Barbie Adendum

An old friend of mine, Carolyn, works at Allure, and they have included this piece on Barbie's 50th birthday. Since she shared with me, I thought I would share with you.

http://www.allure.com/magazine/2009/02/a_barbie_world

FYI: So far two out of, I don't know, ten readers now, say Barbie isn't bad.

Thanks for the feedback!

Is Barbie Bad?

I'm not really sure what got me thinking today. But having a very rare quiet moment, I started to wonder about this stigma that is attached to Barbie. Natalie's birthday is right around the corner, and I am back and forth on if she needs a "kids" party. I mean she is only going to be four. Which then led me to think about gifts that a four-year-old would recieve, and I think that is how I arrived here.

Other than her unattaibable proportions, what is so bad about Barbie? If she were size 16 Barbie, would that be a better toy for a young girl? She is beautiful. Is that bad? Or is it just bad becuase she is blonde and beautiful? If Barbie were brunette and beautiful, would it make a difference? She is ambitious. Is there a field that Barbie has yet to conquer? Is that bad? Is being Dr. Barbie, Astronaut Barbie, Lawyer Barbie a bad thing? There is no Real Housewives of Barbieville Barbie, so I guess I am confused why this new generation of moms are so against Barbie.

I had Barbies growing up. In fact, my cousin and I used to play for HOURS with Barbie, and I don't remember our pretend Barbie scenarios being bad. I don't ever remember staring at the sea of perfectly formed plastic blondes thinking, I wish I looked like that. I just remember hours and hours of fun with my cousin. Is fun bad? Is pretend bad? And if so, is it bad to play pretend with other dolls? Natalie has a Melissa and Doug dollhouse that came with little wood people, they too have figures that are unattainable, are they bad? The mom in that set wears an apron. An apron! What does that imply?

Natalie has shown no interest in the Barbies yet, but I feel that they are quickly approaching the horizon and here I am wondering, is that bad?

Tiny Dancer

Last summer, Natalie and I began watching a great kid's show, Little Einsteins. Because Disney controls our brains, we were immediately hooked on these four little kids who excelled in the arts, and went on musical missions to save things that were going awry in famous art pieces. Being the liberal arts minded people we are, we thought this show is great. Classical music and classical artwork that I child is interested in, one more reason she is special.

June, a character from the show is a the dancer. (Annie the singer, Quincy the musician, and Leo the conductor.) Shortly thereafter, Natalie began dancing, twirling, and leaping all throughout the house. The time had come, a fact of a girl's life that I was honestly hoping we would skip, it was time to try dancing classes.

In a moment of craziness, I decided that Saturday at 9:15 was the perfect time to take such class. We're up, what's the big deal? Let me tell you, IF we do it again, it will not be on a Saturday morning.

Regardless, each Saturday we would rush to eat breakfast, tights, leotard, hair up, and out the door to meet up with the ten other three year olds in her class. I remember the first class very clearly. There was my little girl, who would leap and twirl around our house any time she heard music or not, with absolutely no rhythm whatsoever. I had thought, much like everything else that she does, dancing would come as an immediate talent. Not so much. But as the weeks went on, she would come home and not just leap and twirl, but passe and grande chatay (sp?). So, in the end, she was learning something.

June FINALLY arrived for the big recital, which around April was the only pull that was keeping her interest. "I don't want to go to dance class," she would whine. To which I would reply, "But you want to wear your costume in the big recital, right?" Smile, "Yeah, let's go!"

The dress rehearsal was the Thursday before the show and our now little four year olds were taken out of the comfort of the studio and placed on a new stage and expected to perform their tap and ballet routines. It was rough to watch to say the least. I tried to forewarn Dan that is was adorably awful.

However, as with everything that Natalie does, recital day came, costume and make-up on, hair in a bun, and our little dancer took to the stage, and turned it on, performing the routines as perfectly as any four year old could be expected.

