Ever since I first saw Tangled, I've struggled with liking it as much as I've wanted to. The horse, Maximus, alone is enough reason to love the film. He's awesome. And I very much like that the relationship between heroine and hero grows instead of happens at first sight. But the "I love you most" and "mother knows best" exchanges left me feeling icky. How, as a mother, am I supposed to help my daughters differentiate between a mother who really is doing her best to do what's right to protect and care for her children and a creepy, horrible user who uses some of the same loving words?
Finally, while watching it again today, I figured out how to use the film to support an important lesson to protect my girls. I focused them on how the King and Queen never stopped loving, never stopped looking and never stopped hoping that they would find their baby girl--I told them that would be how their mommy and daddy would be. And I talked about how there were, sadly, some really terrible people out there who actually took children and while they weren't witches, they would tell terrible lies to the children--they could say things like "mommy and daddy are dead" or "mommy doesn't love you anymore." I explained how, if something happened to us, there were lots of people who the girls actually knew who love them and would come take care of them and that there would NEVER be a time we didn't love them, EVER. So anyone who told them that was lying and could not be trusted.
It's a harsh reality that there are terrible people out there, and it's even harder trying to impart that to your children without making the world too scary. So, now, I can watch the movie with less stress and more enjoyment and have an important, yet gentle conversation starter.
#whyIloveDisney
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Friday, September 27, 2013
The Science of Beauty aka Unhelpful Areas of Research
While I am a huge fan of science and appreciate the benefits of scientific research and discovery, I find the line of research regarding what makes a person physically attractive to be unnecessary at best and seriously damaging at worst. What set me to write this little rant are stories that, ironically, both came from HuffingtonPost.
The first article and others like it on the "science of beauty" are exactly the things that lead to people ending up feeling they are not pretty enough (touched on in the second link), a much more serious and destructive issue than, I think, some people realize.
Short video on the science of beauty (just one of far too many available on the subject)
Other HuffingtonPost 'article', this one on how "outrageous" it is that someone would tell another person they are not pretty enough
So how about this, big "thinkers" and researchers, instead of trying to track down and limit by strict definition how we process and define beauty, why don't you work on how to expand the horizons of people's definitions of beauty. I'm really tired of reading about how this feature or measurement is ideal and this is not. It's not a healthy barometer. Let's do more research on what makes some people have a much broader spectrum of perceived beauty and how to help others expand theirs. If you start now, by the time my daughters are old enough to read/listen to this type of research there will be things on the topic of beauty worth reading and hearing.
And in the meantime, I will work on teaching my daughters that human value and real beauty cannot actually be measured by a ruler or color chart.
Jen Tress's website. Read the shared stories and see how damaging these superficial measurements can be. And how strong people can be.
The first article and others like it on the "science of beauty" are exactly the things that lead to people ending up feeling they are not pretty enough (touched on in the second link), a much more serious and destructive issue than, I think, some people realize.
Short video on the science of beauty (just one of far too many available on the subject)
Other HuffingtonPost 'article', this one on how "outrageous" it is that someone would tell another person they are not pretty enough
So how about this, big "thinkers" and researchers, instead of trying to track down and limit by strict definition how we process and define beauty, why don't you work on how to expand the horizons of people's definitions of beauty. I'm really tired of reading about how this feature or measurement is ideal and this is not. It's not a healthy barometer. Let's do more research on what makes some people have a much broader spectrum of perceived beauty and how to help others expand theirs. If you start now, by the time my daughters are old enough to read/listen to this type of research there will be things on the topic of beauty worth reading and hearing.
And in the meantime, I will work on teaching my daughters that human value and real beauty cannot actually be measured by a ruler or color chart.
Jen Tress's website. Read the shared stories and see how damaging these superficial measurements can be. And how strong people can be.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
September 11, 2013
As I walked to airport security this morning, I couldn't help but notice the extra police presence.
Oddly, I rather like flying in this solemn anniversary. It's my little nonviolent response to the terrorists--you can't stop us from living our lives. We are stronger than you know.
God bless the survivors and the families and friends of the lost. Let them know we have not forgotten.
