The Island of Sodor...

One of my old friends from Kansas City has two boys (forgive me if I don't know their exact ages -- I think five and seven, possibly six and eight?). Not too long ago, she posted on Facebook that she'd come to a sad day in the life of her (usually hilarious, always brilliant) boys -- the day she packed up the Island of Sodor and all the associated Thomas and friends trains. Looking into my future, I know that I will cry like a baby when that day comes.

I don't remember why I even thought that Grif, as a wee one-and-a-half-year-old, might enjoy a wooden train set. If I remember correctly (and if I'd kept up with his journal, I wouldn't be guessing, I could just check, sigh), we got him a basic figure-eight set and some extra cars for his 2nd birthday. Suffice it to say, miles of track and 50+ cars and blue-based paraphernalia later, he was a fan.

Thomas, oh how I love him. Most of his cars don't make noise, and the few that do don't get "played" all that often. Grif does all the work, imagination overload. The wooden track -- watching Grif progress from needing me or Jim to build it entirely for him to now he often can do it himself with only a little engineering assistance -- simply amazing. Brain building. And the way he knows ALL their names, how his favorites only rotate on a small basis, how just today, he gave Molly a kiss on her "bruise," I thank Rev. Awdry every day for bringing this locomotive magic to my child's world.

And the movies? At least the current ones -- good lessons, funny voices, guiltless (un-scary) entertainment for my little one. And I'm not above the being subject to the marketing or sales -- we went to see the "live" Thomas show last year (and those people put on a SHOW, I tell you). Grif loved it -- was utterly mesmerized by the song and dance on stage, and sat motionless, entirely still for the entire 90-minute performance, a feat I would have thought impossible for my ever-moving child. We visited Thomas the Train in person, too, rode on him and made general merriment with the life-size engine up in Lebanon. That was an amazing day. And despite the widespread influx of all things Thomas, I have to say, I'm a fan too.

But it's simply the expanding of his imagination and the developing of his brain that I see unfold every time we get the track out -- how he choo-choos, puff puffs, how he chooses how long each train line is, how he knows which cars go together and how he wants them to exactly appear. How he talks to them, about them, for them, as the hours upon hours while away.  Come on, Mommy, get your train. Go, go, go, GO!

You want to come play trains with me? Forever, honey, forever.