Lessons about Reality from the World of Make Believe

My two year old, Laura, is very into make believe.  It all started just before Christmas time last winter.  She quickly identified the main character of any story as herself, and assigned my husband and I supporting roles.  When Ellie was born earlier this summer, Laura began incorporating her into most of these play games by making her a pet.  Poor little puppy!

So these days, Laura is Karen from Frosty the Snowman, I am Frosty, and my husband, Ted,  plays Santa.  She is Annie from Little Einstiens, I’m Leo (after all I drive our rocket & wear glasses) and my husband is Quincy.  Random friends and grandparents rotate in and out as June, the fourth member of the gang. She is Bob the Tomato and I am the taller, sillier Larry.  Somehow Ted ended up as Mr. Lunt, the squinty eyed gourd with a Mexican accent.   She is Cinderella, I am Sleeping Beauty, and Ted is our (shared) prince. She is Spot, I am Sally, and Ted is Spot’s Daddy.  There is no scenario she cannot adapt.

When she was younger, she would slip in and out of character.  But now, in her mature almost three land of imagination, she announces with pomp & circumstance when she is donning a new role.  Recently, when she is finished playing, and wants to return to just being herself, she says so by telling us: “Now I just want to be my Momma’s child.”

I was struck today, when she said this to my mother-in-law, that she is summing up her identity in this statement.  She sees herself first and foremost as belonging to me, being my child. She knows who I am, and she finds her own identity in relationship to that understanding.  What a beautiful picture.  It’s so easy to see myself as wife, mother, teacher, artist, diaper changer. But my true identity lies in knowing the One who loves me, the One I’m at home with, and knowing I am His.  Sigh.