That was my Facebook status update this morning. I still remember every detail of that day--the instant message conversation I had with my friend and coworker who, working from home in Toronto, had on CNN and started giving me the play by play. I remember, at first, thinking it was a terrible accident with a small plane. And my heart still hurts recalling the moment when we realized it wasn't an accident. I remember being sick with fear for my father who could've easily been at the Pentagon and for my stepmother who worked in DC. I remember all the emails from family and friends asking me for assurance that I was not flying that day. I remember sending emails asking for the same thing from friends who lived and/or worked in New York. I remember the relief upon hearing none of our road warriors were on those flights, and the loosening of some of the knots in my stomach when I finally heard from my father, stepmother and friends who lived and worked in Arlington and New York (though it took a few days before I heard from all my NY friends). And I remember my heart breaking again upon hearing about the passengers on flight 93, who took on the terrorists and saved lives while losing theirs.
Living so close to Washington Dulles Airport, I found it surreal not to hear or see planes. Watching the news and the brave first responders, I kept wanting to wake up and find it was all a terrible dream. And even with sadness and fear that filled me, I wanted to get on a plane. I, immediately, wanted to defy the terrorists.
With all those vivid memories that still bring tears to my eyes and tightness to my chest, I was so happy today to see all of my friends celebrating their children born on September 11th in the years following the saddest of days in 2001. Children are born, giving the world new hope with their potential and giving us a reason to smile and cheer, even on this sad anniversary. We go on living our lives. We are stronger than we know. And if we live our lives with gratitude and love, the terrorists can never prevail.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Glass ceilings replaced by Lucite heels
So, out of morbid curiosity, I watched the train wreck of the VMAs so many people are chatting about. I was reminded why I don't ever watch the VMAs.
I was deeply saddened by the whole terrible performance. Primarily, I am distressed that under the guise of sexual freedom and "grown woman" confidence, that child (yes, she is still a child, 20 is very young) and so many young women like her are enslaving themselves to a role of world wide sex toy. It is not confidence that makes a girl/woman throw herself out there like that, it is a deep need for attention and validation that she will never ever find if she remains on that path.
In her effort to shed her "nice" girl, Hannah Montana image she has debased herself. She has, however, accomplished her mission of never again being someone young people should look up to or idolize. She has joined the ranks of Lindsey Lohan as the butt of jokes. I am sad for her.
And I am sad for young girls everywhere being bombarded with the message, not just from Miley, that their sexuality is the only thing they have of value AND that they should give it away freely and indiscriminately.
I realize I sound like an old-fashioned biddy. I may be, but this nonsense is not what the women who came before us worked and fought so hard to give us.
My step-mother didn't don the gray suit and sensible pumps and push the boundaries of what the BIG 6 accounting firms expected of a woman, especially from a single mother, so young women could aspire to be party girls. She didn't break through the glass ceilings so girls could dance on glass stages in their underpants. She and others like her forced a male dominated corporate world to recognized the value of smart, driven and talented women so that women like myself could walk into job interviews with confidence that our education, work experience and skill sets, not our gender and cleavage would be the measurements by which we are judged.
Now a society that claims to value women has actually set us back to the days of harem girls and concubines. I suppose one could suggest the "advancement" of this age is that everyone, not just the rich and powerful, can "enjoy" these toys. Very egalitarian.
I am very worried for my girls--the media of today--TV, print, internet, movies--are all conspiring to diminish them. But I will do all that I can to provide additional messaging. They will spend many years hating me for not letting them wear age inappropriate clothes, make up, shoes or jewelry. They will be annoyed by my constantly reminding them how bright and competent and valuable they are. And they will be bored by the regular refrain about true beauty comes from within. And with a little luck and prayer, some of my messaging will sink in a provide a shield from or at least a good counter to this new era of inequality that paints women just objects of amusement.
I was deeply saddened by the whole terrible performance. Primarily, I am distressed that under the guise of sexual freedom and "grown woman" confidence, that child (yes, she is still a child, 20 is very young) and so many young women like her are enslaving themselves to a role of world wide sex toy. It is not confidence that makes a girl/woman throw herself out there like that, it is a deep need for attention and validation that she will never ever find if she remains on that path.
In her effort to shed her "nice" girl, Hannah Montana image she has debased herself. She has, however, accomplished her mission of never again being someone young people should look up to or idolize. She has joined the ranks of Lindsey Lohan as the butt of jokes. I am sad for her.
