My Past Returns to Haunt Me

I know that I was once a very imaginative child. I know that I had imaginary friends, even imaginary puppies (named Copper and Penny) to keep me company as I was growing up. My children seem to have inherited the vivid imagination. John had Tinky and his brother Bonko, and an entire family of their relatives. (He made a family tree showing them all once.) Joshua has an Aunty Rita from China who he visits sometimes, and who gets sick and has her own birthday. I could deal with those just fine. I'd listen to my children tell me stories about their friends and discuss them amongst themselves and they never bothered me too much. Now Peter's stuffed animals have suddenly become very opinionated entities. Recently he's been telling me, "Chippy (the Chipmunk) doesn't want me to have that spoon." "Chippy and Penguino don't like that blanket." "You left Penguino in there in the dark. He's crying!" I'm wondering if this is a psychological thing. Does he not feel comfortable expressing his own opinions so he has to use his animals as scapegoats? Or is he so desperate for a friend and too logically minded for a completely invisible friend so his stuffed animals are his friends? He wants to take them with us every time we leave the house, and insists on buckling them into seat belts. Often when we go grocery shopping he'll sit in the front seat of a double seated cart at Sam's Club and want some item of grocery to sit next to him, buckled in, and he'll call it his "best friend". Does the child need more play dates? Come to think of it, he probably does since all his siblings are in school full day now and I'm such a homebody and computer vegetable.  Poor boy.

Be Quiet Mom! They're sleeping!