Remember how you used to watch your child leave for First Grade all by himself? You know the time. It was after the 23rd time that you walked him to school and finally released him like a little bird from the nest. You watched him walk down the sidewalk, growing smaller and smaller and smaller, until he was a tiny (tinier than he actually was) little speck in the distance. That watching was your Mommy Magic. It embraced your child and protected him from all kinds of danger, from cars, from strangers, from dogs, from mud slinging from the road, from any manner of harm. You didn’t close the front door until you gave that little speck an extra hard mesmerizing stare that would cover him for the day and bring him home.
I did it. Often. It was a ritual of mine that I just HAD to do. Later, when my oldest joined the Army, I realized I had the power to lift planes with my Mommy Magic. I would stare at that plane until it was a tiny little speck far, far off the horizon and I would not leave my post until I had used up all of my super vision.
I have the same power with words. Like saying, “Drive careful.” Every time my “boys” leave my house, I must say the magic words, “Drive careful.” And I, my power, will make it so. Or, when they were little and we were visiting anyone. My one word would ring out, “Behave.” And like magic, they sat still and didn’t play in dirt and didn’t sock each other in the eye.
Um, the last is actually a poor example. When they visit me and start acting like apes doing a comedy routine and I say, "Behave!", they just laugh at me.
I have discovered I still have the mind power going after 38 years. I blessed my son, moving to Arizona, with my sage advice: “Drive careful.” (Plus, pack your car with two blankets, sleeping bag, water, food to last four days in case you get stuck in the snow and can’t get out.) I watched him walk to his car, my vision boring into the back of his head, memorizing his body, and didn’t close the door until he was a little speck on the road, far, far away.
After two days and the obligatory “Drive careful”, he made it to his new apartment safe, sound, and in one piece.
So, my job is never done. :)