Thomas the Tank Engine is coming to town.  Not too many years ago, that would have been a “must do."  When my two oldest boys were little, they lived and breathed Thomas.

First there was the ubiquitous figure 8 train track, and all of those trains. There was, of course, Thomas, that young train that tried to do well, but so often just missed the mark.  Many others completed the train family including Edward, Henry, Scarloey, Percy, Diesel and Lady.

My sons Jordan and Jesse could sit for hours rolling the trains around the track, making up stories in their heads.  And if they ever ran out of fodder for story lines, no worries—just turn to PBS and they could watch the Thomas series, “Shining Time Station.”  Comedian George Carlin played the mild mannered conductor, with nary any of the seven naughty words. My kids would sit in front of the TV, entranced by the slowly unfolding story.   

In addition to Thomas trains (we eventually switched to Brio train tracks instead of Thomas because frankly, that clickety clack of the grooved Thomas train track was getting on Mommy’s nerves, but we still bought the Thomas brand of trains), the boys had Thomas videos, books, pajamas and even undies.  It was indeed a Thomas world.

I do have to confess, however, that while I loved the way my kids loved Thomas, I found it, shall we say, a little mind numbing.  Countless afternoons it provided me with a little snooze time, even when I wasn’t planning on taking a nap.  

But when I think back on those days, as my strapping teenagers tower over me, I remember how nice it was to give them the opportunity to just be kids.  Watching Barney was still cool  and Rugrats was still a little too edgy.  Play dates were supervised and I knew who all of my kids’ friends were.  

Now, as they are in their teenage years, it’s more complicated.  We negotiate movies—is “Valkyrie” too violent to see?  What about R-rated movies--that, by the way, EVERYONE in their class is seeing? How much do I hover over their homework process, or lack there of?  What happens when (gulp) they start to drive?  

Ah, to go back to the Island of Sodor, where all is solved by the end of the video or book.  Everyone has learned his lesson, and is ready for the next adventure.

But as much as I think wistfully about the simplicity of their younger years, I do have to say that I really enjoy my boys as they are now.  They have their own thoughts and ideas and they often actually want to tell me about them.  “Dodgers OF Manny Ramirez tested positive for performance-enhancing drugs,” my soon-to-be 16 year old texts me.  Do I care about Manny Ramirez?  Well, not really, but I do care that he cares, and I’m grateful that when he has news, I’m the one he wants to share it with.

Our collection of train paraphernalia grew over the years.  We added bridges and tunnels, trees, and many other trains.  They now sit in a big plastic box in our basement.  While the boys no longer play with them, they also aren’t quite willing to give them away.  I think they recognize that box as a symbol of their childhood, and want to hang onto it awhile longer.  Works for me.

Pamela appears Tuesdays on TriangleMom2Mom. Read more about Pamela on her blog Crazy is My Life.