As one stage fades, another emerges, and so it was with my daughter, Mia, who became captivated by Disney princesses. When she was about to turn three, I stumbled upon a flyer advertising a local production of Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. The beauty of introducing an almost 3-year-old to a musical for the first time lies in the delightful uncertainty of what will unfold.
The show began, and despite having missed her afternoon nap, Mia was utterly spellbound. The musical numbers were enchanting, but my primary focus was on her; I wanted to imprint her expressions of joy and wonder in my memory. As the townspeople sang, “Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour, bonjour, bonjour!” I caught the glimmer of amazement in her eyes. When the plates and forks danced around during “Be Our Guest,” her smile lit up the room.
Yet, when the wolves made their entrance amidst the almost pitch-black auditorium, I held my breath, fearing she might be terrified. The atmosphere was tense, and I could see the wolves’ glowing yellow eyes as they stalked across the stage. But to my surprise, a sound erupted from Mia that began as a shriek and transformed into peals of laughter—so loud that the audience around us joined in. “Those wolves were so funny, Mommy!” she exclaimed as we left. I chuckled and replied, “They were indeed, just like you!”
Back in the car, I presented her with a bag containing my childhood Belle and Beast dolls. She gleefully danced them over her lap and carried them into the house, igniting a full-blown Disney princess obsession in our home.
We soon accumulated princess-themed toothbrushes, pads of paper in every shade of pink and purple, and an endless supply of stickers plastered everywhere—on hands, cheeks, and even my couch. From T-shirts to socks, hair bows, and yes, even princess-themed underwear, it seemed like this phase would never end.
In moments of exasperation, I reminded myself of my own childhood phases. At around 11 or 12, I became infatuated with horror movies. My parents fully supported my fascination, taking me to The Movie Company every weekend. I’d save my babysitting money to buy horror magazines, which were filled with glossy photos and articles about my “leading men”—Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees, rather than the typical teen heartthrobs.
The climax of my horror obsession was a trip to see A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child with my dad. Soon after, I had sleepovers where I scared my friends with my Freddy doll, singing eerily in the dark. It’s a wonder I kept any friends during that time!
Kids go through a variety of phases, some more peculiar than others (like my horror obsession). Regardless of what my children dive into, I remind myself to support them wholeheartedly, just as my parents did for me. My eldest daughter wishes to wear black for months? Bring it on. My son wants to devote his Friday nights to Dungeons and Dragons? I’m all in. My youngest chooses to be a vegetarian at 12? Absolutely! And if these phases turn into lasting lifestyles, I’m ready to embrace those too.
As I reflect on my own quirky experiences, I realize that the love and support we show our children during these transitional phases are invaluable. If you’re exploring your own path to parenthood, consider checking out more about fertility options at this resource. Another great tool is this home intracervical insemination kit to assist you along the way. For additional information on pregnancy and home insemination, visit this excellent resource.
In summary, every phase our children go through is an opportunity for growth, love, and understanding. Embracing their interests, no matter how far-fetched they may seem, strengthens our bond and nurtures their individuality.