And I am sad for young girls everywhere being bombarded with the message, not just from Miley, that their sexuality is the only thing they have of value AND that they should give it away freely and indiscriminately.
I realize I sound like an old-fashioned biddy. I may be, but this nonsense is not what the women who came before us worked and fought so hard to give us.
My step-mother didn't don the gray suit and sensible pumps and push the boundaries of what the BIG 6 accounting firms expected of a woman, especially from a single mother, so young women could aspire to be party girls. She didn't break through the glass ceilings so girls could dance on glass stages in their underpants. She and others like her forced a male dominated corporate world to recognized the value of smart, driven and talented women so that women like myself could walk into job interviews with confidence that our education, work experience and skill sets, not our gender and cleavage would be the measurements by which we are judged.
Now a society that claims to value women has actually set us back to the days of harem girls and concubines. I suppose one could suggest the "advancement" of this age is that everyone, not just the rich and powerful, can "enjoy" these toys. Very egalitarian.
I am very worried for my girls--the media of today--TV, print, internet, movies--are all conspiring to diminish them. But I will do all that I can to provide additional messaging. They will spend many years hating me for not letting them wear age inappropriate clothes, make up, shoes or jewelry. They will be annoyed by my constantly reminding them how bright and competent and valuable they are. And they will be bored by the regular refrain about true beauty comes from within. And with a little luck and prayer, some of my messaging will sink in a provide a shield from or at least a good counter to this new era of inequality that paints women just objects of amusement.
Monday, July 15, 2013
A Prayer for Our Nation
I don't write this as a political statement or an expression of personal opinion over the verdict that has our country in an uproar today. My heart is sick over the state of our nation and I feel compelled to pray for us all. I am sharing my prayer and inviting people to join me, as I believe the more people who pray, the stronger the prayer. If prayer changes no one else but the person praying, it's a start.
I am praying for hearts to heal and minds to open. I am praying for people to stop holding Bill responsible for what Jim did simply because they share the same skin color or ethnic origins. I am praying for people to stop believing Mary thinks the same way as Barb because they share the same gender or faith. I am praying for people to stop believing Sam is motivated by the same things as Trevor because they have the same sexual orientation or political party. I'm praying for people to stop lumping others into groups based on superficial characteristics. I am praying that people stop perpetuating nonsense, stop returning violence with violence, hate with hate, willful ignorance with willful ignorance. Fear, suspicion, mistrust, prejudice, rage, violence and hatred have brought us to this painful place. I am praying that we will rise above our hurts, our fears and our biases and remember that forgiveness and love are the path to healing and redemption for us all. I am praying we have the strength to forgive and the courage to love.
I am praying for hearts to heal and minds to open. I am praying for people to stop holding Bill responsible for what Jim did simply because they share the same skin color or ethnic origins. I am praying for people to stop believing Mary thinks the same way as Barb because they share the same gender or faith. I am praying for people to stop believing Sam is motivated by the same things as Trevor because they have the same sexual orientation or political party. I'm praying for people to stop lumping others into groups based on superficial characteristics. I am praying that people stop perpetuating nonsense, stop returning violence with violence, hate with hate, willful ignorance with willful ignorance. Fear, suspicion, mistrust, prejudice, rage, violence and hatred have brought us to this painful place. I am praying that we will rise above our hurts, our fears and our biases and remember that forgiveness and love are the path to healing and redemption for us all. I am praying we have the strength to forgive and the courage to love.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
When it rains...you run an 8K?
Right after I ran the Nashville Color Run with a bunch of girlfriends from Crosspoint Community Church, all of the women who ran were excited about our accomplishment and fun so several of us signed up for the Birmingham Color Run. And one friend of mine signed up for a local race, an 8K race called the SteepleChase 8K. I wasn't sure I was ready to run a full 8K. I'd only just started regularly running 5Ks.
But then I saw it was the day before my birthday. I figured, if I could run a full 8K the day before my 42nd birthday, that would be cool. So I agreed to run with Lara.
