For years now, I’ve told my kids I have a magic wand. I’m never able to pull it out while they’re around, but I’ve always managed to keep the magic alive with them as I talk about how cool it is. It helps me do things that I normally can’t do and it’s totally loaded with power. Hey, a mom’s gotta get her power from somewhere, right? I had to go the make-believe route. I don’t know when I started that little fib, but it was fun to see the little twinkle in their eyes when we talked about it.
One day my fib backfired and I wondered why in the world I I created it. Every time I’d ask my kids to help me with something, they’d say, “Just go get your magic wand and it will clean up the mess for you.”
Oh. So that’s how it’s going to be huh?
Nope, sorry, not gonna happen.
There came a day when I was a little grouchy and they were asking me lots of questions. The magic wand was brought up and I snapped. I killed the magic. In that moment, I found so much pleasure in spewing the truth that I don’t have a magic wand, that I never had a magic wand and I never will have a magic wand.
Oh, I crushed them. And I’m still trying to regain their trust from that dumb little fib because “moms aren’t supposed to lie.”
Anyway, point of the magic wand story is this…
There was a brief moment today when I wish I had that dumb magic wand.
It was 4:30, I needed to head to the store with all three hungry kids in tow. Two of them were in the car playing with the garage door opener, and in between the door going up and down, I heard screams. Toddler screams and 5-year-old boy screams. They must have been fighting over the door opener. My other daughter had just dumped out a box of Life cereal by accident. My husband wasn’t going to be home until late and in a few hours I was hosting my monthly women’s/mother’s group here at my house. I had no refreshments, no dinner planned, hair undone, homework and reading still needed to be done along with piano practicing and it all needed to happen quickly so the kids could be in a sleeping coma by the time my doorbell rang.
Why oh why can I not have a magic wand? I so desperately wanted to pull one out, wave it around while repeating…
“Abracadabra-alacazoo-please clean up this mess and bring food for us too.
Make these little eyes sleepy and not so weepy,
And have all my work done by the time this chant’s through…”
(Sigh.) No magic powers. Just a broom. The kind that cleans up Life cereal and the kind that I ride when the moon is full because no matter how often I tell my kids I’m not a witch, they choose to believe otherwise.
Read more from Mandy at mush.
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