"OK, did you yell for me so that I can carry you in my pouch out to the livingroom?"
"Actually, I'm a baby puppy and I yelled for you because you didn't give me enough kissies once," and she proceeded to kiss me about twenty times in a row, then she cheerfully got up and got dressed. Good morning, three year old.
My kids have always had big imaginations and I usually play along with their ever-evolving storylines. I remember when Camille was about 5 years old and she told me that she couldn't always hear me because her fairies were too loud, and something clicked for me. Of course! I used to feel the same way.
Adults need not impose their more "rational", stolid version of reality on children We can relish in their delight and rich imaginings. Storytelling at its most instinctual is a natural state for children. From my experience, they can tell the difference between real and imaginary, but they don't always want to.
Camille has a bestest, most special-est dollie that I made her when she was three years old. I don't think that Camille has slept a night without Ella since the night of her third birthday. Sometimes when her younger sisters are driving her crazy as younger sisters sometimes do, she puts Ella in a carrier and takes off on a grand adventure, out past the solar panels and into the great beyond. She's 10. She likes learning how to write code and play guitar, and wants a skateboard for Christmas, but she's not too grown for her Ella. I love that.
A couple of weeks ago our main computer died, so I've naturally been spending a lot less time online. My sewing machine took over its spot on the desk, which is great timing for working on Christmas presents. Ayla is due for a Mama-made dollie, methinks.
random sunset pic :)
rehearsing Peace Like a River
At six years old, Sylvia loves computer games almost as much as she loves to play dress-up. Whether she's being a princess ballerina or a doctor-dragon-pirate she throws herself fully into each role. I love her enthusiasm, even though I can't always keep up with it.
body art and a sister portrait
In the night, as Ayla lay sleeping in my bed, she smiled in her dream and shouted, "ta-da!" I quietly applauded her dream-accomplishment, "yay, Ayla!" Without opening her eyes, she smiled broader and drifted back into her dream.
Rather than thinking that their imaginary play is nonsense, I'm honored that they feel comfortable sharing it with me!