A magical childhood

My favourite childhood memory is lining snails up across the road from one side to the other. We would run to the edge of the road when a car was coming from either direction, hoping they would squash a snail on the way past. If the snails moved, we would move them back. When a sail met it’s terrible fate, we would kick it out of the way, go back to our bucket full of snails and give a new snail the empty space.

The snails came out when it rained and they were everywhere. Living in inland Western Australia meant that decent downpours were few and far between. In hindsight, I feel like this snail roulette was a cruel game to play. At the time, though, it was exciting because it meant that we had finally received some rain, glorious rain!
Although, rain was sometimes scarce, we would catch the tail end of hurricanes, which would flood our town. Mum and Dad would take us down to the flood waters when they startedto dry up, so we could go tadpoling.
Summers were spent at the local pool, though we would retreat inside and sit under the air conditioner when the weather was unbearable. We walked or rode our bikes everywhere. We picked our friends up on the way to school or they would pick us up. My first kiss was out the front of my boyfriend’s house. Our relationship lasted for 3 days--maybe less.

The same stretch of road that we used as a snail slaughtering ground was also used as a tennis court. Aunty Emily and I would whack the tennis ball back and forth with our next door neighbours, or each other, until a car came and forced us to pause our game. Across the road, there was a large area of bush. We spent time chasing emus on bikes, building bike ramps, blowing up deodorant cans, building forts and burying dead pets. We placed coins on the train track in the hope that they would get squashed. We also spent time yabbying, at the speedway or rollerblading on the back veranda.
We would go next door to play video games and listen to Eminem. We built a secret club in the neighbours’ shed, only allowing members to come inside.

We always found something to do, somewhere to adventure to, some new game to play.

It was a beautiful childhood, not perfect, but beautiful. I loved it. I could go on and on about the things I loved doing, where I loved going, the adventures we went on.

I think about you, about when you’re older, and I wonder what your favourite childhood memories will be. What memories will bring a smile to your face or a tear to your eye? I hope that, when you’re my age, you can look back and say that you had a beautiful childhood too. I worry though, I worry you won’t. Your siblings are so much younger than you, so you don’t have that close sibling/friend to fight with, learn with and play with. There aren’t any other children your age where we live, at least none within walking distance. I wish we lived on a larger block of land where you could run around and get up to mischief. A place where you could explore and sit outside on mild nights to look at the stars. I wish you had somewhere to build forts, get covered in leeches while walking though the bush, get dirty and hurt yourself.
I want you to have a magical childhood. Just like I had.

I love the magic of childhood, there is no other time like it and it disappears so quickly. One day it’s there, with barbies scattered on the floor around you and the next it’s gone.

When you first asked me if Santa was real, I felt like a bit of the magic had died. I tried so hard to keep it alive.
“Do you believe Santa is real?” I asked you.
It didn’t take long for you to respond. “Yes.”
“Well, Alexis, if you believe in Santa then he is real.”
“But, Mum,” you continued, “do you believe in Santa?”
The answer is no, I don’t believe in Santa. But I didn’t want you to know that, not yet.
“Alexis, I believe Santa exists because he creates magic in our lives, he exists so that we can all give and receive at Christmas time.”
The answer seemed to suffice. You rode away on your bike and continued to play. I breathed a long sigh of relief. I hoped that it would be enough for a few more years. It wasn’t. On boxing day, when I picked you up, I asked what Santa had brought you. “Nothing, Mum. You know that. Daddy gets my presents and so do you.”

Disappointment washed over me, despite the fact that you seemed fine. It didn’t last though. You told me recently that you wished you could still believe in Santa. You told me that you wished you didn’t know it was just grown-ups pretending.
I don’t know if you believe in the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny. Based on your responses, you seem to believe. You inspected the Easter Bunny’s flour footprints, commenting on the size of them and measuring your feet up against them. You jumped from one set of prints to the next, seeing if you could make the leap. You talked to your friends on Facetime later and told them all about the Easter Bunny--about the chocolate he left and the mess too. There was a light in your eyes as you raced around. A light that indicated to me that you believe, or that you enjoy the game of it at the very least.
I think you believe in the Tooth Fairy. One of my favourite memories is when you lost your tooth under the couch, thinking you had swallowed it. You sent the tooth fairy a text message and told her about it, she let you know that she would still fly over and drop off a coin. During lockdown, you messaged and asked her if we should leave the tooth in the letterbox as we were practicing social distancing. You were so excited to read the response and send a reply.

Children believe with such joy and purity of heart.
They don’t overthink everything and aren’t distracted by the comings and going’s of life.
Alexis, you never question where your next meal will come from or if you’ll go home to a loving environment; you just know it will happen. You believe that if you don’t brush your teeth, the tooth fairy won’t want them when they fall out. You don’t question if I’ll come in and say goodnight; you just know I will. You’re at an age where your toys come to life when you leave the room. You think the glow in the dark stars on your wall light up magically every single night. There is magic in the simplest things in life and I love that you remind me of that.
One day, you will ask me why I told you these things, why I told you the Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny and Santa were real. This is what I’ll tell you.

I will tell you, Alexis, about all the magic you experienced and the fun you had when you believed. I will tell you about how your eyes glowed and a smile spread across your face when you saw a coin with glitter around it, when Santa left a note or the Easter Bunny left footprints. The magic of those moments was magnificent and I didn’t want to rob you of those moments by just giving you the boring truth.
I will tell you that believing in the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny encourages you to believe in the impossible, to believe that your dreams can come true.
I will tell you that believing in Santa lets you see there is good in the world, even when so much of the world isn’t good.
I will tell you that Santa, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny teach children and adults that you can give without receiving and, perhaps more important, you can give without needing recognition.
I know a family who have created a magical creature just for their child. They placed a little door on top of a skirting board and told their son that a mouse gnome lives in there. The mouse gnome is one of Santa’s helpers. I just love that this child will look back and realise how much effort his parents have put into encouraging him to believe in the impossible. This is why parents do ‘Elf on the Shelf’ and advent calendars. They go to such great lengths at Christmas to bring joy and magic into their children’s lives, which brings so much joy and magic into their own lives.
I can’t give you the magic from my childhood, but I can give you the magic of your childhood. You bring magic to my life and I want to bring magic to yours. Sometimes, I let you have too much screen time and sometimes we don’t do anything exciting. I promise, though, that I will try hard to find ways to bring some sparkle and a little more magic into your existence. And if this means cleaning up after the Easter Bunny and the footprints he left all around the house, so be it.
If it means going kicking a soccer ball, even if I don’t enjoy it, so be it.
I will stop focusing on what we don’t have and focus on what we do have we will find magic in our little abode.
I will tell you about fairies in the rainforest, watching your mind open up to the possibility of magic everywhere.

Alexis, life is magic! There are lots of yucky bits, but it’s full of wonder and possibilities. For you to remember the magic as you grow, I will help you see it now.

I’ll be happy if you can look back at your childhood and remember the fun, the adventures and the magic—just like I do.