23 April 2006
A Credible Hulk
I'm watching Four and Six create and orchestrate an elaborate setting for a King Kong versus the Incredible Hulk scenario. It's a work-in-progress of no small proportions and complexity. They actually cleared off the play table, which is in itself a Historic Moment. The table was designed as a railroad train/car play space but is infinitely adaptable, as the kids have demonstrated many times a day in the several years we've owned it. Its price tag took my breath away (on sale at that!) when I bought it, but it's proved its worth many times over.
So there's a King Kong who beats his chest and roars, an Incredible Hulk (or as Six calls him, "a Credible Hulk"), a big Little Tykes pirate ship with a "cannon shooter," trees, hills, bridges, boulders, castle parts, weapons, and "guys" from various castle, pirate, knight, soldier, firefighter sets. They narrate as they go along. They negotiate the next move, give the characters back-stories, add and subtract characters.
Their imagination is enchanting. These are kids who get plenty of electronic game time, who've watched more television than they are "supposed to," who have eaten more sugar than I'm allowed to give them and still retain "good mothering" credentials, and who have experienced more early psychological trauma than most of the more neurotic adults I know.
Motherhood is a scary business, no doubt about it. But it's really not as scary as all the "consumer warnings" out there would have you believe. You know all those appliance "safety" labels that are written for, by, and to lawyers?--"Do not operate this electric appliance in a full bathtub" or "Do not chew on the electrical cord" (yes, I really got one that said this) or "Practice engaging and disengaging clipless pedals in a place where there are no obstacles, hazards or traffic; and be sure that you follow the setup and service instructions and warnings which came with your pedals." Well, the Child Rearing Industry has flooded us with similar warnings, disclaimers, and fear-mongering.
I mean, really. If you followed all the advice, modern wisdom, and sheer cant we are bombarded by daily via books, newspapers (remember them?), the internet, and television--not to mention pediatricians who embrace whatever fad comes with the drug samples and free lunches--whatever you ended up raising would not have much resemblance to a real kid. One who gets dirty, who prefers chocolate in his milk and fake scary animals in her entertainment, who will learn naughty words no matter how much cotton you stuff in his ears. The no-fat, no-sugar, no-conflict, no-electronics, no-bad-word, no-refusnik kid does not exist.
If you want one, start studying robotics right now.
There's no Incredible Hulk option in mothering (though there are days your wardrobe greatly resembles his post-transformational duds). No SuperMom, no SuperKid. Don't even try.
There will be plenty enough stuff that's your fault. Your children's therapists will earn the money you will be paying them to hear about your many crimes. But, trust me, the crimes list won't include "She let me watch King Kong and Totally Spies and play Gameboy and eat cookies with real sugar and real butter and go barefoot and duke it out with my sibs as long as there was no arterial spurting."
Mothering just isn't as hard as the experts have made it. It's only hard in the ways it's always been hard--traumas and tragedies and heartbreaks happen and you can't prevent them no matter how many experts are weighing down your bookshelves. But those things aren't your fault. And they'll be easier to get through more or less intact if you put your fingers in your ears and follow your heart.
Don't let all those smart people take the fun out of the hardest job in the world. Just aim at being "a Credible Hulk" and take the rest of it with a grain of salt (not sodium substitute).
So there's a King Kong who beats his chest and roars, an Incredible Hulk (or as Six calls him, "a Credible Hulk"), a big Little Tykes pirate ship with a "cannon shooter," trees, hills, bridges, boulders, castle parts, weapons, and "guys" from various castle, pirate, knight, soldier, firefighter sets. They narrate as they go along. They negotiate the next move, give the characters back-stories, add and subtract characters.
Their imagination is enchanting. These are kids who get plenty of electronic game time, who've watched more television than they are "supposed to," who have eaten more sugar than I'm allowed to give them and still retain "good mothering" credentials, and who have experienced more early psychological trauma than most of the more neurotic adults I know.
Motherhood is a scary business, no doubt about it. But it's really not as scary as all the "consumer warnings" out there would have you believe. You know all those appliance "safety" labels that are written for, by, and to lawyers?--"Do not operate this electric appliance in a full bathtub" or "Do not chew on the electrical cord" (yes, I really got one that said this) or "Practice engaging and disengaging clipless pedals in a place where there are no obstacles, hazards or traffic; and be sure that you follow the setup and service instructions and warnings which came with your pedals." Well, the Child Rearing Industry has flooded us with similar warnings, disclaimers, and fear-mongering.
I mean, really. If you followed all the advice, modern wisdom, and sheer cant we are bombarded by daily via books, newspapers (remember them?), the internet, and television--not to mention pediatricians who embrace whatever fad comes with the drug samples and free lunches--whatever you ended up raising would not have much resemblance to a real kid. One who gets dirty, who prefers chocolate in his milk and fake scary animals in her entertainment, who will learn naughty words no matter how much cotton you stuff in his ears. The no-fat, no-sugar, no-conflict, no-electronics, no-bad-word, no-refusnik kid does not exist.
If you want one, start studying robotics right now.
There's no Incredible Hulk option in mothering (though there are days your wardrobe greatly resembles his post-transformational duds). No SuperMom, no SuperKid. Don't even try.
There will be plenty enough stuff that's your fault. Your children's therapists will earn the money you will be paying them to hear about your many crimes. But, trust me, the crimes list won't include "She let me watch King Kong and Totally Spies and play Gameboy and eat cookies with real sugar and real butter and go barefoot and duke it out with my sibs as long as there was no arterial spurting."
Mothering just isn't as hard as the experts have made it. It's only hard in the ways it's always been hard--traumas and tragedies and heartbreaks happen and you can't prevent them no matter how many experts are weighing down your bookshelves. But those things aren't your fault. And they'll be easier to get through more or less intact if you put your fingers in your ears and follow your heart.
Don't let all those smart people take the fun out of the hardest job in the world. Just aim at being "a Credible Hulk" and take the rest of it with a grain of salt (not sodium substitute).
