Tonight it happened. Something I knew would happen at some point in time but I thought I would have time left yet. I thought I would be more prepared. I thought I would seamlessly brush over the topic with grace and ease or divulge a comforting life lesson. But I didn’t. I was lost for words. I was even more awkward than I knew I was capable of. For one of the few times in my life I wished that it wasn’t my turn to speak. So what got me, the million miles an hour, never had a thought she doesn’t blurt out, person who talks to herself if there’s no one around to listen girl, to pretend I wasn’t in the room.
After my last post, I can guess what you’re thinking. But no, totally seperate topic. So this is how it played out.
Kids bedtime: Children in the adjoining bedrooms both trying to vy for my attention to prolong the inevitable lights out situation. After a brief disagreement about whether or not we are all monkeys – I’m assuming Darwins theory came up at school but little miss is adamant she is in fact a chicken – little man requested 2 minutes of my time as he had something to talk to me about.
This always gets me with my son. Although at that stage of the day I want nothing more than to say the final goodnight, I love you, if you come out again I may kill you; my little man has over the years chosen bedtime as his time he feels comfortable to divulge certain things that are playing on his mind. Never wanting him to not feel like he can talk to me, I begrudgingly went into the room.
So, I already am kind of half laying on his bed, half trying to inch out the door, when he drops his bombshell.
‘Mum. Is the tooth fairy real?’ …….. Long awkward silence…….
‘Mum. Some kids at school are saying that the tooth fairy isn’t real and neither is Santa.” Now I’m freakin! Not Santa! Nooooo!!!!
I distinctly remember that Christmas was nowhere near as exciting once I figured it all out and the gig was up. To prolong it for my children I learnt from my mums mistakes and chose not to do the stocking on the end of the bed so as to not get caught red handed. And what about the cookies and milk and carrots for the reindeer?
He continued. I am still awkwardly silent pining for my long lost innocence.
‘I mean, pfft. It’s like some magical fairy or something. Yeah right. Do you know if it’s real Mum?’
Now there are a couple of conundrums here.
1) Am I about to outright lie to my kid? I get so mad at them when I catch them out lying, how can I look him square in the eyes and do the same?
2) Do I tell him the truth? Then he’s really growing up and he’s loosing his little kid glasses that allow him to veiw the world from such an innocent and carefree place. Why would you not want to prolong that?
3) What does his father want to do about this? I can’t just go and make a spur of the moment decision here without consulting him. Co-parenting can be tricky like that. I guess that would be true for many relationships though.
I am sure there are some really great ideas out there on how to deal with this situation. And please let me know if you wish. My ears and eyes are always open to different perspectives! And perhaps it’s not such a big deal. But I know as an adult, with all the real world stuff we deal with on a daily basis, I would love to have those rose coloured glasses on again some days. Kids grow up so fast it seems. I just want to delay that a little I guess. But I know it’s his journey, not mine.
So what did I say? Well, after honestly the most awkward pause since the classic Tony Abbott interview and a few false starts, I actually gave a very political response.
‘I think it’s nice to believe in things. It keeps the magic alive. Now get some sleep. We’ve got the dentist first thing in the morning.’
How ironic. Wonder if he’ll hit him up for the answer being a tooth expert and all? Maybe I’ll hear a more satisfying response from him. Right now though I’m going to sleep crossing my fingers and toes that this doesn’t come up again over the breakfast table. I’m pretty sure with how much I’m psyching myself out for the chat, my responses will go nowhere helpful.
Let me put it this way. I think if this comes out I’m going to live in my daughters room for a week in her princess tent, tending to my unicorns, sprinkling rainbow sparkles all around having high tea. Now that’s my kind of reality.
Oh and red wine. It must consist of red wine.
Ok, so growing up isn’t all bad… Help please!
Much love, Michelle xxx