He Wants to Build a Snowman
It was bound to happen sometime. We’ve gladly, happily, been a Disney-princess-free household since Saoirse was born. Not forsaking the girls’ happiness, mind you–it’s not like we’ve gone all Cruella deVille and subjected the kids to an anti-princess rampage–but David and I’ve intentionally never encouraged the princess stuff, and luckily (for us–this is just how we feel, for our family. If you read Peggy Orenstein’s Cinderella Ate My Daughter, you’ll see why we get all quietly rage-y about it), the girls grew up playing with Lightning McQueen and Mater in their fairy costumes, and making up stories using their toy trains as “people.” And because of the girls’ total lack of interest in them, no doe-eyed princesses made an appearance into our little world, and for that we were…relieved.
And then Frozen happened. Frozen, with all it’s gotta-be-me messages, and sisterly love, and forget-you-I-don’t-need-no-man battle cry. Frozen happened, and my spring has turned into an eternal winter. The movie, the soundtrack, Anna and Elsa and Olaf–they’re all as part of my life as the endless piles of crumbs I sweep out from under the kitchen table each day, and just as hard to contain. It’s everywhere we look:
- “Let it Go,” being sung in a group on the carpet of the kindergarten classroom with a bunch of six-year-olds
- “For the First Time,” being belted out from the basement while tidying up the toys
- “Love is an Open Door,” sung while twirling around on the family room carpet, arms flung out wide, face raised to the ceiling
- Frozen, sung while staring out the car window at the passing trees
- Frozen, being proclaimed in the backyard to whomever in the neighborhood can hear
- “Let it Go,” again, stopping in the middle of the school’s Race for Education to sing, when the DJ played it over the loudspeakers
- “Let it Go,” of course again, being strummed on the guitar with full backing vocals
- Eager requests to watch the movie: “Can we watch it tonight? Is it time for Frozen? What about now?”
Dave’s really got to get it together. The girls are starting to get embarrassed.