All Aboard!
How a Day Out With Thomas helped me understand my son's obsession.
by Katherine Ozment
June 28, 2007
Our two-and-a-half-year-old son's Thomas the Tank Engine obsession was peaking right around the time we learned that a life-size, working Thomas train was coming to Massachusetts for the annual Day Out With Thomas extravaganza. For $20 a pop, we could ride an actual Thomas train, shake hands with Sir Topham Hatt and spend a day with all our "Isle of Sodor friends."
At the time, I didn't consider Thomas and his glib, backstabbing crew my friends. In fact, I couldn't stand them. Long before the lead paint recall, I considered those trains a menace. My son, William, however, was deeply attached. He couldn't stop talking about Thomas, Gordon, James and Henry. He tinkered at his train table incessantly. He begged for new trains to add to his ever-expanding collection, a request our well-meaning friends and family never refused. His preschool teachers once sent home a note My husband and I could pretend we'd never heard of Day Out With Thomas. Or, we could head straight into the melee.of thinly veiled concern: "William is really into Thomas. We were just curious about how much of it he watches on TV." Our house was so overrun with Thomas paraphernalia that I was starting to wonder if William was trying to replace us. In my darkest moments, I had to ask, "What is Thomas giving him that we're not?"
My husband and I faced a crucial decision: we could pretend we'd never heard of Day Out With Thomas, refuse even to speak of it and pray that William would snap out of his mania soon. (This is the strategy I employ regarding Disney World: "Don't ask, don't tell.") Or, we could head straight into the melee and hope to come out safely on the other side: the "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em" approach.
My husband, Michael, thought it was a no-brainer.
"What's the big deal?" he said as we lay in bed one night.
"The big deal is he's obsessed!" I said.
"He's passionate."
"Call it 'passion' if you want. I think it's early-onset OCD."
I realized I sounded nuts, but in the back of my mind lay a niggling fear that William was overly anxious and that his incessant train play was an attempt to soothe himself, a cover for something more serious.
©2007 Katherine Ozment and Nerve Media
About the Author
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Katherine Ozment is a freelance writer working on a collection of essays about motherhood. Her work has been published in The New York Times, National Geographic and Salon. |
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