Keep them young and carefree as long as you can. That is my underlying theme in raising kids.
They will have plenty of time to ‘adult’ later in life.
I don’t see any harm in letting them believe in an over-sized bunny that hops around leaving Chocolate eggs for Easter.
I don’t see any harm in letting them believe there is a fat man with a long white beard and white hair, who squeezes through your chimney/climbs through an open window, and after indulging in some carrots/cookies/milk, leaves you some much-desired gifts.
Let them even believe your little white lies “We have to go home NOW because the park is closing for lunch.”
“The beach is closing! See? It’s getting too cold so it’s closing.”
“If you splash in the bath too hard the spiders will come.”
But don’t even suggest the fantastical idea of boogeymen or scary things lurking under the bed. They definitely don’t exist, but if Santa and the Easter bunny are, this seems just as likely. Anything that leads to an interrupted nights sleep for your littlies, don’t EVEN. Don’t even go there.
Keep them naïve. Innocent. Unknowing. Fresh. Keep them untainted.
Let them even believe, in MAGIC.
I started this a while back, when baby girl fell and hurt herself. She is fascinated with band-aids, but don’t try to put one on her! That is a worse-r hell than the injury she has sustained herself. Don’t even.
So I had to get creative. My forte. I love to imagine, and create, and send wild thoughts into the atmosphere.
“Mummy do Magic,” I had said to her. “Doo doo doo doo doo” like the sound of an old-school phone connecting, as I brought my lips close to her wound. I patted it with alternating hands in quick succession, letting out a “ch!” sound with a big blow, a big kiss and a dramatic pull-back of “Magic!”
She LOVED it.
Every time she was hurt or sore, Mummy had to do Magic. I’ve studied psychology. I know all about the placebo effect. I was fascinated to see the Magic actually working, like Magic I guess (!), on baby girl. Of course, anything serious and I wouldn’t even suggest something like that, I am a Mother, I DO KNOW THE DIFFERENCE. A scrape requires Magic. Something more serious, a doctor.
Even if so, some ‘light Magic’ would help ease the woes on the drive over I’m sure.
Since all we are dealing with is little scrapes and bumps, Magic has been a saviour.
And then, when one day I was sore, she performed Magic, on ME.
She does it regularly and often now. She will perform Magic on herself. It’s like a self-help tool to assist her in moving on. And it actually helps: she does MOVE ON.
Tonight as I sat on the couch talking about how I wasn’t feeling the best, and how my lower back had been sore yesterday, she promptly finished up drinking her nightly milk, pushed me forward, and tinkled her fingers against my back.
“Doo doo doo doo doo” she went, kissed my back, and then went “Dash!”
Dash, is Magic.
Funnily enough, she has also extended this to when I am mad, and have road rage. I am a much calmer person on the road with baby girl in my car, but still, I will say “what are you doing? Seriously? What a silly, silly person!”
“Can you drive? Come on, move it!”
“Mummy is very angry right now, there is a very cheeky driver on the road.”
And she’ll go “doo doo doo doo doo” a kiss, and “Dash!”
I find it hilarious that she does this on me, and in varying situations. She now actually believes that Magic will solve almost anything. Sometimes I will be unwell and I know I am incapable of moving on from it immediately, and when she does Magic, I think ‘how do I get out of this one? How do I fake being healthy again? For the sake of believing in Magic?’
But, it makes me smile… and for a moment I forget I am sick/sore… and I guess that’s kind of Magic in itself, isn’t it? 😉