While I have yet to master the physical tasks of my job as a parent, I was ready to embark on the spiritual ones. Yes, I was ready to introduce meaning-of-life lessons into my parenting in a concerted, explicit way, which means I plopped them right into the bedtime routine.
I started at the beginning: The Bible The Wizard of Oz. Sadie and Simon are both enthralled with the story, which they know only from my fractured telling. “This young girl in a pretty gingham pinafore gets lost in a storm– no one was hurt– and she wanted to get back to her pig farm…” My bright idea was to talk about it as a spiritual journey. (You’re wondering if I have a Harvard divinity school degree right now aren’t you?– I don’t, but I watched a lot of Davey and Goliath claymation in the 70s.)

Spiritual questers. (image credit: http://www.reversespins.com/wizardofoz.html)
So, I told my kids about the spiritual quest for home (Dorothy), intellectual satisfaction (Scarecrow), courage (lion) and heart (Tin Man). I tell them about Oz and his suspect ability to grant wishes that were really satisfied through the questioner’s journey. When I’m really channeling my inner preacher, I tell them what they seek may be inside them all along. Hallelujah! Can I get an ‘amen’?
I skipped the parts about the mean witch, the flying monkeys (because OMGODTHEYARESOSCARY), and that psychedelic field of poppies (because we are a drug-free household.) Once Sadie had a grasp of the plot, I started asking her deeper questions to understand what kind of longings a four-year old has.
My biggest fear was that she would only be able to express longings for plastic consumer goods that come emblazoned with her favorite “characters.” I was so scared to get that answer that I waited a week before I asked her anything direct about her wishes. The question was a test: where did the child I am raising fall on the Tori Spelling — Deepak Chopra continuum? (Which is another way of saying is she more like me or her hard-working, anti-materialistic father?)
You can imagine why I might be scared to walk down this road.
The night had come. She was splayed out on the bed, clutching her non-name-brand stuffed giraffe and asking me about Dorothy’s red shoes, a detail she seized on during the first telling. Her closet light was on and the doors were open so it was bright as high noon in Tuscan. After describing the incredible adhesive glitter on Dorothy’s red shoes, I was ready to ask Sadie the question that was the culmination of my lesson plan on The Wizard of Oz.
“Sadie, if you could ask the Wizard for one thing what would it be?”
In the silence, we both stared at the ceiling, our heads resting on the same pillow. I could hear the soft ticking of her Disney Princess clock, and I worried it would distract her and make her think of princesses. I wanted her to wish for everyone to have enough to eat or for her teacher’s new baby. I really wanted it to be something with soul and something that can’t be bought at Target.
She was thinking so hard I saw her giraffe’s head buckle from her squeezing. Just when I thought she was going to blow me off altogether– which would be better than hearing she wished for a fucking Barbie dream house– she sat up and looked down at my face.
“I’d wish for breasts.”
Of course.
Of course a four-year-old little girl wants breasts. Now, I can’t decide if that’s the worst thing she could have said or if it is an expression of a deep desire to mother (and be like her own amply-breasted mother), so it’s adorable and innocent. With that answer, she took my little Tori-Deepak continuum, threw it against the mantle then went out into the garage with a circle saw and make a new continuum: Dolly Parton or that little girl from Are You There, God, It’s Me, Margaret?
I’m not sure what her answer means. But, since you can’t buy breasts at Target (yet), I guess I got what I wished for. The spiritual lesson plans on are hiatus until further notice.
You are so, so good. Loved meeting you this weekend!!!
You!!! So happy to hear from you! You were a highlight of the weekend. Let’s WRITE!
On Mon, Jul 29, 2013 at 11:38 AM, Outlaw Mama
Ha! That is awesome. Is it weird that I prefer Sadie’s revised ‘Dolly Parton —- Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret’ continuum and am glad she redirected? 🙂
I think it’s proof of her resilience that she can overcome the shit I’m trying to put on top of her and redirect. She’s the boss.
On Mon, Jul 29, 2013 at 11:42 AM, Outlaw Mama
oh I die: “…and that psychedelic field of poppies (because we are a drug-free household.)”
😉 Poppies are strong shit. I’ve heard.
On Mon, Jul 29, 2013 at 12:32 PM, Outlaw Mama
Oh, Sadie… Soon enough, lil’ lady. I have no idea what my kids would wish for — I’d ask, but I’m afraid to hear the answer…
I won’t ask again for a while.
Your kid cracks me up.
Right? Oy.
I nearly choked on my melon resfing that!! Lmao!!
Oh wait….no….I mean I’m EATING actual honeydew while reading….*sigh* 😉 x
You just made me spit my peach out laughing at your comment. By peach, I mean chocolate Luna bar.
1. I LOVED all the Davey and Goliath episodes. Loved. 2. Tell Sadie I, too, at 42 am hoping the Wizard grants me some boobs someday. C cup is all I’m asking for. Is that too much? 3. I am looking forward to quizzing my daughters to see where they fall on the Tori-Dolly-Deepak spectrum. (That’s brilliant, BTW.) 4. Best post ever.
Davey and Goliath!!!! The memories. Report back.
I would just like to reiterate this comment in its entirety. Thank you for your brilliance as always TGB!
Someday I want to have coffee with Carinn and TGB and then I will die a happy woman.
Sounds like a date. Let’s do it!! And thank you, Carinn, for your kind words.
Oh dear! Haha!
I’m cooked with this one!
My four-year old daughter wants breasts, too. What’s up with that? It makes for awesome, and by awesome I mean mortifying, conversations when she watches me get dressed after I shower.
Same here. Is this because of the princesses?
I asked her why she wants breasts (’cause I never learn) and she said, “because they look pretty”. I blame Target. She’s been grabbing the “poofs” for years as we make our way past them to the baby accessories section.
I blame target too. They screw with my budget and my self esteem.
Bonus points for anatomically correct naming of body parts?
For sure. We are still in the red though.
well, it’s better than saying penis..
Definitely less complicated. Great point.
Yeah, we had to have the “Yes, it is called a penis but some people, like Grandpa, find that embarrassing” conversation before Grandma and Grandpa came over one day.
Sadie and I are on the same page with that request! And Davey & Goliath? The best. I miss claymation.
I actually think claymation is one of the scariest things on earth. And I loved it.
I almost spit out my dessert reading that. I do think it’s the latter – the wish to be like Mom. In any case, it’s hysterical.
I was aghast. And now it’s hysterical.
All girls want breasts! Anna’s watching hers (not) grow every day and reporting back. And you’re right. They can’t buy them at Target, so we win!
Score!!
So funny! Of course she wants breasts. Oy! And now that Jockey gave you that boob set, Sadie can learn that wishes do come true. Truly a miracle!
We colored all the boob shells and called them turtles. Good times.
Lol! Great use for them! I haven’t gotten a reply from jockey about whether they’re recyclable or compostable.
Clearly the answer is paintable.
Those things are all over my house.
I wasn’t about to lug them on the plane.
Hilarious. My daughter has never once expressed a desire to have breasts. It just dawned on me that it’s probably because she doesn’t realize I have them. Small boobs for the win! Or not.
I’d say win!
Best answer ever. Because, “good news…when you’re 13 or 14 you will get them. Science is better than little guys behind curtains.”
Boom. You nailed it here.