Rewriting the Magic

Dear John,


Someone, or maybe it was the world in general, tried to tell me long ago that the dreams we make for ourselves as small children will be replaced by more realistic dreams as we grow.  That childhood is for play and adulthood is for work.  I was taught to enjoy my childhood while it lasted because it would be over before I knew it.  The Toys R Us commercials sang Peter Pan's song denying the inevitability of growing up and as charming as it was to say "I won't grow up!" we all knew it was a lie.  Christopher Robin leaves the Hundred Acre Wood and Wendy leaves the nursery.  Even in song, I was given the cautionary tale of Jackie Paper, who one day woke up and forgot to go to Cherry Lane.

But....

This Christmas Break I have played computer games and board games.  I have built Legos and constructed a play kitchen out of cardboard boxes and duct tape.  And in all of these endeavors, not only has your dad indulged me, he has been right there with me.  He built his own Lego creations.  He and I negotiated for turns on the computer.  We played board games with faux French accents (okay, that was over Thanksgiving).  And we still got together with some other friends and played some D&D.  I fought a Bugbear and won.  Your dad told the story and invented a new voice for some shrewd business-halfings.

Then this evening, I sat in the playroom this evening, watching some silly show about fairies and witches, contemplating playing another computer game, surrounded by Legos, listening to the sound of your dad playing some war game with his friends on XBox.


Did we forget to grow up?  Or is growing up just so very different than I thought it would be?

Either way, I wish I could go back and tell my child self to feel free to dream of being a grown-up, with her own house, with her own rules about silly things like bedtimes and desserts, who wakes up everyday on the never-ending sleepover with her best friend.  Because right now, in this moment, I am living my childhood dream and I never, not ever, dared to dream it would be this good.

Nor did I ever stop to understand that in the midst of all of this joy, I would have your childhood, and your sister's, to share in.

Love,
Mom