Apologies

I feel that I have abandoned the blog. But for the past two weeks I have been consumed by Stephenie Meyer's saga of Edward and Bella. I have read all four books and have moved onto her website to read Midnight Sun, which, if you have read the series and haven't checked this one out, please do. (Thank you, Jennifer, mi prima favorita) It is Twilight from Edward's perspective. I will also admit(begrudgingly), that I have gone back and am re-reading Twilight. Since I barreled through all of the books because I couldn't help myself, I went back to take it in a little slower and really digest the novel.

When I haven't had my face in a book, I have been proofing and editing some Australian teen survey, which if the 200 page Word document and the 2800 responses in a spreadsheet weren't daunting, the fact that I had to learn a new form of the English language was. I don't know if my "employer" will be pleased, as there were words that I genuinely couldn't tell you if they were misspelled because I didn't even know they were words!

Couple all of this with two kids, a dog, a house(that has been TOTALLY neglected), a husband, and a head cold, and, well, something had to give.

But alas, I am back and have some thoughts up my sleeve, so stay tuned.

Shout Out

I have to say, that having a blog about my day-to-day and random thoughts is really rather indulgent. Some of you may find this hard to believe, but I am actually totally out of my comfort zone and feel very vulnerable and exposed. Yet, I KEEP posting.

In my first post, I mentioned that it was with encouragement from my dear friend, Steve that I was actually able to get over that first hump and just start, but since then there have been people who read this regularly, enjoy it, and comment on it. And, as I mentioned to someone just today, it isn't just my inner circle of friends who are reading, in fact, I think that it is the outer circle who read it with more regularity.

So, I feel that I have to give a shout out to people who read this, Ravi, Anne, Jen R., Carolyn, Kate, Deb - all of whom have gone out of their way to let me know they enjoy this self-indulgence.

Lastly, I have to give a big shout out to my good friend, Alissa, mother of my son's best friend. A long time ago, her husband, Eric, told me and the girls, that we would never want to be another girl trying to work her way into this small group of friends. She is truly a pioneer!

So thank you all for reading and letting me know about it.

The Daddy Boy

There used to be a Diet Coke commercial, long before kids were even part of my life plan, of a dad and his kids in the super market, flying down the frozen food section, like the cart was a ride. The voice over of the commercial talked about how he had given up going to the gym and a 32 in waist (something like that) to ultimately say that he has no idea how much sexier he is now.

When I see Dan with our kids, I am often reminded of this commercial. He is the best part of everyone's day-- human jungle gym, trampoline, horse, shoulder-ride giver, leg-ride giver, battery replacer, tall block building designer, Cootie Bug player, Where the Sidewalk Ends reader, couch cushion fort builder, nature hike guide, and fixer of broken toys and scraped knees alike.

We love you, Daddy!

Once Bitten

I feel the need to humble myself after outing my mosaic-mad neighbor (which isn't done, by the way, and I have finally got Dan agreeing with me that it IS weird to tile the front of your house.)

But, as usual, that is not really the point of my post.

I am a little late to get on the band wagon, but for the past week I have been consumed my the Twilight saga. I don't know why I am embarrassed by this, because most everyone I know has read it, but I can't do anything but read. In fact, I haven't been quite so preoccupied with something since, Dylan McKay and Brandon Walsh posters were hanging on my bedroom walls. I don't think that the never-ending overcast and rain that is falling upon the coast is helping either.

I have to admit, that it isn't the most well-written book, in the sense that the words don't flow like poetry; they are not particularly filled with color, nonetheless, my heart races when I read it and if I do have to put the book down, which inevitably happens when I have to be parental, I find myself thinking about what I just read. I never really pegged myself, for the fantasy genre type, and since I am laying it out there, I do somehow find the werewolf storyline a little harder to believe than that of vampires...I don't know why. Werewolves are just less sexy than vampires, I guess. After finishing New Moon and eagerly awaiting my borrowed copies of Eclipse and Breaking Dawn to arrive from New Jersey, I scanned my bookshelves for Dracula, with the hope that my irrational reaction to this series is rooted in classic literature, as I do have some faint recollection of being mesmerized by the story in college.

I read one page and closed the book ready for bed, thinking to myself Edward's words, "I guess I am just not impressed with antiquity."