Toy Worry

Last week, we took Keira to see Toy Story 3. This was only her second trip ever to the movie theater, the first having been to see the previous two Buzzy and Woody installments, and I think we were all a little surprised at how serious and sentimental this one was at times. Take the tear-jerky Sarah McLachlan-accompanied scenes from the second movie and triple 'em, 'cause this time Andy's going off to college and is (sob!) too big to play with toys anymore.

Moms are notoriously suckers for themes involving the passage of time, children growing up, and other ovary-wrenching truths of life, and this was no exception: Keira sat in my lap and I totally cried into her hair for the last, oh, half hour of the movie. What I didn't expect, however, was how upset our little girl was by the whole idea of growing up, which apparently she'd never really thought about before.

At bedtime lately, she's been getting all emotional and saying things like:

"Mommy, when I'm a grown-up I have to be a grown-up forever...every day and every day!"

"I don't wanna grow up and be too big to play with toys anymore!"

"Are you still gonna love me when I'm a big girl?"

Picture all of these lines delivered through streams of little girl tears, as she buries her face in my chest and just sobs. Then picture my heart breaking.

Of course, I've replied with the obvious responses: describing all the awesome aspects of being a grown-up, reminding her that it's going to be a LONG time before she is one, pointing out that Uncle Johnny owns more toys that any kid I know and HE'S (technically) a grown-up, and assuring her that we've loved her since she was in my belly, and we'll love her even if she grows to be as big as a house.

I'm not sure she's buying it, though, because a night or two later, we have to have the same talk all over again...and as cute as it is, I hate seeing her so stressed out! It reminds me of when I was 8 and saw an episode of The Wonder Years where the kids' grandma died, and then spent the next I-don't-know-how-long crying about how I didn't want MY grandma to die. I still remember that feeling, and being on the other side of it and trying to comfort my own little girl isn't any easier...especially knowing that this is probably the first in a long series of very real worries and issues she's going to face as she--dare I say it?--grows up.

Solving "monster in the closet" type worries is easy: I know they don't exist, and all I have to do is prove that to her and she's comforted. Done. But time IS going to pass, things ARE going to change, and sometimes thinking about that weighs heavily on ME...so how can I "fix" that realization for her? I can't, really. All I can do is hold her, listen to her, try to point out the good things about growing older...

...and maybe cry a few more tears into her hair.