cultural mythology

my son turned 5 today (January 18th). this is a big deal to me, for a number of reasons. first of all, he's not so much a baby anymore. he's starting to read, he can take care of himself in the potty, he can brush his own teeth. he made his first contextual joke the other day - he and his mother were playing Wii tennis, and he was down "love"-30 in the game. when the Wii console announced the score, he responded "love-30, mommy - they're loving you, but not me." i thought it was hilarious.


it reminds me of when i myself was five. my family had moved from southern Maryland, where i was born, to Westchester County, New York - near the Connecticut border, maybe a 45-minute drive to NYC. i met my first contemporaries there, i started school there, and nearly all of my memories of childhood begin there. i have very little recall of times before that. i guess i'm projecting somewhat that this is what Lucas is going through - the beginning of cognizance.

i got my first bike when i was five - Lucas has been riding his since he turned three, and never with training wheels. i got my first computer - remember the Commodore 64? - when i was 13 or 14. Lucas doesn't own a computer of his own, but he can use a Mac or a PC with equal ease - can fire it up & get online to the Nick Jr site using bookmarks, and use either a mouse or a touchpad with equal dexterity. he has mastered the universal remote. he also likes to be outside, loves to go on a hike or hit the BMX track on a summer afternoon. he can ride a motorcycle since his 4th birthday. he is a product of his parents' interests, but not exclusively. i am committed to supporting him on whatever path he takes in life. if he wants to be an extreme athlete or a ballerino - i don't care, so long as he does his best at whatever things he chooses to pursue.

he started gymnastics class last week, as part of his fifth birthday present from me. he wants to backflip his motorcycle (!), and at some point during the year i told him he should take a gymnastics class if he really wanted to learn how to backflip. i took gymnastics for a year or two when i was a little older than Lucas, and my sister kept at it until she was fourteen or fifteen, anyway. he so far enjoys it, and he seems to be taking the direction of his instructor there better than he ever does from me. i guess part of being five is not needing any help from mommy or daddy.

so as his cognizance is developing, my goal is to promote his self-reliance and free thinking. i am really trying to avoid simply passing along much of our cultural mythology by rote. i guess the major exception at this point is Santa Claus. it's just too much fun to see the joy and wonder of my young child upon finding the great big pile of gifts under the Christmas tree. also, at some level, i don't want to be the heretic spoiling the myths of other parents. you can be assured, however, that there will be no Easter Bunny visiting our household, and i will make it very plain that the yearly resurrection of all things green and the renewal of the Earth's yearly life cycle cannot be cheapened by a cartoon character.

Lucas recently picked up the phrase, "oh my God," from somewhere - probably me or Laura, if i get real honest. but we've taken to correcting him out of some sense of politeness, since i guess some of our neighbors would find it offensive that our five-year-old is allowed to run around taking the name of the Lord in vain...anyway, last night he said "oh my God," about something, to which his mother & i both responded, "oh my gosh, OK? try to avoid saying 'oh my God.'"
"why?"
"well," i replied, "it's really just good manners - some people get uncomfortable talking about God, and hearing the word God tossed around. and we want to be respectful of people who feel that way."
"oh. what is God?"
(here we go...) "God is something we're all a part of, and God is inside of all of us, and everything in the whole Universe."
"inside me? and you?"
"that's right. and it's one of those things that's kind of hard to explain, especially since you're just five. maybe we should talk about God a little more when you're six."
...at which point he sorta nodded and went back to watching TV. i seem to have bought a little time on that one. it's not that i'm afraid of talking about God to my child, and i think the idea of a diety is something that every child ought to be exposed to. in my own childhood i was taught the dogma of Judeo-Christianity, which i wasn't allowed to really question or examine until much later in life - i was expected to buy it whole hog, and take the proffered answers to unanswerable questions on faith alone. and if i couldn't find that faith, then i was judged to be lacking in piety. this left me in the untenable position of being expected to profess faith in something that nobody could explain. "after all, that's why it's called faith." was the most-oft-heard lame explanation.

ever since he began asking, i have attempted to give Lucas the most logical, straightforward answers to his questions. while i was told about God bowling up in Heaven being the source of that thunder, Lucas has always (and repeatedly) been told that it is the sound of the air slamming back together after the lighting strikes, and that the lightning is like when he touches the TV when it's on, or when he pets the cat, only much, much bigger. when he asks where electricity comes from, i always (and repeatedly) tell the story of the water behind the dam or the smokestacks on the way to the airport making the generators turn, which make big electricity that gets sent to the substation like the one by the Walmart, etc...all the way to the outlets at our house.

i really want him to seek out the answers for the questions he has, on his own, forming his own judgments and opinions rather than parroting those he interprets from our cultural mythology. at the same time, when he started to get really upset because he couldn't fathom how Santa Claus could possibly get down the chimney and through our woodstove if i kept the fire going, i had to come out with it;
"Santa Claus is magic. it doesn't matter if there's a fire, he puts his finger up next to his nose and winks - and poof! he's down the chimney with your presents." God help me stick to my guns.