So I've been watching Tangled with the kids. And now that I've seen it three times, I have questions.

The first one is, if cutting Rapunzel's magic hair undoes all the healing she's performed with it (as evidenced by Mother's turning to dust after it is cut), then why doesn't Flynn's hand injury come back?

The second is, was the magic tear that heals Flynn a one-time thing, or does Rapunzel now have magic tears? If she DOES have magic tears, how could she live happily ever after? I would think having magic healing tears would be a tough burden; so many injured and dying people to heal and yet she has to weep for all of them to heal them? And if she takes a break from her weeping, and tries to have a little fun, she has to feel guilty, because she has to think of all the people she is now not healing.

And yes, I know, as people have been telling me my whole life, I have "thought WAY too much about this." What can I say? Born with it!

Watching Back to the Future on the big screen for the FIRST TIME was amazing! I was only seven when the movie premiered- and although I watched it hundreds of times in subsequent years and saw the sequels in theaters, I have never seen the movie so clearly, and in such detail.

It really is a great story, and meticulously told.

Kyle bought the blu-ray disc and we watched some of the special features last night. One of the documentaries has Robert Zemeckis and Bob Gale talking about the painstaking process of writing the script- they talk about how they laid the story out on index cards and how for every idea they came up with (for example, "Marty invents the skateboard"), they had to then create another scene ("show that Marty can skateboard") which plants the seed for the audience and pays off later in the movie.

It took them five months to finish the script, and it's easy to see why it took them so long. It's because the script is so well written! Every idea is fully fleshed out, every character is true. Every idea comes to fruition, there are no wasted, pointless scenes and random dead ends, like so many movies.

And like every great comedy, there are no "jokes," per se. What I mean by that is that the humor comes from the characters and the situation that they're in, and so it comes from a place of truth. When Marty realizes that he's sitting next to his own teenaged father at the cafe, his bug-eyed reaction is funny because, well, who WOULDN'T react that way on seeing their own father at their age? We can all put ourselves into that situation, we can all relate- and so the humor comes from that connection with every audience member- a moment of truth. And Marty's discomfort when his own mother is trying to make out with him before the dance is so entertaining- it's so fun to watch him squirm and Michael J. Fox plays the moment brilliantly for laughs, but the laughs come from our understanding of the characters and from the situation, not from (as is so common in movies nowadays) a pop culture reference, a mocking nod to another film, or a clever put-down.

The closest thing in Back to the Future to those kinds of cheap laughs would perhaps be the "Ronald Reagan is president" bit, and all the jokes about Marty's "life preserver" - (his orange 80's style vest). But since Ronald Reagan really WAS president in the 80's and WAS formerly an actor- even the more "jokey" jokes (what I mean by that is jokes that aren't character-driven) contain truth.

I just don't see that in a lot of comedies nowadays. It seems to me like most comedies today rely on the audience's understanding of pop culture more than their understanding of human nature.

Back to the Future also sets itself up in a totally natural way- laying out the characters and letting the story unfold without any obvious exposition. Anyone who has heard me talk about movies knows that my pet peeve is obvious exposition.

For those of you that aren't English teachers, exposition is a natural part of any story, when details that are important to the story are shown or explained. These are the details you NEED to know for the rest of the story to make sense. EVERY movie contains exposition- some just do it better than others.

My favorite example of GOOD exposition is in the movie Steel Magnolias. What we need to know to set up the rest of the movie is that two of the characters, neighbors, have a long-standing feud. Now, a BAD MOVIE, using OBVIOUS EXPOSITION would have another character say something like "Oh, Drum and Ouisa. Those two are ALWAYS fighting!" Instead, the scriptwriter gives us the information brilliantly with this conversation:

OUISA: "Get those magnolias out of my tree!"
DRUM: "The judge has not yet decided whose tree that is, exactly."

Perfect exposition. We know everything we need to know. Drum and Ouisa are at odds. Their enmity goes back a long way- they will even argue over something as stupid as whose property a neighborhood tree is growing on.

Back to the Future is a great example of good exposition, because it holds to the old saying "show, don't tell." And that is difficult, because Back to the Future needs to give us a LOT of information before Marty can go back in time. We need to know about the relationships between George and Lorraine McFly (including how they met, their first kiss, etc.), George McFly and Biff, Mr. Strickland and the McFly family, Doc and Marty, Doc and the rest of town (they think he's a lunatic), and it also needs to set up that Marty can skateboard, play guitar, charm women, and that he's following in the footsteps of his own father by being fearful and cowardly about putting himself out there as a musician. Not to mention the whole history of the clock tower, the lightning strike, etc.

