Please Don't Shut Me Out Again.
I'll finally go there. Into FROZEN territory. My daughters have fallen in love with this movie and its soundtrack echoes in our home, in our vehicles, and I swear even into our dreams. You would think it may be the stuff of nightmares, a Disney princess movie mantra sneaking its way into every corner of your life. Oddly enough, or maybe sadly, this movie and all its quotes and songs and characters fit us so well that we don't even notice anymore that we're using it as reference.
I answered the phone just the other day, my mother-in-law on the line, saying "Answer. Just answer. Did it answer? I was worried it didn't know how to answer." She understandably didn't laugh and I found myself explaining the humor, my phone not functioning and the comparison to Anna and Olaf. I think I got a pity chuckle but trust me, that knock-knock joke gets full guffaws in my living room when my husband uses it.
My daughters' favorite part may be the Elsa solo, "Let it Go," but it doubled as mine in the beginning of Grief too. It isolationist mantra, leaving a life behind and letting go of the past, it was such a tempting ideal. Truly, I think their love affair with it has more to do with the songstress' vocals and her flailing arms exaggerating her emotions. Mimicry being the purest form of flattery, there is not a one of them that doesn't break into dance and start throwing "snowflakes" to build an ice castle. Me, I just belt it, off key and all (sorry neighbors) and enjoy the feeling of putting feeling into song, flinging the day's difficulty into the air and feeling the crescendo rise in my heart, pushing away the vice of Grief.
Being a guy and all, you may think my husband doesn't go in for all that is pink and frilly and princessy. For the most part, that is the case. Some part of this plot must have struck a cord with him,though, as it did with me. I felt drawn in by Elsa, closing myself into my office, attempting to conceal and not feel, maintaining the outward persona as solid and silent. Maybe he identified more with the kid sister, needing attention and love and playful times to partner in life. I have heard him quoting this movie lately, in probably a joking manner, though I give him credit for saying it so movingly and convincingly that I wonder...He caught me in the kitchen after work, keeping to myself and loading the dishwasher. I turned away from a hello kiss, caught up in my own thoughts and not wanting to be taken out of my shell. A little smirk and serenade hit me off guard," Please don't shut me out again; please don't slam the door. You don't have to keep your distance anymore."
I blinked back, slightly befuddled. Like coming awake from a stupor, I shook my head and smirked back. Such a simple but loving reminder in that little ditty, I took it to heart perhaps more than he meant in that moment. It was a quiet plea with a polite please, and though not his words, in the parroting the sentiment rang true for us.
I daresay there will never be another movie quite like this, not one that captivates the entire family for months. Maybe it came at such a pivotal time. Would we have been as interested were we not frozen all winter in Grief? My girls might, what isn't there to love about princess sisters after all, but we 'grown ups'?
I imagine not. The sentiment would have been unnecessary, my husband making other jokes about my looking like warm death from sleepless nights of infant feeding. I would probably be such a different mother and wife, not desiring to draw into myself but buzzing about like a busy queen bee, glorying in the warmth of the sun and not wanting to freeze the summer.
At least we are all in agreement about our brand of entertainment. The truck DVD player has it on repeat, Pandora is perpetually cued to "Let It Go" radio, and I'm sure we are all humming the theme songs as we go about our business. It's working for now and for that, I'm a happy mama!
I answered the phone just the other day, my mother-in-law on the line, saying "Answer. Just answer. Did it answer? I was worried it didn't know how to answer." She understandably didn't laugh and I found myself explaining the humor, my phone not functioning and the comparison to Anna and Olaf. I think I got a pity chuckle but trust me, that knock-knock joke gets full guffaws in my living room when my husband uses it.
My daughters' favorite part may be the Elsa solo, "Let it Go," but it doubled as mine in the beginning of Grief too. It isolationist mantra, leaving a life behind and letting go of the past, it was such a tempting ideal. Truly, I think their love affair with it has more to do with the songstress' vocals and her flailing arms exaggerating her emotions. Mimicry being the purest form of flattery, there is not a one of them that doesn't break into dance and start throwing "snowflakes" to build an ice castle. Me, I just belt it, off key and all (sorry neighbors) and enjoy the feeling of putting feeling into song, flinging the day's difficulty into the air and feeling the crescendo rise in my heart, pushing away the vice of Grief.
Being a guy and all, you may think my husband doesn't go in for all that is pink and frilly and princessy. For the most part, that is the case. Some part of this plot must have struck a cord with him,though, as it did with me. I felt drawn in by Elsa, closing myself into my office, attempting to conceal and not feel, maintaining the outward persona as solid and silent. Maybe he identified more with the kid sister, needing attention and love and playful times to partner in life. I have heard him quoting this movie lately, in probably a joking manner, though I give him credit for saying it so movingly and convincingly that I wonder...He caught me in the kitchen after work, keeping to myself and loading the dishwasher. I turned away from a hello kiss, caught up in my own thoughts and not wanting to be taken out of my shell. A little smirk and serenade hit me off guard," Please don't shut me out again; please don't slam the door. You don't have to keep your distance anymore."
I blinked back, slightly befuddled. Like coming awake from a stupor, I shook my head and smirked back. Such a simple but loving reminder in that little ditty, I took it to heart perhaps more than he meant in that moment. It was a quiet plea with a polite please, and though not his words, in the parroting the sentiment rang true for us.
I daresay there will never be another movie quite like this, not one that captivates the entire family for months. Maybe it came at such a pivotal time. Would we have been as interested were we not frozen all winter in Grief? My girls might, what isn't there to love about princess sisters after all, but we 'grown ups'?
I imagine not. The sentiment would have been unnecessary, my husband making other jokes about my looking like warm death from sleepless nights of infant feeding. I would probably be such a different mother and wife, not desiring to draw into myself but buzzing about like a busy queen bee, glorying in the warmth of the sun and not wanting to freeze the summer.
At least we are all in agreement about our brand of entertainment. The truck DVD player has it on repeat, Pandora is perpetually cued to "Let It Go" radio, and I'm sure we are all humming the theme songs as we go about our business. It's working for now and for that, I'm a happy mama!
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