Between the time I agreed to do the SteepleChase 8K and the time it arrived, I had no time to increase my training to 8 kilometers. In fact, I'd missed a couple of regular workout runs due to travel challenges. But I knew I could run 5k and if I power walked the rest, there'd be no shame--just finishing would be a personal win. Lara had the same mentality--she went in with the idea of just doing it would be personal win.
Well, the night before the race, the bottom fell out of the sky. Torrential rains fell all night long. I'd hoped it would clear up by morning but the forecast was not promising. Lara and I messaged each other and decided rain or shine we'd still go. At 5am race day, the rain was still pouring.
Now, my usual running partner and I have run in 19 degree windchill, we've run in the pitch black, the fog and even air so thick with pollen it coated our skin and clothes as we ran. Very little deters our morning workouts when I am in town. But we always postpone our run for rain.
At 5:30am race day, the rain had not abated. Lara made a trip to Walmart and picked us up some ponchos. We both headed to the SteepleChase check in, making pleas to the rain to go away. When I pulled into the parking lot, no kidding, The Cult's Rain was playing. The rain was going to be with us for the duration.
You can see us in the red ponchos left of center. Many more people actually registered for the race, but only the serious runners and a hand full of goobers who didn't know it was totally appropriate to forfeit your registration fee and stay home where it's warm and dry--you know, to take a rain-check.
All the serious runners had the good sense to wear shorts. When I saw it was 45 degrees and pouring rain, I put my all weather pants (ones I use to wear over ski leggings) over my running shorts. I wanted to stay as dry as I could. In hindsight, it should have occurred to me that, after nearly 20 years, some the weather proofing might have worn off. I quickly took on at least five extra pounds of water around my legs as my pants collected water between it's inner and outer layers. We'll call that a lesson learned. Lara and I had laughed about the less than aerodynamic aspects of our ponchos, but I'm glad I wore it. As soaked as I got, it would have been worse without. But between the water weights and poor aerodynamics, I have prime excuses for my less than impressive time.
Great pace time or not, I finished and in under an hour, which is better than I anticipated. While I did have to walk some, I ran more than I walked. And best of all, I wasn't even a little sore. This tells me I didn't push myself --I might actually be able to run a full 8k. And if I can do that is a 10k too much of a stretch? I reckon we'll see.
For the moment, I'm feeling really proud that I not only showed up to run in the pouring rain but I crossed the finish line with enough energy to go back down the race route to catch a friend who was behind me so I could accompany her to the end of the race.
We dragged our soaking wet selves inside and ate the offered Chick-fil-a chicken biscuits without shame or remorse. Mmm, warm chicken biscuits.
The best, most rewarding part of taking part in this race, however, was an exchange on Facebook I had with one of my friends from my days at Agnes Scott College. I have to preface this by mentioning this woman is an athlete to the core--soccer, softball, running. So the exchange is all the more meaningful to me.
But then I saw it was the day before my birthday. I figured, if I could run a full 8K the day before my 42nd birthday, that would be cool. So I agreed to run with Lara.
Between the time I agreed to do the SteepleChase 8K and the time it arrived, I had no time to increase my training to 8 kilometers. In fact, I'd missed a couple of regular workout runs due to travel challenges. But I knew I could run 5k and if I power walked the rest, there'd be no shame--just finishing would be a personal win. Lara had the same mentality--she went in with the idea of just doing it would be personal win.
Well, the night before the race, the bottom fell out of the sky. Torrential rains fell all night long. I'd hoped it would clear up by morning but the forecast was not promising. Lara and I messaged each other and decided rain or shine we'd still go. At 5am race day, the rain was still pouring.
Now, my usual running partner and I have run in 19 degree windchill, we've run in the pitch black, the fog and even air so thick with pollen it coated our skin and clothes as we ran. Very little deters our morning workouts when I am in town. But we always postpone our run for rain.
At 5:30am race day, the rain had not abated. Lara made a trip to Walmart and picked us up some ponchos. We both headed to the SteepleChase check in, making pleas to the rain to go away. When I pulled into the parking lot, no kidding, The Cult's Rain was playing. The rain was going to be with us for the duration.
So Lara and I donned our sexy ponchos and headed out to the start line.
You can see us in the red ponchos left of center. Many more people actually registered for the race, but only the serious runners and a hand full of goobers who didn't know it was totally appropriate to forfeit your registration fee and stay home where it's warm and dry--you know, to take a rain-check.