When you think about it, what a DAUNTING task for a writer, and yet the screenwriters manage to make it all seem effortless and organic, each piece of information coming onscreen naturally for us to absorb, understand and process. The woman from the Hill Valley preservation society tells us about the clock tower and the famous lightning storm while teenaged Marty, true to character, is just macking on his girlfriend (in other words, no dumb scene where Marty happens to wander into the Preservation Society in a totally out-of-character moment). The wrecked car gives Biff both a reason to be at the McFly home so we can meet him and highlights what a jerk he is. Linda's boy trouble gives Lorraine a reason to tell her daughter the details of her and George's first meeting, their first dance and first kiss, and the fact that she pours herself a Vodka in the meantime shows us how unhappy Lorraine now is with her husband. And the opening scenes of the film, set in Doc's workshop, tell us all about his eccentricities and his genius before he even gets a moment of screen time.

When you think about it, it's no wonder it took them 5 months to write the script! I mean, wow! But BOY does it make a difference. I wish more writers in Hollywood understood that. To me, the only movie studio of late that really understands good storytelling is Pixar.

Anyone seen a really well-written movie lately that wasn't from them? I can't think of any. I think the last one I really really liked as far as an original story with great writing, and truly character-driven humor- was the first Pirates of the Caribbean. To me that was perfect storytelling.

Everything else that good has been a Pixar kids movie! It's sad that filmmakers take more time crafting a great story for children while supposedly more intelligent adults get fare like The Love Guru. Hey, Hollywood, grown-ups like good comedies, too! Just because you're not making Schindler's List doesn't mean you need to fall back on R-rated humor and making fun of other movies (although I guess it's working out for the Wayans brothers, who've made an entire career of it).

The Way I Was

No one wants to be alone on a sunny day, but what is it about a cool, cloudy fall day that goes so well with absolute silence?

For the first time in what seems like many years, I am alone on such a day, enjoying my brain. My brain is ordinarily on loan to three monkey-sized tyrants and filled with their thoughts, requests and random gibberish. Sometimes, when I am trying to write an email or even make sense of conversation with another adult, I have to actually tell them that I NEED MY BRAIN FOR A FEW MINUTES.

So it's nice to have it to myself today. The sudden feeling of independence made a pleasant memory bubble up in my mind; the memory of moving into my first apartment.

It was a dump of a one bedroom about half a mile or so from the campus of Illinois State, where I was a then a junior. My rent was $360 a month and that included furniture and utilities (wow!).

For the first time in my life, I was living without my family, without a roommate, with no one in the world whose opinion to consult but ME.

I remember walking to Jewel-Osco on a cool cloudy day and buying a broom, a mop, cleaning products, eggs, soup, milk. I remember thinking that $50 was a lot for groceries (ha!). I remember putting everything away in my apartment- broom in the broom closet, milk in the fridge and thinking how empty the giant fridge looked with my groceries for one- how big the broom closet seemed with my broom and cans of Campell's Chicken'n'Stars.

I know this probably makes me selfish, but oddly enough I remember it as one of the best days of my life.

I Want to Be a Nurse

No, not literally. I don't want to be a nurse. I actually kind of get woozy when I think about blood draws.

But I was talking to my friend Amy, who had just watched her sister Emily give birth (to a gorgeous little girl, by the way). She was talking about how Emily was in labor for SO long that the doctors wanted to give her a C-section, but the nurse just kept pushing Emily to keep going, not give up, and deliver the baby naturally (which she did!). Amy said something that really stuck in my head- she said - "You know, the doctors didn't really do anything except breeze in every now and then and check on her progress. It was the nurses who were there through all the pain, putting up with Emily when she was upset, coaxing her, pushing her, encouraging her. The doctors just came in to see if they could do anything, and when they couldn't they just left."

And something about it struck me, because I so often have the doctor mentality, especially with my children. How often when they complain to me ("my finger hurts!" "my toe hurts!" etc.) do I actually answer with the phrase, "What do you want me to do? Do you want a band-aid?" And if they say no, I shrug my shoulders and move on, when what they really want is a nurse to sympathize and encourage, to practice compassion, and FEEL WITH them.

