Parison, Oh, Parison

A bunch of Charlie's buddies have developed imaginary friends. Kolby has DoTo, a little girl who comes to his house to play and sometimes live. She emerged not too long after he switched preschools earlier this fall. Sophia has Rae and Karla, 2 little girls who have become an integral part of her life since her best friend moved to South Carolina in April. Most of the newer research says that 'imaginary companions' can indicate social and cognitive awareness in children. It's totally normal and often a sign of creativity and high intelligence. That's all great news except once again, Charlie, in sticking with his 'I'm not going to follow the crowd' mentality, has decided to put his own spin on things. He has an imaginary grandmother and her name is Parison - no, we don't know where the name came from.

Unlike your typical imaginary friend, she never comes to the house, in the car or to the park, he always speaks about her in the past tense. For example, while discussing our Thanksgiving menu, Charlie chimed in, "My grandmother, Parison who lives in Corte Madera, used to give me mashed potatoes on crackers. I like them alot." Great, are you going to have some mashed potatoes on Thursday? "No. I'm going to eat my food, not yours."

From what we can gather, Parison is younger than me (let's call it 25). She's a girl, but on occasion becomes a boy. She lives in Corte Madera at '1-2'; that's it, that's her address. And whenever he discusses her, he always starts out, "My grandmother Parison, who lives in Corte Madera..."
We ask him tons of questions like how he met her, "I met her at tumbling class." Can we meet her, "Yes, of course you can, but not now." When he saw her last, "When she picked me up in her car." We've even asked if Parison is Teri, our babysitter, "No, she's not."

It seems like a lot of kids create their imaginary friends so they have someone to talk to, to blame for wrong doings, or as a coping mechanism (anxiety, fear, loneliness, etc.). I'm not sure what role Parison fulfills for Charlie because she's never actually there; meaning he doesn't interact with her or have conversations. He always refers to her in the past by way of some action or experience. "My grandmother Parison, who lives in Corte Madera, always gives me M&M's after I poop in her potty." It's nice to know he's pooping in someone's potty, cuz it sure ain't happening in ours.

On a drive to Sausalito this past weekend, Charlie mentioned that we were near where Parison lived. Brian went along with it, I think there was a small part of him that actually thought he was going to meet the ever elusive grandmother.
Where should I turn if I want to go to Parison's house? "Turn here, up this hill." We drove up a long hill that dead ended into a cul-de-sac. "Oh, you must have taken a wrong turn, Daddy." Is it this hill here, Charlie? "Yes, up here, go way up, this is where Parison lives." We drive around and around and he's giving Brian very specific directions, "Turn here, go down by that car, now go up that hill." We finally start heading toward our old house where we lived till Charlie was 15 months old. He still loves to drive by and say, "That's where we used to live, in the pink house." As we turn the corner Charlie screams at the top of his lungs, "That's it, that's where Parison lives." Well, whatta you know, she lives in our old pink house.

When we ask Charlie how many grandmother's he has, the answer is always the same, "I have 3. There's Nani (Brian's mom), Papa (Brian's dad), Yia Yia (my Mom), and Parison." Yes, I know that's 4, but as the research indicates, my child is highly creative and clearly that's affecting his counting abilities. We'll continue to report on Parison and how she emerges as a force in Charlie's life. As long as I don't hear, "My grandmother Parison, who lives in Corte Madera, decided to off my mommy so she could be my mother instead of my grandmother." I'm fine coexisting with her.