Cheetahs, and Dragons, and Angels, Oh My!
One of the things I love best about having kids, besides the unquestioning acceptance of whatever weirdness I feel like dishing out at any given moment, is that they remind me to be imaginative and see wonder everywhere. Sure, I dump water on some of the magic with facts and science-y explanations, but they always bring the wonder.
But then, when I consider the science from a child’s perspective, it reminds me that the cold hard facts are pretty miraculous too. Simple things like lightning, wind and how a cloud forms are fantastic and amazing again – they remind me to look and notice and marvel at something as simple as the sparkling dew on our windshield this morning.
And then there’s Quokka, who drives me to rediscover my creativity and reminds me that I was once a fantastical kid before adult responsibility sobered me up like a hard slap to the face. Some part of me let go of that wild, impractical imagination because it didn't serve a purpose. I spent more time on “real” things that I thought really mattered more.
And then, Quokka.
She has such an imagination and not a whole lot of care for what other people think. The first time she was a dragon in the grocery store and people were looking, I felt embarrassed and told her to stop. She was genuinely confused about why I would care. So we made a deal, she could be a dragon as long as it didn't involve shrieking, hanging on to the edges of shelves like a cliff ledge, or interfering with other shoppers as she swoops through the aisles. She’s stuck to the deal, and I've learned to care less about what random strangers think – it is, after all, not about me. I just raise my eyebrows and shrug when we get strange looks.
Age and time and other kids will teach her to tone it down – but I've vowed not to be part of the gang that tries to hammer this odd little nail flat.
Meanwhile, the kid challenges me to rediscover that creativity in myself – not only to appreciate her rich fantasy world, but also to help her live it at appropriate times. And Halloween is one of those times when she can really go all out.
It all started when she was seven and announced that she wanted to be a cheetah for Halloween. We try not to spend too much money on costumes, especially because there are three kids to outfit these days. So, after I realized she’d dug in on the cheetah idea, I went searching and came up with a combination of dyed clothes, fabric paint, face paint and a cheap set of ears and a tail from Target.
It was a hit.
Such a favorite, in fact, that she asked to be a dragon the next year when she was eight. Athena, six at the time, wanted in on the magic too (she deeply regretted it after 45 minutes of makeup and vowed never again).
Quokka, on the other hand, sat stock still during the transformation and loved every minute of the hours spent as a dragon. She stayed “in character” the whole time too – moving and acting like a dragon, swooping up to doors, and sinuously weaving from house to house. It was amazing.
Last year, at nine, she asked for a Weeping Angel costume (from the TV show Doctor Who). Again, we went as inexpensive as possible with cheap gray fabric, held together with seam tape and safety pins because sewing is not among my talents (and won’t ever be, frankly). Cardboard boxes became wings and the kid sat through 40 minutes of makeup and five coats of silver hair spray to complete the transformation. It was awesome and totally creepy.
It is a lot of work helping Quokka become her fantasy creature, but worth every minute of the planning, hunting for supplies, strategizing and pulling it off. She is incandescent with joy and really lives out the character for those few hours. There is no judgment from people who left imagination behind with their childhood wonder – she can revel in her fantasy while those same people “ooo,” and “ahhh,” and admire her creativity.
It’s only August, but she’s already mulling around what we’re going to do this year. It will be fun and challenging figuring out how we’re going to make it happen (and come in at our $20 limit). On the day of, I'll leave work early and we’ll figure out together how to transform her so that she can really BE whatever it is for that one magical day when imagination gets to have a wild celebration.
But then, when I consider the science from a child’s perspective, it reminds me that the cold hard facts are pretty miraculous too. Simple things like lightning, wind and how a cloud forms are fantastic and amazing again – they remind me to look and notice and marvel at something as simple as the sparkling dew on our windshield this morning.
And then there’s Quokka, who drives me to rediscover my creativity and reminds me that I was once a fantastical kid before adult responsibility sobered me up like a hard slap to the face. Some part of me let go of that wild, impractical imagination because it didn't serve a purpose. I spent more time on “real” things that I thought really mattered more.
And then, Quokka.
She has such an imagination and not a whole lot of care for what other people think. The first time she was a dragon in the grocery store and people were looking, I felt embarrassed and told her to stop. She was genuinely confused about why I would care. So we made a deal, she could be a dragon as long as it didn't involve shrieking, hanging on to the edges of shelves like a cliff ledge, or interfering with other shoppers as she swoops through the aisles. She’s stuck to the deal, and I've learned to care less about what random strangers think – it is, after all, not about me. I just raise my eyebrows and shrug when we get strange looks.
Age and time and other kids will teach her to tone it down – but I've vowed not to be part of the gang that tries to hammer this odd little nail flat.
Meanwhile, the kid challenges me to rediscover that creativity in myself – not only to appreciate her rich fantasy world, but also to help her live it at appropriate times. And Halloween is one of those times when she can really go all out.
It all started when she was seven and announced that she wanted to be a cheetah for Halloween. We try not to spend too much money on costumes, especially because there are three kids to outfit these days. So, after I realized she’d dug in on the cheetah idea, I went searching and came up with a combination of dyed clothes, fabric paint, face paint and a cheap set of ears and a tail from Target.
It was a hit.
Such a favorite, in fact, that she asked to be a dragon the next year when she was eight. Athena, six at the time, wanted in on the magic too (she deeply regretted it after 45 minutes of makeup and vowed never again).
Quokka, on the other hand, sat stock still during the transformation and loved every minute of the hours spent as a dragon. She stayed “in character” the whole time too – moving and acting like a dragon, swooping up to doors, and sinuously weaving from house to house. It was amazing.
Last year, at nine, she asked for a Weeping Angel costume (from the TV show Doctor Who). Again, we went as inexpensive as possible with cheap gray fabric, held together with seam tape and safety pins because sewing is not among my talents (and won’t ever be, frankly). Cardboard boxes became wings and the kid sat through 40 minutes of makeup and five coats of silver hair spray to complete the transformation. It was awesome and totally creepy.
 |
| The painting part is always nerve wracking |
 |
| Looked awesome though |
It is a lot of work helping Quokka become her fantasy creature, but worth every minute of the planning, hunting for supplies, strategizing and pulling it off. She is incandescent with joy and really lives out the character for those few hours. There is no judgment from people who left imagination behind with their childhood wonder – she can revel in her fantasy while those same people “ooo,” and “ahhh,” and admire her creativity.
It’s only August, but she’s already mulling around what we’re going to do this year. It will be fun and challenging figuring out how we’re going to make it happen (and come in at our $20 limit). On the day of, I'll leave work early and we’ll figure out together how to transform her so that she can really BE whatever it is for that one magical day when imagination gets to have a wild celebration.
