It's time to head home from our week visiting my mum & dad in Liverpool now and it's always a bit bittersweet. The kids always have so much fun when we visit, we only manage to come once or twice a year at most so they don't get to pop around to grandmas house whenever they fancy it which I always think is a shame. My visits to my Nans house every week or so are one of the stand out memories of my childhood - she always used to hide some sweets for me in the cupboard "from the fairies", and when I think back I swear I can smell the familiar odour that used to hit you when you opened her pantry door - I can remember every nook and cranny of her house, including the bump in the kitchen floor where a trees roots had pushed through and the trinkets and treasures I'd find in her dressing table when she'd let me root through it for hours, in search of deep dark family secrets (I always had hopes of finding adoption certificates for myself for some reason, I watched far too much Home & Away! The most interesting thing I ever found was her pension book!) It makes me a bit sad that my kids childhoods are so different to my own - our family is spread far and wide these days, and there's no family to even speak of on their Dads side with his parents long gone. But I hope that weeks like these will give them some of those memories to look back on when they're older. How different are your childrens childhoods to your own?