Optimism Is For Suckers

I wish I could be an optimist, but I just don’t think I have it in me.

With some things, sure, it’s no problem to be optimistic. I mean, do I think my daughter will grow up to be a well-adjusted, confident woman? Absolutely. Do I think she can overcome whatever gender barriers may still exist 20 years from now to have the career of her dreams? Totally.

It’s dealing with the everyday things that are challenging. Like when I’m sitting at a stop sign waiting for a car with its blinker on to turn before I pull out in front of it, I have no confidence whatsoever that that driver knows he has his blinker on. In fact, I’m almost certain that he’s an idiot who would continue past his turn and smash right into me if I optimistically trusted the blinker and went on my way. A lot of times I’m wrong. But I’d rather not take my chances and be right.

I wouldn’t say I’m a pessimist. More of a realist. I don’t see the glass as half-empty or half-full. I just wonder why you gave me such a tall glass for that amount of liquid. Nevertheless, I strive to be a role model that makes my daughter think that anything (good) is possible. The challenge is teaching optimism with a healthy dose of skepticism. She need not be afraid of everyone, but I don’t want her to trust everyone either. That’s a tough one to learn. And to teach.

Ironically I am most reminded of what can go wrong in life by the tamest of tame stories that I allow Lilly to enjoy in my attempts to protect her from the evils of life.

Her favorite show, Dinosaur Train, chronicles the happy days of a Pteranodon family that adopts a T Rex whose egg somehow came to be in their nest. It has a lovely moral: just because someone is different doesn’t mean that they can’t be family and a friend. But I can’t help thinking how this story is going to end. Sure the pteranodon kids and Buddy (the T Rex) get along great now, while Buddy’s still willing to eat fish and be carried around by his flying siblings. But what about when he’s a gigantic T Rex and gets a taste for real meat. And perhaps carnivores in the late Cretaceous time period are running out of chow as extinction grows nearer. Buddy may need something a little more substantial, like say a pteranodon to satisfy his hunger. What then?

And don’t get me started on The Tiger Who Came to Tea! First off, Mummy reasons that we must open the door to see who is there because I can’t think of anyone who would be ringing the bell at this hour. Sounds like a good reason NOT to open the door to me! And, honestly, who lets a tiger in for tea?? It doesn’t take much of a pessimist to imagine how this can go horribly wrong.

So far I’ve been taking the position that it’s best for Lilly to live in a happy bubble for now. But little by little real life is seeping in – with or without my help.

I let her watch Madagascar the other night. When Alex (the lion) became so hungry for meat that he began chasing his pal Marty (the zebra), who had taken the shape of a steak, something clicked in Lilly’s head. When I tried to give her chicken for dinner an hour later, she declined and asked the chicken’s name.

Makes me think Disney might be onto something. Maybe it’s best to scare the crap out of them early with witches, greedy villains and angry mobs, then take the edge off with a happy ending. It’s a realist lesson, for sure. But it just seems cruel to not let kids enjoy ignorant bliss for while. Life teaches you the bad stuff, like it or not. It’s the good stuff that’s harder to come by.

Yep, definitely not an optimist.

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