Driving home after an all-around blasé late afternoon, I find myself sneaking glances in the rearview mirror whenever possible. Behind me sits my three-year-old strapped in her car seat, her face morphing into what I can only call grade-B variations of preschool drama. First, a stern look to the right. Then, head pivoted to the left. At my next glance: her eyes are shifted upward with her mouth forced into a comical downturn frown. Next: a furrowed brow yet placid mouth. And on. Each gesture clearly not bringing on the desired result, affirmed by the eerie silence from my usual chatterbox.
There’s been a dark cloud lurking across her little face all day, just waiting for any storm clouds to gather. And now preceded with a soft “hick!” sound, a flurry releases in a warbled, “I never had a purpu Pretty Pony!” followed by “Ooooh-hoooo-hooooo” soft wails.
“A what?” I respond, “You’ve never owned a purple Pretty Pony toy? And so you’re going to start crying?” I can’t help but call her on this illogic, but for my daughter my questions only serve as odd affirmation of this apparent injustice, and launch her into louder wails.
Of all the things to cry about … then it hits me. Why not? Why not just let it out and wail for the lack of some random plastic horse with chroma-colored mane in your life? If that’s all you have to lament about, let loose!
And she does.
Starvation, deprivation, annihilation … it’s a wonder that daily crises don’t send us all into a tailspin. All day, we have the choice to tune into world events or tune out as best we can, all the while juggling life in a global economic crisis. Gloom and doom: how can it not seep under your skin, infesting your membranes with fear and worry. Day after day.
And yet we persevere as parents and continue to rally, until in my case, a random commercial that shows, say, a grandparent embracing their grandchild—and whoosh, my tear ducts overflow. If I’m truly lucky, I’ll get in some boo-hooing.
Yes, nothing tops a good cry.
Letting emotions out: how better to strengthen reserves so you can persevere during the true testaments to the psyche? And in a life of joy and sorrow, there will be many, many testaments.
Now have yourself a Pretty Pony Cry.