Embracing the Magic of Childhood – Part 2

Creating magical childhood memories for your children doesn’t need to be complicated. Magical moments can happen at any time – and more often than not, they tend to happen when you least expect them – on a muddy walk, a quiet cuddle before bed or silly moments of play. And the magic happens when we choose to immerse ourselves in what’s going on. Here’s our story.

This story is part of our making memories series.

If you missed it read – Embracing the Magic of Childhood Part 1

The Magic of Parenthood

Mummy (9 years parenting)

I’ve never understood the magic of time. How the seconds, minutes, hours seem to take on a life of their own. How they do not stick to their allotted amount of time, but fluctuate according to what is the most irritating. On the days I have a mountain of cleaning or washing, the hours that the boys are in school turns into minutes. Yet holidays are over in mere seconds. While the weekly shop can last weeks (especially if the children come).

And these 5 minutes have lasted approximately 8 years, 7 months, 41 days, 3 hours, 24 minutes and 59 seconds. Give or take!

“Mummy Is it Time?” Luc asks (I’ll let you add in the appropriate amount of frustration and whining that only a 7-year-old can really master).

I glance around in the hope that maybe there will be some sign that the show is starting. I notice a woman a few rows ahead of us in the theatre scrolling through her phone looking at holidays. Sunny, relaxing, no-children-allowed holidays. I could get my phone out – check my messages, write down some thoughts, look at holidays that I’m never going to book. Disappear for just a moment.

Being in the Moment...

“Soon.” I turn back to him, making the choice to be engaged even though I feel weary from all the questions.

It finally starts and a wonderful hush descends.

They want a grown-up volunteer. NOT A CHANCE. Tomos is trying to grab my hand to raise it, but I clutch the chair hard and give him a death glare. Don’t You Dare.

Phew! They picked someone else. Poor man.

This show is using a mix of science and magic to entertain and educate us. They are going to swing a bowling ball on a pendulum and apparently due to some law about forces the ball isn’t going to smack into his face. He looks worried. I am so glad they didn’t pick me. They keep telling him not to move and the ball swings and it doesn’t reach his face – just. He jerked his head back a bit, but fair play to him – I would have dived off the seat.

Luc jumped a bit as well. He is bundle of excitement and nervous energy – totally engrossed in the magic of it all. It’s almost more fun watching him and Tomos as they lean forward in their chairs, totally spellbound as the magician/scientist manages to burn the poor volunteer’s shoe.

They give him a replacement slipper and I can’t help but wonder if the replacement slipper fits properly. Or whether his feet will be cold for the rest of the afternoon. It’s January and I’m wearing my warmest boots. And those slippers are open-toe.

Poor man. I’m so glad it’s not me.

I turn back to Luc and I can’t quite tell if he is horrified or delighted. He totally believes in the trick, the magic, the story. It’s actually more fun watching him than the show. (No reflection of the entertainment value of the show).

Many tricks and experiments later (which have passed in what feels like a blink of an eye) the magician/scientist tells us we are nearing the end of the show and Luc grabs my arm urgently. I was about to ask him if he needed the toilet when –

“Mummy! What about the shoe?”

And I smile because I know they won’t have really burnt the shoe. And I wonder how do I know that? When did I learn that there are too many rules in the grown-up world that they would never actually burn a shoe? When did I lose the magic of childhood?

And how often do we miss the magic of parenthood?

“Let’s watch together, I think maybe he’s about to tell us.”

They bring the volunteer back to the stage and Luc clutches my hand tightly. He’s almost holding his breath. The magician/scientist brings forward a box that we know has been locked since the start of the performance. Locked and always visible. He takes the box and opens it to reveal the original shoe.

We gasp and cheer.

And that’s when I felt it – a small moment of shared wonder. A magical moment. Both equal in our amazement, both baffled by the how…

And both full of relief that the volunteer got back his shoe.

Making Childhood Memories

If you are interested here is the actual magic/science show that we saw.