I've posted about this before, in my note about compassion because it is such a glaring weakness in my character. I want to go straight to the fix so I don't have to put up with any whining- I don't want to deal with pain, and suffering and hard times.

And yet, I want great relationships! And great relationships are usually forged between NURSE and patient, not doctor and patient because who is there when times get tough and the pain becomes unbearable? The NURSE.

So... I want to be a nurse. I need help. Pray for me!

The Chicken or the Egg?

Is it just me or does every women's magazine from Parents and Family Circle to Marie Claire and Cosmopolitan feature the same articles over and over again?

They all fall into 8 basic categories.

1. The Five Minute Health or Beauty Tips. This is the part of the magazine that shares such valuable nuggets as: "Don't have time to work out? Lug out that vacuum and give your carpets a good cleaning! It could work off up to 100 calories and as a bonus, your house will be clean!" Also, "We all want to take care of our skin, but who has time? Our experts give you the 5 MUSTS for healthy skin!" (article will then proceed to detail a nightly skincare routine that takes $50 worth of creams and 30 minutes a night).

2. Recipes. They will all be some variation on chicken and pasta with an added ethnic spice ("Spicy Saffron Rice Bowl!")or some type of disgusting looking mini-pizza ("You can't get much simpler than an English muffin with Spaghetti-O's and spinach! Your kids will beg for seconds on these fun (and healthy!) little pizzas!")

3. Kids Say the Darndest Things/Revolting and Humiliating Tales. In mommy magazines like Parents and Women's Day, it's the former. You know, "My Aunt Linda came over for Thanksgiving dinner and my four year old son, Java (always an ambiguous or feminine name for a boy) said "Mommy, why can't I put my teeth in a glass of water by my bed like Aunt Linda?" In the young women's magazines, it's the Revolting and Humiliating Tales, which I won't even put an example of because most of them are gross and involve people getting their period on things.

4. Household Organization. This section is all about stating the obvious. "Cut the clutter! Go through your closets, cabinets and garage. Take everything you don't need out for an impromptu yard sale! You'll clean your house and maybe even make enough to take your family out to dinner!" And often it includes the sneak sales pitch, "Stow your stuff! These colorful bins, $24 at The Great Indoors, are big enough to hold Johnny's soccer cleats AND class science project, plus they add sophistication and fun to your entryway!"

5. The Sob Story Article. This is the closest thing in a women's magazine to real journalism. Usually, this is a good, in-depth article that tells a story we often have already heard on CNN or read about in a paper or heard from a friend of a friend, but at least it's well-written and touching. For the mommy mags, autism, SIDS, dealing with divorce are classic topics. For the young women's mags, anorexia, alcoholism, and abusive relationships are common.

6. The More Light-hearted But Still Serious Article. As the holidays approach, the More Light-hearted But Still Serious Article will be Holiday themed- how to have a "simpler" holiday, avoid excessive materialism and credit card debt, and get along with relatives always works at this time of year. The rest of the year it will be articles on playdates, birthday parties, politeness, safety and enjoying motherhood for the mommy mags, blind dates, being single, being in a couple, weekend getaways for the YM's.

7. Sex. In the young women's magazines, this section is far more extensive, and gives plenty of quotes from 'real' men about what they REALLY want in bed, and what they think is attractive in a woman. In the mommy magazines, the poor men only get a page or two and the tone of them is a complete downer- "We know you don't feel attractive after nursing a newborn all night, but experts say sex will bring you and your spouse closer!" or "Take 5 minutes for sex!" - as if sex in any form would be a miracle.

8. Crafts That You Will Not Do. Halloween costumes you will not sew, cupcakes you will not bake, candlesticks you will not cover in glittery pipe cleaners, no matter how cool it looks in the picture. 'Nuff said.

Each magazine has between a year and two year's worth of material in each of the 8 Basic Categories, which are rotated and recycled over and over again, so that by the time you have subscribed to any of them for about 18 months, you already feel like you pretty much "get" everything any of them has to say.

That being said, I continue to read them. I usually flip right to the Household Organization category, as if simply by reading a couple of tips on how to organize that are more commonsense than anything else my house will suddenly be clean and organized. I sob over the Sob Story Articles. I sometimes even buy the materials for the Crafts I Will Not Do, even though I know I will not do them.

