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Being “the Guardian” is one of the most exciting jobs as a parent. (if you are wondering why I’m calling it guardian, please refer to the the move “Rise of the Guardians”) I revel in it. You are the magic provider for your children. The fairy dust sprinkler. I’m not a parent who thinks that letting my child partake in all of the fun makes me a giant fibber. If that were the case, then every fictional or fairy tale book would have to be described as as a lie. And that’s just not how I see things. I believe that imagination is key to a well rounded personality. A good healthy imagination that is. I’m a believer in magical days and nights. That children need something to look forward to and dream of and think of, and make scenarios in their heads about. Something to believe in. If you take things like that away, then reality, especially today’s reality, can be heavy for them. So as a parent, I feel it’s my job to make these kinds of things, the things I know will only last a very short time, as magical and as charming as I possibly can.
He waited and waited for that first tooth to come out. And since then they have been almost just falling out on their own. One right after another. He writes notes to her, thanking her for everything she has brought. She writes notes back. He asks questions. She answers them. It’s sweet. I hope he will remember it fondly when he is older.
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