Magic Wand

A couple of nights ago, as I laid the Dancing Queen to sleep, I gave her a good dream as I always do to try to keep her happy at bed time and push the nightmares away.  That night's dream involved two of her favorite things--rainbow wands and being Elsa .  After she and I kissed the dream, filled it with love, and smooshed it into her head for safekeeping, she turned to me and said: "Mommy, I wish I had a magic wand that could give me powers like Elsa and make rainbows too!"

You can dream about having magic powers, honey, but I don't know how to make magic and I don't know anyone who can.

"The Chef can, Mommy!"

You think the Chef can make a magic wand?

"I know he can, Mommy!  He makes potions all of the time and magic wands are similar."

Well then, the next time you see the Chef, you'll have to ask him to make you a wand.

"Will you do it, Mommy?"

No, honey.  With something this  important, I really think you need to ask him yourself.

"Okay, Mommy.  I will ask the Chef to make a rainbow wand that makes ice and snow and rainbows."

You do that, sweety.  Good night.  I love you and will see you in the morning.

I totally thought that she would forget about the wand by morning.  She comes up with ideas like this all of the time and forgets about them fairly quickly.  However, the magic wand idea did not fade.  Rather, it grew.

As of last night, the Dancing Queen's wand that will be made by the Chef had grown in power.  She was certain it would turn her brother into Om Nom from Cut the Rope.  She thought that was hilarious.  The wand was going to take her places and get her ice cream and houses made of candy.  She couldn't wait to see the Chef again to ask him.

As the extravagance in wishing grew, I reminded her that magic is not real and that the Chef may not be able to make her a wand.  She was not deterred: "Don't worry, Mommy.  I know the Chef can do it."

This morning, DQ found her own non-magical rainbow wand left over from her rainbow birthday party.  So as not to tax the Chef too much, she decided she could use that wand and all the Chef would have to do is create magic dust for it.  When I asked how she knew the Chef could make magic dust, she quickly responded: "Mommy, he makes potions all of the time.  What do you think magic dust is!" How could I argue with that logic?

At breakfast though, the magic wand became ever more important.  The Dancing Queen was in pain again.  She could not eat because the pain was too great (this is a very common occurrence--we're lucky if we can get her to consumer 40 calories at breakfast).  As DQ laid her head on the kitchen table, she stated matter-of-factly that the first thing she will wish for when the Chef makes her magic dust for her wand is no more tummy aches.  TRex quickly jumped in and said he was going to wish for DQ's heart to no longer be broken.  The children were so sincere and wanted this so much.  We had moved beyond rainbows, houses made of candy, and video games.

I wish you didn't have pain either DQ.  I wish your heart wasn't broken.  But you have to understand that the  Chef is probably not going to be able to make you magic dust.  And even if he does, the dust may not help  your belly or your heart.

"No, Mommy.  The Chef can do it! I know he can!"

Please promise me DQ that you won't get angry with the Chef if he can't make you the magic dust that you want.  I have no doubt he will try, but some things are very hard to do, even for the Chef.

"Mommy, the Chef CAN make me magic dust, but if it doesn't work the way I want it, I won't get angry."

Thank you, DQ.  Thank you.