Yes, Frozen. Frozen deserves its own blog post. Frozen was a huge part of our winter: viewing the movie 3 times (Aunt Cassie, Daddy, Mommy). Frozen dance parties almost every afternoon. Frozen paraphernalia scattered around the house. Talking about Frozen at the dinner table. Pretending to be Elsa on top of the snow mountains in our front yard. Karis enters the world of Frozen with her whole heart, I watch her emulate the characters, replay scenes, sing, dance.
One of my favorite winter memories was during Epiphany, we gave Karis Epiphany gifts, one each day for a few days. On Epiphany Sunday, we came home from church and had a rushed lunch and then gave an Elsa barbie doll to Karis as her final gift. Her exclamations included, "I'm so glad it wasn't a book! This is the best day of my life! Can we have more Epiphany?!". Memorable to the max. Then ten minutes later Trev whisked Karis away to see the movie (we often don't tell Karis about "treats" until they happen, it can be a long day of "when are we going to . . . " when she knows too early).
An apt quote I read lately in Russell Baker's memoir Growing Up, said about when he was young and for Christmas received a toy steam shovel from his grandmother : "Left to her own devices, my mother, I suspect, would not have thought of such a beautiful, ingenious machine but would have given me a book".
Indeed! I mostly give Karis books. This taught me that mommy's can be fun and indulgent too, and Frozen has indeed taught me to "Let it Go" (if you're not familiar, that's a hit song from the movie). Because here's the thing - when Karis latched on to Frozen and wouldn't let go, I was a bit anxious and fearful and hesitant. We "opened the Disney door" and it seemed there was no going back (why this made me anxious, well - I guess that's another post). As the days went by, seeing her imagination thriving, and watching some of the online clips with her, I started to "get it". I started to meet her where she IS. And wow, meeting in the middle on something Karis chose to love made such a difference in our relationship. We bonded over the enjoyment of the music. We decided to try Frozen clips as an "incentive" for trying to "sleep like a big girl" and for a while Trev was back in our bed.
This is a lesson I hope to remember - "Let it Go". Let Karis choose. Meet her where she IS, love and embrace and enjoy (when the object of interest is benevolent, that is).
Taking Karis to the movie is one of my favorite memories ever . . . we woke up one cold Saturday in February and I said, "Guess where we're going this morning?". We whisked away to a morning show and I took in the whole experience: the way Karis brought a purse to match mine, wore her purple-dollar-bin crown. The way several of the children in the audience were saying, "Mom, you're gonna LOVE it" (I was in the company of other moms whose daughters had seen it before and without them). As the scenes unraveled and we immersed ourselves intensely in the story, I saw why Karis has been so captivated - because now I am, too. The story reminded me to "open the doors" in staying open in relationships, to "avoid ice-olation", to "let it go". It reminded me that inner conflict can be difficult but that there is freedom in embracing that that there is strength in weakness.
Karis and I came back from the movie exhausted - she went and laid on the floor in the toy room (and really kind of shut down and was quite out of sorts). I felt like I couldn't possibly articulate the experience. I guess we kind of came down from the high of the ice castles and back to reality. But really, what a wonderful memory of time together. And really, those Frozen dance parties saved the winter.
And really, I have so much more I could say about Disney and Frozen: the theme of mother/daughter/parent relationships, grieving lost time while moving forward, the villainization of mothers (!). I'm going to leave some of those jumbled thoughts in my head for now.
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| The barista even wrote "Princess Anna" on the cup |
Some outside thoughts on Frozen:
This blog post - I think both Karis and I have some "extra", and it's good to be on this journey of learning to not be ruled by emotion (yet to feel at the same time).
This article - her way of articulating a day with children made me laugh and almost cry. And the part about not being able to really communicate with Trev in the way I'd like at the end of the day . . . well, she just put words to the momma-feelings that are part of daily life.
Some other Karis-isms:
- "Oh I wish I could just stay in bed until winter is done"
- (after I said to Karis, "Can you just stay little forever?"): "No mommy! The thing about kids is, they grow up!"
- "Hey mom, let's send a text message to Teavana and tell them the honey stick is good in hot chocolate!"
- After I asked Karis if she'd take me to see Frozen, she said, "But mommy, I can't drive!". Then she grabbed my face and said, "Mommy, I have to tell you. There are some little shows before Frozen comes on!"
- "Mommy, can you please be a good mommy and not throw my toys and art away?" (she sees scraps in the garbage sometimes. oops)
- "Best day ever!" (a line from Tangled, which really has become a fun catch phrase around our house)
- "Mom, I have a great idea! Judah should have an 'Olaf' Birthday when he turns two!"
- "I'm going back to Arandelle" (said while on top of a snow bank and I went out to check on her)
- "The internet is a bunch of computers connected to a network"
- "Mommy, I'll pray a quick blessing over you: Father, I pray that you would give mommy peace, and joy and confidence"
- "Da-da, what are the games behind my eyes?" (we think she means dreams)
- "So, do you have any husbands?" (said to a babysitter before she left for the evening)
- "Dear Lord, I pray that daddy would put up ALL his crafts at work. And I pray that we'd live in this house forever"
- "We'll have to just see how the day goes" (think she's heard that before?)
- "Well mommy, sometimes I can't do things right away" (think she's heard that before also?)
- "Oh wow, my room is a MESS!" (um, I try not to say that!)
- "I don't like your pajamas. I don't want to spend time with you" (I've for sure never said that)
- "I have two daddies: Trevor, and my daddy in heaven" (wow, I was blown away. I later learned this was an in-depth topic at Sunday school one day, when a precious little girl was talking about how she doesn't have a daddy. Heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time . . . )
Other tidbits from here and there:
This song: Come Down, O Love Divine
In reading:
From At Large and At Small by Anne Fadiman: "One reason we have children, I think, is to experience through them the miracle of (creation): to learn that parts of ourselves we had given up for dear are merely dormant, and that the old joys can re-emerge, fresh and new and in a completely different form."
From A Step From Death by Larry Woiwode (don't even get me started on how much I loved loved loved this book):
"Up to the age of four, the loveliest age in children, when they're still wholly themselves, before the world of learning and its version of what is 'real' has had a chance to impinge--to that age you were mostly mine."
From What I Think I Did by Larry Woiwode (the paragraph that closes the book)
"It has all been gravy . . . and better, grace and gracious people put in my way, and yet more grace. I wring my hands as if washing them, wishing they were wings to lift me off in this wind streaming through me in a force I've never felt until now, or so I think, and then I think, I'm launched."
From Still Points North by Leigh Newman:
"Because talking is not always what is being said. Sometimes, there's a story underneath the words of husbands and wives - and fathers and mothers and grandmothers . . . - and, in my small, inglorious experience, regardless of how it ends, regardless of every indication that seems so emphatically to contradict it, that story is almost always a love story."
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