The Best and Worst Ages From Childhood

It recently came up in some blog conversation with Dana at The Daily Dose that we both like the number five a lot.  I just like the number; she likes it because she remembers five as being a really good age from childhood.  That made me think about the best and worst ages of childhood, so here they are:

Worst childhood age:  (Yes, I’m doing worst first.  I really like to end with the positive.)  For me it was definitely six.  My grandparents (my mom’s dad and step-mom) were killed in a car accident that year.  They were hit head-on and died pretty much instantly.  They were the grandparents we saw the most, so I really felt the loss.  My mom also kind of went off the deep end in the months following the accident, and that was a little scary to watch.  Today I think she’d have been encouraged to seek counseling, apparently not so much in the late 80s.

I remember what scared me the most, though, was that was the year I learned that there were things in the world my dad couldn’t fix; any time before that any problem or crises seemed to be resolved when my dad came home from work.  He was the fixer.  I remember waiting in the kitchen for him to come home after my mom got the call and called him at work, and being shocked and scared that we didn’t just magically stop crying when he walked in the door.  In retrospect, I think I was really lucky to have spent the first six years of my life believing there was nothing my dad couldn’t fix.  I know now that not all children have that kind of security at any point in their lives.  (And I still think he can fix almost anything.)

Best childhood age:  For me it was definitely four.  We lived in Texas that year.  As an adult I realize it was probably one of the years that my parents would consider the worst.  We moved from South Carolina to Texas for them to go to work for my grandmother and step-grandfather, and things didn’t go well for them.  I thought it was wonderful at the time though.

They owned an RV park and we ended up living on site, in several different RVs over the course of the year.  I can’t imagine doing that now, and definitely not with a two and four year old and a cat and a dog, but at the time it seemed like a grand adventure.  I had great fun checking out the different features of the different RVs.   And I had free run of the park for biking, swimming, and being fed obscene amounts of candy by retirees who didn’t get to see their own grandchildren as much as they wanted.  It was a great time and place to be four years old. 

So what about you?  What age do you remember as being the worst from your childhood?  What age was the best?  Do you like that number now?