Here it is,
over a moving table of sparkling,
At least, this is the way I tend to view
the rapture of everything-ruffles, Disney-don’t even-show-her-Barbies-please-no
towards my three year old girl
now very very interested in, acting out princesses,
shopping for fancy dresses,
earnestly wanting that set with the two pairs of heels.
Just stop there.
Her little growing strong back potentially compromised by heels?
Sometimes it seems a threat,
these princesses finding our house,
wanting to come in.
First it’s a friendly knock,
they ding-dong, ping-pong,
to play with my girl.
This is the input that makes her
wanna be glamorous everyday,
she wants to put on makeup,
a pretty, little, gorgeous thing.
Can you tell
I’ve been a bit tense about it?
Those Disney girls pushing catalogs for
the same costumes everybody wears, made in great giant batches of pink
for millions of girls,
which prompt them to ask, “Am I pretty?”
Then, “Pretty enough?”
This is the sugar-plum hair net
which shapes their thoughts
and culls their own creativity, perhaps–
to potentially stifle
the idea that she can imagine a different Cinderella dress–
that it doesn’t necessarily have to be light blue with puffy sleeves,
the lovely understanding
that women come resplendent in many many
ways, shapes, legs, tummies
not simply Disney’s or “the highway”.
Now there are
new mentions at ladies’ weight and haircolor.
Now she notices overeating and thinks about, points out
She says if she eats too much she will get a tummy ache;
but one time she switched “tummy ache” for “FAT”.
Raising a little hun,
praising her heart and mind and body
while balancing princesses
and the story, her own story of creation
a lithe, excited three year old, chanting
praise to God…
for making her a princess…
And then there’s the possibility that humility
can be zapped.
The good, real stuff snatched.
A three year old wanting to be twenty-two
I’ve been trying to avoid
turns out princesses are quite nice
and this one
even wore her earrings, crown, light-up amethyst necklace to build.
Not pour over a mirror,
not act-out a commercial,
So I think, perhaps,
her luminescent glass slipper may still be
on solid ground,