card.  It meant so much to me.  Later, she sent me an invitation to a banquet right before she became Miss Texas.  I even made it on the news that night, which excited me to no end.  I still admire Miss Texas for reaching out like she did to a little girl who thought Morgan Matlock was the prettiest and most amazing lady ever.

This would be me at age four.  I was pretending like I was driving a car with my infant sister, who was ten months old.  What makes me laugh about this picture is how all of us managed to fit into this tiny laundry basket.  Who knows how many stuffed animals I squashed in that thing?  I sure loved my dalmatians.

And finally, this would be me as a homeschooled eight year old.  That night, I informed my parents that one of my many teddy bears and I were going to have a birthday party (because it was his birthday, of COURSE).  I wanted Mom to buy me party hats, but her answer was no.  So I spent the LONGEST time making these hats.  I was very excited about them.  I thought they looked better than any silly hats you could ever find at a store.  So my bear and I had a birthday party that night, right before bedtime.

What are some of your favorite childhood memories?
If you'd like to start this challenge on your blog, please give me the link in the comments below.  I would LOVE to see your answers for each topic. :)