There are so many things I love about being a mommy. I could make an impressive list. However, one of the things I really love is getting the chance to share my passions with my children and watch them discover them for the first time. It's like rediscovering all of the things I love all over again through their eyes.
When Parker was three, and his daddy was away on another deployment, we were snuggling together one day when we came upon Star Wars on television. I don't even remember which one it was, except that it was one of the original three, and that he was hooked from the first moment he saw Darth Vader. I did what any rational mother would do, and went out that same week to buy the entire set on Blu Ray so that we could watch them together. I probably spent more time watching him. Oh, how his eyes lit up. Oh how they danced. Before the summer was out our home was filled with light sabers, tiny Playschool action figures meant for small ones, (because Bash needed to be able to play too, and was too young for tiny, removable parts) and the Millennium Falcon. We dressed as Star Wars characters for Halloween that year, my three year old insisted on growing his hair out "like Anakin", and I had my first taste of what it was like to share a passion with my child.
It happened again with Harry Potter. I watched as my boys reached for their letters with Harry, as they boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time, and as they got their first wands. They were handmade pieces of wood from Mommy, covered in hot glue and paint, but for a moment I felt like Ollivander himself. I'm only slightly disappointed that they saw these things in movie form before hearing them read, but I look forward to starting the first book with them this year. They are ready, and so am I!
One of my daughters first ten words was "doll", and I have walked the American Girl store with her many times delighting over her every "Oooohhhhh!" She pushes about strollers, and covers babies with blankets, and every so often she will stop with her mouth open in a big, round "O" and just take everything in. I poured over those catalogs as a little girl, dreaming of one day saving up enough money for my own. The first time I stepped into a store I was 30, pregnant, and it is rumored that I cried. I was able to give my daughter her first baby doll for her birthday, and watch as her little face lit up and she earned the name "Little Mama".
The same thing happened the first time she came face to face with a Care Bear. There was no way that my tiny girl could have possibly known about her mama's Care Bear collection. She has no idea about the years worth of Care Bear cakes my amazing Grandmama made for me as I grew up. But she threw her arms around Funshine Bear and covered her heart shaped nose with open mouthed baby kisses. I can't tell you exactly how fast Funshing made her way into our cart to come home for Christmas, but I'm pretty sure that I would have broken a world record had an official from Guinness been there to time it.
We've started watching The Hobbit movies with the boys last week. We debated some of the more frightening parts, but finally decided that it was something they could handle. I'm glad we did. I listened today as my boys danced around the house with their wooden swords, battling orcs as Galdalf and "Bildoh", and bemoaning the fact that they didn't have a magic ring and were too young to grown a proper wizard beard. I think I need to re-read the book again now after rediscovering it through the eyes of my children. They allow for so much magic to come back into my life when I can be open to it. I love when old magic becomes new to me again, and I hope that I can thank them for that properly one day.
**I know that this post is coming well after midnight, but it still counts for my January 7th post, because I haven't been to bed yet. :) **
