Tactical Error

I made one of those (admittedly minor) parenting blunders today that is making me feel like a total piece of poo.

Image courtesy Hollywood Stories

Sweetpea has been enthralled with Mary Poppins for the last two weeks. When I say enthralled, if you have children you know I mean that she has watched the film about eleventy hundred times since the first viewing. Like I did before her, she loves it. She knows most of the songs by heart already, affects a pretty darn good Cockney accent, and asked if we can get the books out of the library. As well as loving the film, I read every single one of the Mary Poppins books repeatedly when I was young. They completely captured my imagination and spurred my absolute belief that characters like Mary Poppins were REAL.

How could you not love a nanny who sang songs and created tea parties in mid-air and jumped with you into sidewalk chalk drawings where there were dancing penguins and then let you hang out with chimney sweeps on rooftops and breathe in carcinogenic charcoal dust?

Today Sweetpea watched all the extras on the DVD and was very interested in the process of how they made the film. She kept running to me with updates:

Mumma! When they went up in the air? To have their tea party? They were on ropes!
For real that's how they got up in the air!
Don't you think Mary Poppins has a beautiful voice
and Bert has his funny style?

So when she later came to chat while I was immersed in household chores, I didn't think twice when she asked if Mary Poppins was still alive. I said yes - since it's true that the inimitable Julie Andrews is indeed alive and well - and I reminded Sweetpea of the lady who was interviewed about when she played Mary Poppins.

Screeching of brakes.

Mary Poppins isn't real, Mumma? Bottom lip quivers, brow furrows, shiny tears well up.

Crap.

I start to mentally slap myself repeatedly in the face, wondering what other childhood dreams I can crush while we're at it. Santa? The tooth fairy? (she hasn't even lost a tooth yet). Gee, sorry honey, could I perhaps stomp on a defenseless puppy too and show you how heartless I really am?

She bounced back easily enough after I promised her chocolate milk with lunch (can we say guilt bribe?), although every once in a while a nonchalant question pops up

Is Mrs. Banks a lady in a costume?
Was the bird lady in a costume?
Do you think she was a younger lady dressed up or was she really old?

So I think I can breathe easy that I haven't traumatized her for life.

But how come no one prepares you for THIS kind of parenting? It's all breastfeed this, and discipline that, and do it this way or your baby will not thrive, blah blah blah. I would have liked a little more preparation for the kill your kid's dreams type of situation.