All the serious runners had the good sense to wear shorts. When I saw it was 45 degrees and pouring rain, I put my all weather pants (ones I use to wear over ski leggings) over my running shorts. I wanted to stay as dry as I could. In hindsight, it should have occurred to me that, after nearly 20 years, some the weather proofing might have worn off. I quickly took on at least five extra pounds of water around my legs as my pants collected water between it's inner and outer layers. We'll call that a lesson learned. Lara and I had laughed about the less than aerodynamic aspects of our ponchos, but I'm glad I wore it. As soaked as I got, it would have been worse without. But between the water weights and poor aerodynamics, I have prime excuses for my less than impressive time.
Great pace time or not, I finished and in under an hour, which is better than I anticipated. While I did have to walk some, I ran more than I walked. And best of all, I wasn't even a little sore. This tells me I didn't push myself --I might actually be able to run a full 8k. And if I can do that is a 10k too much of a stretch? I reckon we'll see.
For the moment, I'm feeling really proud that I not only showed up to run in the pouring rain but I crossed the finish line with enough energy to go back down the race route to catch a friend who was behind me so I could accompany her to the end of the race.
We dragged our soaking wet selves inside and ate the offered Chick-fil-a chicken biscuits without shame or remorse. Mmm, warm chicken biscuits.
The best, most rewarding part of taking part in this race, however, was an exchange on Facebook I had with one of my friends from my days at Agnes Scott College. I have to preface this by mentioning this woman is an athlete to the core--soccer, softball, running. So the exchange is all the more meaningful to me.
She called me a "runner." I'm a runner. Ha ha. I'm still giddy about that. But I am and if I can be a runner, just about anyone can.
Thursday, May 2, 2013
Music, Messages and the Magical 5 year old who gets it all.
My girls love music. They come by it honestly, both my husband and I enjoy music immensely. And I feed their fondness for music by indulging their requests when they ask for songs to be added to their iPods. E, my five year old, is the one who most often asks for songs. My parents supported my eclectic tastes so I try not to judge too harshly when she asks for something I'm sure will make my ears bleed. And I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE it when she asks for something that I really like.
So when after we watched the Life Vest Inside - Kindness Boomerang video my friend shared on Facebook, she asked for the song on her iPod, I could hardly find it fast enough on iTunes to get it for her (and me).
I left town for a work trip the next day and this morning was the first morning I'd spent with them since putting the song on her iPod. On the way to school, E say "thank you for putting that song on my iPod."
"Which song?" I asked.
"This one." And she played it. It's a 'gets me in my tear ducts' song and I cry a little each time it hear it. It's really beautiful in it's intention--even more beautiful than uplifting video that introduced me to it (I'm sure the song isn't new--I'm not up on current music the way I once was; can't seem to turn my Sirius FM off of First Wave). E sang along to the parts she's already memorized. There are a few places where the lyrics run together quickly and she has trouble discerning the words. She actually thought it might be in Spanish so she asked me to translate. I told her it wasn't in Spanish but I wasn't sure to which part she was referring. She reversed the song and replayed the part:
It's not about win or lose 'cause we all lose
When they feed on the souls of the innocent blood
Drenched pavement keep on moving'
Though waters stay ragin'
Frankly, I couldn't repeat the verse exactly so I just explained that it was talking about how we all lose when we don't show love and ignore our responsibilities to each other. And that the song was about how we don't have to be that way. And E piped up, "like how the construction worker stopped and helped the boy when everyone else just went past and the boy was happy and helped the lady who was afraid she couldn't get across the street fast enough with her bags and then everyone did something nice."
I got all choked up and had to catch my breath before I could reply. I realize the video is not subtle in its message, but had been nearly a week since the first and only time E had seen it but she remembered all the kindnesses and why they were important. "Yes, baby, exactly."
She played Matisyahu's One Day, all the way through again and then the next song, a favorite of mine by Live began. "You don't need no friends..." to which E responded "Yes, I do, I need my friends! I don't like that part of this song, Mommy. I like the other parts but I do need my friends"
Heaven is another 'gets me in my tear ducts' tune. It was the song that made me really like the band, Live and ever since I found out I was having my first baby girl, I can hardly hear it without becoming a puddle of goo. I love the song. "No, honey, he's not saying you don't need friends, he's just saying that you don't need other people to know God. People will sometimes tell you that God is one way or another. Some people will even try to tell you there is no God because they haven't seen God or heard God."
