“Here’s Looking at You, Kid” : Parenting Your Inner Children
It’s 8pm and I’m driving home from a long day at the studio. Crossing the majestic Golden Gate, uplit against the eggplant sky, I begin to exhale, symbolically leaving that part of my world behind me. Winding through the Waldo Tunnel, I drop down into the green-hilled bosom of Marin County. Suddenly there is a small finger lightly tapping my shoulder whispering “What treat can we have when we get home?” I ignore it at first, but that finger becomes more persistent as I speed past two golden arches calling to passersby like twin carnival barkers.
“Absolutely not!” I say being the good mother.
“Ohhh…come ON!!” the tiny voice pleads.
“No way! Besides they’re not even made of real potatoes.” I rationalize.
I’ve learned rationalization doesn’t work with a five year-old, nor a seven year-old, or even a nine year-old when they reaaally want something. But I’ve resolved to be strong over the years..especially when it comes to food.
Now you may be asking why I had a car load of kids on my way home from work? I didn’t stop at a soccer practice or ballet class, or even daycare. These were all my children…my sweet, lovely, innocent, partially neurotic, and sometimes exceedingly annoying children. They are in fact my inner children. There are many and gratefully easy to keep track of, since they all bear the same name. Now before you roll your eyes and close this browser window, hang with me and read on because this is not your typical ’embrace your inner child’ namby-pamby post. It’s about to get real!