Pure Imagination

About two weeks ago, the circus arrived at our house. They pulled up into the driveway with their big trucks cars and started unloading a great, big, exciting cast of characters. Finny, it seems, is the headmaster and he puts on what is, well, in his mother’s eyes, the greatest show on earth. And as luck would have it, I have a front row seat for all live performances.

I have been waiting for Finny’s one-man show to arrive for quite some time now. I remember wanting it especially badly back in January, February and March, when Charlie had just arrived and Finny would not go anywhere without me, could not even stand for me to not be holding him at all times, especially when Charlie was crying or nursing. I wondered when the time would come when Finny could entertain himself.

Well, it’s arrived and it’s even better than I’d imagined because not only does Finny now entertain himself, he entertains all of us, and we’re captivated.

The benefits of Finny’s imagination abound, but one of the greatest is the fact that it cannot get lost under the passenger seat. Neither Finny nor I are particularly adept at keeping track of his toys. Each day he seems to be fixated on something new. From a bathtub rubber ducky to a purple tea cup he pilfered from his cousin Jane’s collection, it is hard to keep track of all of the little toys and gadgets he grows attached to. Since he was a baby, Finny has had a habit of always needing to have something in each hand, or sometimes a thing in each hand and additional items tucked under each armpit. He’s actually something of a hoarder, a quirk I’m sure some therapist could dissect for us. He is constantly climbing the stairs with his elbows because he will not let go of his collections, and he is fond of saying, “I have too many hands!” when he is asked to pick up his juice cup but cannot for the life of him figure out how to do it with a superhero in one hand, a zebra in the other and a wooden chicken leg tucked under his chin. These things are constantly getting traded out for other magnificent finds because as he puts it, “He has too many hands!” to hold them all, and as a result, we end up searching for Mega Man at 7:45 p.m. because he’s “somewhere” and Finny has decided he cannot go to sleep without him.

But the imagination, well that’s a different story. It follows him wherever he goes and makes its way into all sorts of different places. While driving home from Stroller Strong class the other day, it showed up in the backseat of the car. I noticed in a rare moment of peace that I was actually listening to something other than a Disney song without protest. When I turned around to see what was going on, there was Finny holding Thomas and Percy, re-enacting a dramatic rescue scene. “Thomas! Help me!” cried Percy as he plunged over the edge of the car seat. “Hold on, Percy! I’ll save you!” Thomas replied as he dragged his old friend back to safey on Finny’s lap.

A few mornings ago, as I was getting breakfast ready, I noticed that Finny was not clamoring for a show. He plopped himself down next to Charlie on his playmat and performed a little play with the lion and the cheetah which happened to be laying beside a “lake” on the playmat.

“Lion, would you like to come swimming with me?” posed Cheetah.

“No, dear. I forgot my slippers.” The obvious response.

I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep from bursting out laughing, not wanting to interrupt and desperately wanting to see what would happen next.

Most often The Finny Show seems to come out at mealtime, a sort of dinner theater. I know I should discourage him from playing with his food, but what about performing a play with his food? I just can’t help myself. When the crusts of bread form a tunnel and the purple grapes come alive as a family trying to get across, I don’t want to scold him for playing with his food; I want to see what’s going to happen to that poor, desperate grape family.

“Come on, Grandpa! You can make it! Mother, are you coming too? Hop on! Do you have your money? You need some money…” Where are they going? Why do they need money? And just what else is sitting up in that little brain of yours, Finny?

David and I have been telling Finny stories since he showed up, and now, finally, it’s his turn.

Rolling over, sitting up, walking, talking, potty training—all huge milestones, but this imagination business? Well, I think it’s safe to say, this is my new favorite.

I’ve got my popcorn ready. The big top is up. All that’s required is a quiet moment, an attentive ear, and a few idle breadcrusts and the show begins. The student becomes the master.

*A few people have asked, so...To subscribe to Musings on Motherhood via email or as an RSS feed, click on the links to the right above.  And feel free to share as a link on Facebook.