I can't figure out if it's because that's what they print, or if they print what I secretly want to read... I guess that's a chicken and egg question, like that of the Paparazzi. Are they worse for taking those pictures or are we worse for gawking at them? (I'll admit I wanted to read about ANGELINA'S LIES today while I was in line at Ralph's...)

Wild Things

Went to see Where the Wild Things Are with Kyle and the boys. I'm honestly not sure how I feel about it.

There were some beautiful moments in this film, though NONE of them included the Wild Things- they were all just lovely moments of truth from Max's point of view, that brought back to me all the passions and heartaches of being a kid. Max, crying because his sister's friends broke his igloo, Max destroying his sister's room because he is so angry about it, Max lying under his mom's desk, looking lovingly at her face at an odd angle, pulling gently on the toe of her pantyhose to get her attention (that last one was so beautifully shot and so honest it made me cry).

But when he finally gets to Where the Wild Things Are, the movie just disintegrates. Some of the Wild Things have personalities that reflect aspects of Max's own (or of people in Max's life). One of them, called "KW" obviously represents Max's sister Claire and his feelings about her growing up. She goes off and talks to "Bob" and "Teri" (a couple of owls who everyone seems to understand except for Max and Carol; Carol is the angry monster who exemplifies Max at his wildest and angriest), leaving her old playmates who long to have her back. Bob and Teri are standing in for his sister's friends, who Max can't understand.

But KW is the only Wild Thing who is even remotely likeable. The other Wild Things are so obnoxious and self-centered. They fight, and argue, snap at each other and expect Max to fix all of their problems for them, and when he doesn't, they threaten to eat him! Living with them looks like a horrible nightmare!

To top it off, they live in a bland, colorless world that reminds me more of something from Cormac McCarthy's post-apocalyptic The Road than of someplace a wild young boy would dream of going.

Where is the color, joy, and magic of childhood? The most fun thing the beasts do in this movie is have a dirt clod war, and everyone in it ends up squabbling and angry anyhow.

I just don't get it. Why would anyone imagine this? If they did, why wouldn't they want to wake themselves up as soon as possible?

I always thought the book was about a young boy's quest for self-control, his need to tame the Wild Things inside of him so that he can function in the world, and that the beasts represented his own wild side- his becoming their King representing his mastery of his own emotions.

And I guess the movie did present the story in that way. However, it made the journey from out-of-control young boy to emotionally mature young boy look dark, disturbing and fraught with danger.

To me, acquiring self-control is an act of great courage that leads to great reward! How interesting it would have been if the movie focused more on Max's efforts to control the beasts within rather than what happens once they make him their King (which happens right away with no struggle).

What if he had to trick each beast, trap it, train it, bend it to his will, each one symbolizing a struggle in his life? Wouldn't that have made a much more interesting movie, and one much more true to the theme of the story?

As it was, I just didn't see the point of anything that was happening. Granted, seeing Wild Thing Carol and his uncontrollable anger helps Max to understand how destructive his own behavior is. But other than Carol and KW, the other characters were superfluous, though I love Catherine O'Hara, so I enjoyed her performance as Judith, because she is amazing in everything she does!

I also would not recommend seeing this with your kids. There is nothing bad in it (except bratty behavior from Max), but after an hour of obscure psychobabble amongst colorless creatures that seems to go nowhere, my kids were restless. Once the popcorn ran out, they all wanted to go home.

Compassion

When Jesus heard what had happened (John the Baptist was killed), he withdrew by boat privately to a solitary place. Hearing of this, the crowds followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them and healed their sick.

- Matthew 14:13-14 NIV


As a mother, no passage of the Bible is more convicting to me than this very simple story of Jesus's compassionate heart.

Yes, we all know that Jesus was an amazing teacher, healer and friend to the persistent crowds who followed him wherever he went, some loving him truly, others just hoping to witness a miracle.

Some people just take this story as they find it, and say to themselves, "Well, yeah- he was the Son of God! That's what he ought to have been doing, and more besides!"

But keeping in mind that Jesus was also a human being, look at the circumstances of Jesus's compassion.

His great friend, the one who baptized him, has just been beheaded for the entertainment of Herod's dinner guests. Not only is Jesus sad for his friend, but he probably could see in this sordid tale an echo of his own future suffering. He knew the road he was going to walk, and I can't imagine this event not bringing the reality of his own death to mind, the way the death of a friend pulls the ground out from under you or I, revealing that our own hold on life is tenuous at best.

