Big surprise. Madeline was a princess for Halloween. I tried to persuade her in another less-cliche direction, but in her limited understanding of Halloween, she wanted to be a "beautiful princess ballerina dress." What could I do? We went to my friend Karen's house, raided her princess paraphernalia and dressed Matthew up as a pea. I had to explain his costume all night long, but when people got it, it was funny in a you're-mildly-clever sort-of-way. Something, anything, to make the princess less stereotypical.
There was a costume party at the weekly music class we attend. I sat on my carpet square on the edge of the circle and watched as Madeline shuffled in wearing these ridiculous plastic gold high heels. She made her way into the center of the circle and stayed there for the majority of singing time with her arms stretched out behind her and her chin pointed to the sky. Spinning and twirling. Feeling beautiful. Feeling princess. Feeling ballerina.
It was heartbreaking to watch. Granted, it was also funny. And heartwarming in a way. But for some reason it yanked at me in so many ways that it started feeling terribly complex--so much so that it began to represent everything that I want for Madeline as a woman. As a little girl. As a princess. And the problem was that so many of the feelings were contradictory.
On one hand, she must absolutely know that she is beautiful. But I don't want her to care. And she must not link her identity--good or bad--to what she looks like. And she cannot think her princess status is at all linked to a flowy purple dress and gold shoes.
But then again, when, WHEN, is she ever going to be in such a place in life like this when strangers on the street stop to tell her she is such a beautiful princess as she flows down the street begging candy off the neighbors? And where all it takes is a purple dress and a fairy crown for her to believe them?
Watching someone else's childhood as intensely as I am watching the two that I have is wondrous and terrible at the same time. It is so dang fleeting--so brief--and then there is an eternity of adulthood lurking. And you want to protect them and arm them at the same time. Want them to be the princess whirling in the middle of the circle at the same time that you hate the fact that your daughter wants to be a princess because it is a gigantic marketing ploy. And the princess will turn into Seventeen which turns into Vogue which yields Botox and liposuction.
And can you believe that somewhere on the edge of my subconscious, leaking into my conscious as I watched Madeline clomping around on those tiny heels, were all these thoughts and I almost lost it then and there? I might have, except I was laughing at the sheer unmasked feelings flashing across her face as she danced. She was princess. She was ballerina. She was beautiful.
I wonder if my feelings were as apparent as her's were as I watched from my carpet square, on the edge of the circle.
13 comments:
Everything I have thought about Erika but put so eloquently! She is verging on the "seventeen" and you captured just how I feel. Such a sweet little princess you have.
and I wonder if my expression while reading your post was as telling as Madaline's or yours. I loved it- Beautiful and so well written.
Lovely, lovely, lovely. Please write more. Sweet Madeline. I know, I am afraid of all of these things. Not sure why I feel so strongly that she should wear a lot of blue. It makes me want to put her in pink, if you know what I mean...Love you dearly.
What a beautiful post. I cried. Sorry, you don't know me. I know Rebecca. I just wrote a similar post on my blog a few days ago--although without any of the insight or meaning. Thanks for this.
I can just see Madeline dancing and princessing at her little music class. Thanks for your lovely thoughts......Mom Mc
You know, I've thought a lot about this and I think it comes down to how the mothers feel about themselves. My mom used to say that the best gift you can give your kids is to be self-confident (or something a little more memorable where it was more clear that the mom should be the self-confident one).
The closest I've ever seen you come to following trends was your collection of body suits from 7th grade. Because I've only seen you wear mascara three times in your life, I think Madeline's pretty safe.
(This, of course, doesn't necessarily mean teenage girls who embody teenagehood have terrible mothers. But I at least hope for my thoughts to be true. And I'm a little relieved I have son(s).)
Amen, Shannon. Well said. (Shannon's one of the wisest mothers I know, anyway).
You made me cry--It is quite OK, even wonderful for Madeline to be a princess--because she truly is the best kind of princess. Do you remember Pres. Thompson's story about his daughter, Kristen? When she was a little girl, she told him that she had a dream that Jesus came to her. He asked her if he said anything, and Kristen said, "He told me that I am a princess." Love, Mom
(PS--Shannon, what was your wise comment?)
I was a princess most Halloweens.I was Cinderella a couple of times in High School. Maddie might be into dress-up for a long time. I still get excited for any rare event in adult life that requires more then Sunday clothing.
Here's my comment again-I took it off because it was long and I wondered if anyone else felt the same way about this...
Livi wears crowns with swimsuits with tap shoes (sometimes with tutus) in public on a regular basis. Just because she can. Because she likes to. Because it makes her happy. We own princess dresses, but not because we want to be like everyone else or because of brilliant marketing. We have them because we have girls. Because I think princess dresses are adorable. Because they are fun to play with. Livi’s favorite crown is from all-a-dollar, and her tap shoes are hand-me-downs, so I don’t think we’re teaching her materialism.
What I hope she is learning that will help her as a woman is that her opinion matters. That if you really believe in something to speak up. That there are natural consequences to everything (swimsuits are cold in winter). That sometimes doing the right thing is hard, and there’s a time and a place for things, and there are rules we have to follow (we don’t wear dress-ups to church). I hope she is learning how to take a compliment & believe it, because pretty soon she’ll be 13 and feel awkward and taking a compliment might be really hard. She is learning that we have to live with our choices (I’m not driving back home so you can change) and that it’s easier to make a good choice in the first place. She is learning that it’s okay not to be like everyone else and that you should express yourself. And what I really hope she is learning is that I’m going to support her and love her no matter what, regardless of what others might think, even if I’m not happy about her choice. I want all of my girls to feel beautiful, comfortable in their own skin, and loved no matter what. I want them to feel secure.
I fully agree with you that it is scary to raise daughters in a world where there is so much focus on beauty and perfection and possessions. And you are right, we need to protect them and arm them at the same time. So my thought is, let them twirl around and soak up all the confidence they can while they can- because it’s insecurity that leads to Botox and Seventeen and liposuction. It’s insecurity that leads girls to date crappy boys, to take on more than they can handle because-what-would-people-think-if-I-said-no, and to choose bad friends. It’s insecurity that leads them to follow the crowd and to cake on too much makeup.
Like you said, it all goes so fast. Someday you will look at Maddy and have a hard time remembering when her feet were small enough for gold plastic heels… so please make peace with princess dresses and enjoy it while it lasts.
Love you, I’m stepping off my soapbox now.
Wow! I love Shannon's post. The Spencer family definitely has a way with words. Let the PPP live on in our children. Let them be princesses by being confident, strong, smart, respected, and respectful.
I must side with Shannon here and I won't even attempt to say any better what she said. All I have to add is one of my favorite Christmas memories. Elsa was thrilled a couple of years ago to receive a very sparkly Cinderella dress up dress. She put it on immediately with her Cinderella glass (white plastic) slippers, a necklace, and a crown. She then turned to her Dad and said, "Dad will you be my prince charmy?" He picked her up and danced with her, I took a picture while trying not to cry. Shelley, you can't buy moments like this and you will be sorry when one day Maddy no longer wants to dress up like a princess. Enjoy this wonderful time and stop worrying that princess dress up will lead to her not knowing that it's the inside that counts. You teach her that everyday, the rest is just fun clothes.
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