Mommy Works A Little Magic

Recently the library was hosting a free magic show for kids, so the boys and I piled in the car and headed over.  We sat in the back (always handy with 3 young boys in case of the need for a quick exit) and settled in for the show.  It was packed - the room was full of kids and adults.  There must've been at least 100 people there.  The magician really worked the crowd, pumping the kids up and getting them all excited.

He had already pulled several kids from the audience as volunteers when he decided he needed an adult.  Now why exactly he decided to call on the unassuming, introverted adult with her hands most definitely in her lap, not raised, is beyond me.  I thought myself well-hidden in the back of the room.  Somehow, my plan failed and he called me up anyhow.  I'm a good sport, though, so I went up to the front of the room. 

Speaking in front of large groups of people is not my favorite thing on earth, but I can and will do so if called upon.  I was thankful not to have issues with public speaking or anything like that.  While the magician was building up suspense, and talking to the audience, I saw Pierce waving his hand madly, trying to speak, "UM....".  I kept catching his eye, giving him the finger to the lips hush sign, and shaking my head no.  Several times we went through this and finally the librarian, who we know well from story hour, went over and sat with him.  I know Pierce, and I realized what he needed to say so badly.  He wanted everyone to know it was his mom up there with the magician.  He could barely stand not being able to announce it.  But finally he calmed down to watch.

The magician had me put on a commercial for a bottle of Dad's root beer.  Now I am not a performer.  In fact, the year I took drama I was in one of the worst plays ever.  I stink at acting.  But I good-naturedly told the audience why they should drink Dad's root beer, in a matter of seconds. 

Then the magician wrapped the bottle in a piece of newspaper. He asked if I had a belly ache, to which I responded no.  He took the bottle, wrapped in newspaper, and pushed it through my stomach.  I watched it go in, but felt nothing.  Then he grabbed it from my back and pulled it out.  Fascinating!  I have no idea how he pulled this off, but I was impressed.

And so were my boys.  The whole way home, they jabbered on and on about how the magician put the bottle through mommy's tummy.  And I realized, suddenly, that they were proud of me.  Proud that it was their mom that got chosen to go up with the magician (after all, Pierce had wanted everyone to know) and excited that he'd used my stomach to put the root beer through.  I know that the future will hold days that the boys won't want to be around me, or that I will embarrass them.  So for that moment, for that day, I relished the idea that they were happy to call me their mom, and to let the world know about it.  Indeed, it was a day when I felt the joy of parenting magic.

This post linked with Pour Your Heart Out at Things I Can't Say.