Being a parent means rediscovering your inner child. Often I look at my daughter and wonder what is going on in that mind of hers — the wheels as they turn and turn. A child’s imagination is something to envy. There is innocence in a child’s naïveté. Their curiosity is magical. Their cynicism is non-existent. The world is new – everyday. Every morning she wakes up. Every night she goes to bed. She needs not even dream a new dream. There will be newness as she yawns and rolls out of bed and tugs on her mom and dad’s bed cover, clamoring for pancakes.
Going into parenthood, your expectations, and one that is true but not wholly solid, is that becoming a parent translates into having to shed some of your childish ways and grow up because you are now the responsible party. If there are two stomachs growling for breakfast, you feed the little one first.
But there are two sides to that coin. The other side is remembering, on a certain level, what it feels like to think like a child. Continue reading