I'd rather be in Fantasyland

Do you ever feel like if you (or your child) take just one small step in the wrong direction, it will change the rest of your children's lives?

I know it sounds dramatic, but I feel that way.

My daughter is walking this thin line - the line between Fantasyland and Real Life (which I will now refer to as Meanieville.)

In Fantasyland people play magical games of pretend and believe in Santa Clause, The Easter Bunny, and The Tooth Fairy.  They are trusting to a fault - but that is okay, because no one lies.  They see through rose colored glasses, and are quite content in the fantasy of it all.  It's almost like your living in a Disney movie, where the biggest problem of the day is when will the princess get to dance with the prince again.

Meanieville is not so.  It is a dark, scary place, full of icky nasty stuff.  If one of those little people from Fantasyland were to wander over, they would be eaten alive and be used up for everything they have.  In Meanieville, the people of the land tell lies - big old stinking piles of lies.  Lies like "My sister is the model on the back of the portrait package sheet," and "At midnight all of the adults are going to turn into robots and try to eat us," and "I am a vampire, and I will eat you."  And the cute little people from Fantasyland believe it all as truth, naturally, because that is what just they do - they are gullible.  They are tortured by these lies and can't see them for what they are.

This is the line my daughter walks, and I don't know if she can keep it up.  She has already waltz into Meanieville a few times and it has not been pretty.  I would love her to keep a sense of wonder and mystery about the world, while still being able to tell the fact of life - that things aren't always pleasant.  I want her to still believe that when you blow on your birthday candles your wish may come true, but not believe that ghosts are haunting her school just because a friend says so.

Is it too much to ask?  What do I do to help her keep a lookout for those big stinky piles, but yet not become jaded?  Should a seven year old have to even worry about such things?  Or a mother of a seven year old?

Or do I just need to accept that this is life.  Accept that this is what happens when children grow up.  That they need to learn lessons like this first hand.

My hope is that she will learn that while Meanieville is alive and well, you can still visit Fantasyland - and visit it frequently.

Obviously I do.