Joanne Gallacher
By Joanne Gallacher

Imaginary friends, does not having one mean I have no imagination?

Imaginary friends in children

Just lately I’ve been getting rather concerned that neither my boys or myself have ever had an imaginary friend - And I wonder… does it mean we lack imagination? (Ponders worryingly...)

A quick Google search and I now feel the pressure of failing as a parent (yet again, how refreshing!) as they supposedly help with confidence, verbal skills and role-play. Great!

Imaginary friends

I think some of the reasons for creating these friends have not applied to my boys, so they have yet to find the need for one.  Some children like someone to boss about, but they seem quite happy to use me for that purpose.

If I visualise really hard I could create a Super Nanny figure for myself, to guide me through the parenting day.  For those blank moments when I just run out of ideas on how to approach a situation, like when my youngest was face down on the pavement having the meltdown of all meltdowns.

My imaginary friend would whip out a reward chart, some colourful stickers and a list of rules and just know what to do… Or would they?

In my fairytale life, the boys would have Augustus and Bernadette as their imaginary friends and they’d have impeccable table manners, no backchat and good social graces (no nose picking, hair pulling, hitting action!).  They would serve as great role models for them and inspire them to be model citizens. I wish!

If I had been more calculating I should have tried to get the boys to believe we had two imaginary cats, rather than getting the two we do have, that would have saved a fortune on vet bills and food.

On reflection, perhaps life would become dull and boring if life was too serene. You’d also become very judge mental about how everybody else parents their children, knowing that the best way is your way - how horrid!

Plus, I might actually start to miss their rowdy behaviour or our smelly cats.  And knowing my luck if they did finally imagine a friend they would be even more feral than themselves… a Tasmanian devil of a child, running around in a whirl of hyper charged activity!!!

Of course we all have our moments of grace and poise, but I’m sure even the Queen has had an unruly child at some point. The benefit to being the Queen though is that you can just send them to the tower. Ha ha - I think the modern day version is probably the naughty step or the corner of the room. Ha ha…

This post was written by guest blogger Karen Langridge, proud mummy of two little boys, hopeless cook and lover of cake she also loves sharing her mummy experiences with others.

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