;)
Voices inside my head.. Echoes of things that you said....Jump jump jump
Over the past year or two, my now 9 1/2 year old daughter has played this imaginary game with herself and sometimes with her brother. At some point a while back, she created a planet in her head that she revisits from time to time to develop, tweak, and add on to. She is continually building upon her original idea - adding new rules, new inventions and ways to make it the most perfectly easy and spectacular place that a 9 1/2 year old girl can imagine.
Interestingly, she tends to come up with improvements and add-ons in times of frustration or even turmoil. Sometimes it is driven by something minor - "On my planet, we never have to wait in the queue"; "On my planet, every airport has air conditioning and everyone goes first class". Sometimes she comes up with larger, more telling ideas, "On my planet, every child gets to go to school where they want and their best friend is always in their class".
Sometimes I play along - in an effort to keep the creative juices flowing of course. "On my planet, we never have to stop for fuel". (Me: "Oh yeah? Well what do the cars run on?). "Sugar". (Me: "Good.. one less thing to rot your teeth.") which is of course then met with "On my planet, no one has to see the dentist and everyone has perfect teeth". Uh huh. Of course they do.
Sometimes, in a weak moment of total mommy exhaustion, I feel her stories are completely and entirely directed at me in some thus-far-undiscovered-form-of-tween-meets-twixter-passive-aggressive-disorder..
"On my planet, children can live wherever they want and can decide what jobs their parents have."
"On my planet, I can dye my hair and have a cell phone and I don't have to wait until I'm 13."
This is usually the moment I am rubbing my temples, taking a huge deep breath and returning with a kill-her-with-kindness "Awesome sweetie. Sounds great".
Let's face it. Children are selfish beings. They have no filter whatsoever. It is entirely normal for them to wish aloud for more choices and more power, especially in a powerless situation. There have been times over the past month - perhaps the hardest month we have faced since we began this assignment - that I thought I would ban the interplanetary and imaginary assault on our life choices because, like me, my daughter can go on for - everrrrrr. And does. She can go on and on and on. And On. And mostly at the most inopportune times - in passport lines, in traffic, during emergency runs to the toilet, in the last leg of a multi-leg journey where you are literally hanging by a thread - "On my planet you don't have to search for an ATM at 2 in the morning just because your mother doesn't have any Turkish Lira to get a taxi." At one point of our nomadic Ebola-fueled trip across the continent, I heard the children bickering only to discover that Kerrigan had informed Clayton that he was not allowed to visit her planet - because, of course, "On my planet, little brothers are banned." Tears ensued. And let me tell you, my son was not the one crying.
Amazingly, over the past few weeks, I have heard my daughter's stream-of-conscious ramblings echoed in my own thoughts. They sneak in without warning and like her, only when I am faced with a particularly frustrating or unpleasant situation.
"On my planet, there are no ants in my toothpaste."
"On my planet, the money doesn't smell like fish."
"On my planet, I can drive and there is no traffic and I don't have to see people urinate in the street."
"On my planet, raspberries are free and carried to my door by unicorns - who also happen to have cured malaria."
"On my planet, the government doesn't shut down its schools leaving its guests stranded in a nation they don't understand and no longer feel welcome to visit".
It's eerie how often I find myself taking part in her little game lately (it is also possibly a sign of mental illness). But I have to admit, there is some small feeling of relief that comes over you when making such an affirmative statement - even one that is said in jest or in the vein of the fantastic. A bit of escapism perhaps, but one that provides consolation nonetheless. Wishing it doesn't make it true, but it does somehow ease the pain of the reality.
I'm sure a wiser person would remind me that we can all learn something from children and the way they cope with change and challenges. All I know is the planet I am now creating in my head is a place where I run the show - every day, all the time, and on my terms.
"On my planet, there is no such thing as ebola or edline or thermo scans. Or the Lagos Airport."