I'm sure Jesus wanted to be alone to mourn his friend, and probably to have some quiet prayer time to receive comfort from God. He withdraws PRIVATELY to a SOLITARY place. He expects to land his boat and maybe have a quiet nature walk. To hear only silence echoing in his eardrums- no needs to meet, no hurting people demanding his time, no critiques or questions from disciples or Pharisees. This is certainly what I would have wanted, and as Jesus was a man, I'm sure it's what he wanted too.

Can you imagine landing your boat under those circumstances and seeing a mob of people waiting to throng you with their endless, endless needs? Heal me! Teach me! Help me!

I think I would have crumbled and wanted to die. That's how I feel sometimes when Kyle is out of town, especially if one of the kids is sick or if I have an especially busy week with a number of places to run.

I've always desperately needed alone time to rejuvenate myself. I love to read quietly, sit quietly, and let my thoughts meander without interruption.

I think that's why motherhood was so rough for me the first couple of years. I just could not get used to never being alone, never NOT having a need to meet. Endless, endless days- changing diapers, wiping snot, giving baths, comforting, soothing, crying myself to sleep because I was so tired I couldn't sleep (the irony!). And now that there's less of those physical needs, there's more mental and emotional needs to meet.

I feel that my brain is co-opted by three ceaseless little tyrants- "Mom. What did you do with my McDonald's coupon. Mom. When can we use my McDonald's coupon? Mom. Why don't we ever go to McDonald's? Mom. Mrs. Summers says it's time to put the Halloween decorations up. Mom, can we put them up? Mom, can I have a snack? (Right now behind me is Owen reading the Pop Tarts box- "Mom, can we order a Pop Tart shirt? All I want is that shirt. That one right there. Look at it.") Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom! Make a decision! Make it now! And know that whatever you say, however abstracted your brain is, we will try to hold you to it with the tyrannical words "BUT YOU SAID...".

(This problem actually led me to ban the words "you said" from my house last year; I told them the only thing that matters is obeying Mommy RIGHT NOW. I'm not sure if that was exactly the right way to handle it.)

I just can't imagine having patience for the multitudes like Jesus did. I can't even deal with three little children without a break!

And yet, much in need of a solace, hoping for a little "me" time- Jesus lands, sees the crowds, and HAS COMPASSION on them and heals their sick!

How did he do it? There's really no answer except that he relied on God utterly, and never pulled back his heart. No matter how tired he was, his heart could still go out to hurting people; he never withdrew into himself and pitied himself as I so often do. He totally exemplified the grace of compassion; the act of feeling with others.

For me, compassion rarely springs of its own accord, but needs to be cultivated. It's just not a natural part of my nature. I am a more logical person, and I've noticed that for passionate, emotional people- compassion flows more naturally.

A few of them, I like to watch and learn from; my cousin Stephanie, my friend Mike. They are natural "feelers" and as such, never lack empathy and always have time for friends who are in need. I noticed that even back in high school, everyone felt that Mike was their best friend. I used to wonder what it was about him that endeared him to everyone, regardless of peer group or status, and now that I am a Christian, I realize that the same thing that draws people to Mike is what drew people to Jesus; true and deep compassion for others.

I truly desire this for my own heart, and fervently believe that it isn't good enough to simply say "I'm not that type of person" and leave it at that. Just because I have to work hard to be compassionate doesn't mean I am off the hook. When the kids are crying and need me, and I am emotionally worn out, wanting to just wall myself into a cone of silence and retreat, is it okay to do that? Are my kids going to stop needing just because I want to stop giving? Of course not!

And I know that God is with me in each baby step I take toward feeling with my kids, experiencing with them each scrape, bruise, or welling feeling of injustice, and not brushing them off with my usual "Well, you shouldn't have been running in the house!" or "Well, life's not fair!"

Not that I'm saying my kids are never in the wrong. Of course there's a time to check whining and complaining, a time to review the house rules (no running), a time to teach the valuable and true lesson that life isn't fair. But I know all these lessons mean so much more coming from a warm and compassionate woman who loves them like crazy than from a mom who turns her back on them when they are in need because she just "can't deal with it right now!"

However, knowing that is one thing; doing it in the heat of the moment, when I am tired, cranky, and overwhelmed is quite another. That's when I need God and I need prayer.