Magical update

Remember this post?

Milo is busy keeping the secrets of Finnegan's toystore. Forever.

When we chat about it, he says (in the tone of DUH, which at 4.5 is less annoying than I bet it will be when he's 15), "mo-ooom, it was a SECRET! I can't tell the SECRET!!!"

Love love love love love that boy!!!!

Magical

So...here's a little magical thing that happened to us yesterday: Milo has this friend who is ALWAYS telling him some amazing whoppers. One of these is that there is a secret room at Finnegan's Toy Store where "the REALLY good toys" are kept. After months of feeding this story together, the two boys have a complicated mythology about that room: it's guarded by two armed monster-guys, it's up some hidden staircase, every year they pick a child who gets a key to this room, etc. etc. Yesterday I picked Milo up early and he BEGGED me to go hunting for the mythical room at Finnegan's. So we did. Of course, we didn't find it. So I suggested we ask this lone clerk about the secret. Milo was shy to ask, so I told the clerk that SOMEBODY at my son's preschool had heard about this secret room at Finnegan's. Was it true? And the guy was SOOO awesome. He pulled Milo down in a huddle and told him all this great stuff. That it wasn't 1 room, but 6 rooms connected by a maze. That only employees can ever know about the secret rules that governs the rooms. That Milo is entrusted with a GREAT secret knowing all that stuff about the rooms. It was SO AWESOME! Some people can just be magical. Milo's eyes shone the whole way home. And in bed. And this morning. And now he wants to work at Finnegan's when he's a grown up so he can know the secrets. And be a Kung Fu Master. And design robots. :)

Useless

A few of my friends are simultaneously going through some tough times. And...I think I suck at being a great support when things are rough. Maybe this is typical?

In my family, there's a lot of "things will be fine, we love you" response to general personal angst, but the underlying message usually seems to be "suck it up, whiner".

Also, I think Mormon culture, or just the general post-pioneer-post-Depression-era stoicism of where-and-how I was raised, religious culture aside, tends to want to paint a smiley face on pain. Preferably with lipstick.

See? Pain feels better post-lipstick, Mother T, no?

I find this in my parenting as well. It's taken (and will continue to take) some time and work to just...let the sadness happen with the kids. Let them be where they are, without trying to fix, coddle or cajole them. And know that sometimes, they just need to be sad...until they aren't, anymore.

With my friends, though, I'm not sure where or how to be.

Maybe it's because I've been on the wrong end of suicidally down, and so I take long-term depression really seriously. Or maybe it IS my desire to see everyone up and happy and all right with the world.

At any rate, I'm in the midst of trying to be loving and present, without being overbearing, overcheerful, over-fixit or over-serious. To several people at once. Sans lipstick. Plus love.

Ahhhh...what is there to scream about with lovely Farrah hair?

Clearly I'm awesome at it...(yikes!)