E's response nearly made me need to pull over. "People who can't see God aren't looking--God isn't really invisible. God is everywhere and in everything. And if people can't hear God, it's because they haven't found the quiet place their hearts to listen and hear God speak to them."
This child of mine, who perpetually chooses the path of most resistance when asked to go anywhere, this child who will do exact thing you told her not to do 30 seconds after you told her not to, this five year old little girl, gets it. She knows what many adults have trouble articulating, even believing. And these are her words. I've not drilled this into her. We do talk about God, but this her own interpretation and her own language.
It makes me happy beyond words that she is processing what she sees and hears and from all the noise that she is inundated with from TV, movies, music and stories, she is taking in the good stuff and putting it all in order.
As a mother, I will fret over lots of things regarding my girls, but I can rest easy knowing my little E's heart is definitely perfectly placed.
So when after we watched the Life Vest Inside - Kindness Boomerang video my friend shared on Facebook, she asked for the song on her iPod, I could hardly find it fast enough on iTunes to get it for her (and me).
I left town for a work trip the next day and this morning was the first morning I'd spent with them since putting the song on her iPod. On the way to school, E say "thank you for putting that song on my iPod."
"Which song?" I asked.
"This one." And she played it. It's a 'gets me in my tear ducts' song and I cry a little each time it hear it. It's really beautiful in it's intention--even more beautiful than uplifting video that introduced me to it (I'm sure the song isn't new--I'm not up on current music the way I once was; can't seem to turn my Sirius FM off of First Wave). E sang along to the parts she's already memorized. There are a few places where the lyrics run together quickly and she has trouble discerning the words. She actually thought it might be in Spanish so she asked me to translate. I told her it wasn't in Spanish but I wasn't sure to which part she was referring. She reversed the song and replayed the part:
It's not about win or lose 'cause we all lose
When they feed on the souls of the innocent blood
Drenched pavement keep on moving'
Though waters stay ragin'
Frankly, I couldn't repeat the verse exactly so I just explained that it was talking about how we all lose when we don't show love and ignore our responsibilities to each other. And that the song was about how we don't have to be that way. And E piped up, "like how the construction worker stopped and helped the boy when everyone else just went past and the boy was happy and helped the lady who was afraid she couldn't get across the street fast enough with her bags and then everyone did something nice."
I got all choked up and had to catch my breath before I could reply. I realize the video is not subtle in its message, but had been nearly a week since the first and only time E had seen it but she remembered all the kindnesses and why they were important. "Yes, baby, exactly."
She played Matisyahu's One Day, all the way through again and then the next song, a favorite of mine by Live began. "You don't need no friends..." to which E responded "Yes, I do, I need my friends! I don't like that part of this song, Mommy. I like the other parts but I do need my friends"
Heaven is another 'gets me in my tear ducts' tune. It was the song that made me really like the band, Live and ever since I found out I was having my first baby girl, I can hardly hear it without becoming a puddle of goo. I love the song. "No, honey, he's not saying you don't need friends, he's just saying that you don't need other people to know God. People will sometimes tell you that God is one way or another. Some people will even try to tell you there is no God because they haven't seen God or heard God."
E's response nearly made me need to pull over. "People who can't see God aren't looking--God isn't really invisible. God is everywhere and in everything. And if people can't hear God, it's because they haven't found the quiet place their hearts to listen and hear God speak to them."
This child of mine, who perpetually chooses the path of most resistance when asked to go anywhere, this child who will do exact thing you told her not to do 30 seconds after you told her not to, this five year old little girl, gets it. She knows what many adults have trouble articulating, even believing. And these are her words. I've not drilled this into her. We do talk about God, but this her own interpretation and her own language.
It makes me happy beyond words that she is processing what she sees and hears and from all the noise that she is inundated with from TV, movies, music and stories, she is taking in the good stuff and putting it all in order.
As a mother, I will fret over lots of things regarding my girls, but I can rest easy knowing my little E's heart is definitely perfectly placed.
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