Joy, Anger, Sadness
|The whole gang: Papa as Fear and Aunt Carrie as Disgust|
You won't be surprised to learn that we have seen the newest Disney/Pixar movie twice. You will be even less surprised to learn that my eyes leaked both times; despite the fact that I knew what was going to happen. Both times! And you will be even less surprised to learn that my children immediately cast those around them as characters from the movie. This has happened from the moment Sweet Girl discovered the Heffalump Movie: she has cast those around her as characters in her favorite moving pictures. This is something Little Man has not only accepted as normal, he has run with it and changes our characters multiple times in a day. Fortunately, he's got great communication skills for a director (which I almost spelled 'dictator', Mr. Freud) and announces to all involved the changes that have been made. "Mom! I am Miles and sister is Moretta and you're Mom and Dad is Dad." I have fewer character and wardrobe changes than others. Though they have different styles in their casting, one thing both Sweet Girl and Little Man have in common is casting themselves as stars. This is appropriate for their development, as most people feel the world revolves around them until their mid-twenties I'd say, and even later for professional politicians. And it makes for some great character acting opportunities for me, though I'd argue that my children have far more character than I do.
|So pretty, I'll just stare at the memory globes for a bit. |
|Joy even in the midst of rain|
|He doesn't look angry.|
I realized that as I age (again, sigh), the more my memory globes become muddled with different colors. Sweet Girl's and Little Man's globes are pure color, I'm sure, as they feel their feels and feel them at that moment thoroughly. But, every time I hold Little Man and hear him giggle I am filled with joy enough to power our home with an accompanying streak of sadness, as I know these moments are finite. Little Man will one day cease to be a quirky little boy made of marshmallow fluff, giggles, and questions and will instead be a moody tween, a moody teenager, eventually even a (moody? probably) adult. The laughter and giggles that he creates now in his moments of pure yellow, joyful, memory globes will someday be tempered, possibly even relegated to the Memory Dump. How can a mother's heart not break a little knowing that? This blue turtleneck fits perfectly. I wonder about Sweet Girl. I wonder if her differently-wired brain will ever master that tempering of emotion, and again the colors swirl and cloud my thoughts. I fear that she won't and that will make life more difficult for her. I am sad that I don't know how to help make that better, faster, easier; I am sad that I don't know. I am angry that she should ever be expected to be anyone else than who she is. I am disgusted that I am sometimes one of the people who expect her to be different than she is. But when I wonder about Sweet Girl, and even Little Man, though the colors are tempered and blended and mixed, the one I see the most is yellow. Because they are my joy.
|A little porch swing time at Nana and Papa's.|
Post-script: This movie has sparked several conversations about emotions in my house. And it has confirmed for me that both of my children think in pictures. As we turn on the soundtrack (no words!) Little Man is able to recall what happened in the movie while that particular theme played and Sweet Girl is able to fill in the details of the images. Interesting.