Magical Thinking

As a parent, I feel obligated to look back fondly on all of my child's development (except maybe that whole colicky (Bry), sleep-deprived (us) period - perhaps we can just forget that ever happened). But this stage right now strikes me as particularly wonderful and also particularly challenging. Never mind that wonderful and challenging are probably apt descriptors for any stage of parenting.

At least once a day, Steve and I chuckle to ourselves about Bry's absolute faith in our abilities to conjure up anything his heart desires. Sitting at a stoplight, Bry has been known to say, more than once, "Green, please!" Or on his less agreeable days, "Cars stuck! Move cars!" He seems to fully expect us to alter the space-time continuum (or traffic laws) in order to meet his unique, ever-shifting needs. Like his need to see particular vehicles on the road right! now! Even if, on the off-chance that we happen to pass by an excavator, garbage truck, or semi truck within the time frame that Bry deems acceptable, he is usually not satisfied by a passing glance. "Closer, maybe!" he shouts. Or "another one!" Or "again!" I choose to view these demands as wonderfully affirming of my skills as a parent (or maybe as a magician). Sure! I can find a logging truck in the midst of downtown Minneapolis! Why not?

But, since Bry has yet to comprehend the limited capacity of the universe, or his parents, to magically present whatever he desires at any given moment, failure to produce sometimes leads to, shall we say, extravagant displays of will on Bry's part. Responses seem to alternate between whining and shrieking. Hence the challenge. There is no reasoning with a toddler who is dead set, say, on magically warping from daycare to home. From the backseat, I'll hear cries of "Home! Home! Home! Home!" which will continue unabated until I acknowledge, "Bry wants to be home right now!" "Right now!" he echoes. His distress never seems to lessen when I explain that my faster-than-light drive is in the shop for repairs. All the touchy-feely* parenting books we've been reading emphasize the importance of acknowledging kids' desires, even when they are impossible, per the laws of physics, while maintaining that, no, we can't find a water tower at this particular moment. For example. A lot of the time we fudge it, saying, "You want to find a [insert construction vehicle here], huh? We can try to find a [insert construction vehicle here], Bry." This satisfies him for a few moments, and he'll chime in, "Hmm. Excavator? (in a sing-songy voice) Hmm. Excavator hiding." But I'm afraid he's catching on that, "We can try to find [insert construction vehicle here] is code for, "Sorry kiddo, mama and daddy just aren't as magical as we might like to be."

Fast-forwarding some years to when Bry will surely see us as magical only in the Midas sense of turning everything he finds fun into something that is disallowed, I think I'll miss these days when he believes that we are really magical. Even if he doesn't think of it in quite those terms.

*In the positive sense.