Sunday, June 24, 2012

Awkward Mom and Princesses

Costumes count, but they never conform.

So, I am sitting here, watching Super Preschooler play princesses. Princesses is a favorite game of the under 4 set, and it raises its tiara-laded head again around age 14, although the dresses seem to get shorter for some reason. Anywho, I digress. My real reason for telling you about this is to point out how versatile "playing princesses" can be. If I close my eyes, I can see a castle full of them.

Marvelous Preschooler flounces nearby in a dainty flutter of satin and sequins that stands in stark contrast to the screaming orders she flings to her minions. That her minions are imaginary, some passing ants, or her friends, who are actively ignoring her, bothers Marvelous Princess not a wit. Princesses are above such things. Her dresses are plentiful and tend to change at a rapid rate, leaving one to wonder if Marvelous Princess has her very own fairy Godmother, poofing like a Mad Hatter, hiding behind that tree. Her feet, wrists, and hair are all bejeweled and it hurts a little to look directly at her, which is as it should be. At least, according to Marvelous Princess.

Excellent Preschooler dances by in a blur of color and song. Because her mother has an eye for these things, Excellent Princess could be wearing a dress-up dress or her own dress, one can't quite tell. The elegance is just always there, swirling out from her in perpetual dance. Her sweetness creates a cloud around her, and yes, it totally smells like strawberries. I keep looking behind her for 7 dwarfs, a parade of woodland creatures, and the entire Disney storyboarding team, but they are probably really good at hiding. She is belting something from the Lion King to the 2 giraffes she is rocking to sleep, and her curls are swaying to the music, covering her "babies" in a gentle cocoon of fiery red hair.

Awesome Preschooler buzzes by on a mission of extreme importance, 18 toys piled into a basket draped over her arm. She is wonderfully careless to her tulle and lace and doesn't seem to notice her hem trailing into the mud. Awesome Princess has other stuff on her mind; she has friends to help. She shouts hello to the passing birds, boosts her friend up a slide, sings a ditty to a neighbor dog, and hurries off on another mission of mercy, re-skinning her knee in the process. Awesome Princess is no idle beauty. That she is a beauty is apparent in endless eyes and the thickest, shiniest hair ever, but she is not sitting in front of any mirror. No, Awesome Princess is on the move, and her many bruises and scraps will tell you just how much she loves her friends.

Super Preschooler is looking for crowns. Not for himself, mind you. His is sitting on his head already, jauntily jutting to the left. No, Super Preschooler is hunting for his fellow princesses. Crowns. Crowns. He repeats it like a spell, pushing up the tattered sleeves of his light blue dress-up dress to demonstrate that he means business. The poor thing looks so much like Cinderella (pre-ball) that I want to cry. But he claims the ratty old dress I bought for 2 bucks at that church rummage sale is "gorgeous." His quiet confidence totally pulls it off, even the trailing ribbon that the cat is chasing.

Princesses are always in a dress. Super Preschooler is very insistent on this rule. (He also has very particular thoughts on crowns, clearly.) But Princess Preschooler could give a fig what your dress looks like; brand-new, Disney-sanctioned, Grandmother-sewn, your everyday dress, school dress, church dress, Daddy's shirt, an artfully draped drape, or barely-held-together rags. He is down with whatever you want to wear, as long as you let him find you a crown. And maybe some bracelets. A ring or 2. Some pretty necklace....

Princesses (according to Disney) are beautiful, resourceful, and generous. They are curious, good, and forgiving. They are kind to animals. They like shiny things. They aren't afraid of a little danger. They are covert superheros, hiding behind a frothy confection of silk and sugar; don't underestimate them. Once properly accessorized , they are ready for all the adventure any crabby old witch (or mommy) can concoct.

What's that? Oh, you thought Awkward Mom was going to be offline until next week. Well, I can understand that, given that she told you just that. Well, the move went very well (that post is coming) and they discovered that the current cable feed will be turned off the day that their cable is turned on. So, they are stealing it. Yes, well, let's not linger on that fact and just enjoy that fact that Awkward Mom is blogging once again!

Oh my. Just what happened at this ball of yours, Super Preschooler?


  1. Where's the "like" button? You go, Super P! Find those crowns! I'm trying to enjoy every minute of Katie's toddlerhood, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to the Princess phase. :)
    Super P looks like he took a bite of a magical apple...but I guess that's the wrong fairy tale.

    1. Oh, he is pretty firm on his stories too. I was calling this picture "Sleeping Beauty," until he informed me that "her dress was pink, mom."

      The princess phase is really fun, I have to admit.... :)

  2. Wanna blow Super P's mind? Tell him that Flora and Merryweather were fighting over Aurora's dress again, but this time Merryweather won. :)

    1. Mind offically blown. He loves the idea! :)