My Toy Story Experience: Metamorphasis from Child to Parent

Toy Story has spanned across the part of my life with the most dramatic changes. When the first movie came out with its breathtaking 3d animation and the ability to show things in a way that no traditionally animated movie ever could I was in fifth grade.

I was astounded by the visuals and it was great to experience the new technology but that still isn't what stole the show for me. The characters and the relationships were so much more real than in other family movies. Watching Toy Story was like being a child around an adult who still treats you like you are important and intelligent. I saw in Toy Story the joy of being a child. For me, it was the first movie that really resonated with both my mind and soul.

Then they came out with Toy Story 2. I was in ninth grade by then- maybe too old to be attending a Disney movie. But I saw that in the theaters as soon as it came out. And although I was completely expecting a disappointing sequel, I fell in love again. Toy Story 2 caught me at a point in my life when I was leaving childhood behind. The grace with which they showed childhood as beautiful but ephemeral and fleeting tugged at my heart strings. I found myself in a strange place. I was still hanging on to my childhood and the comforts represented by childhood toys but I was standing on the precipice of adulthood. I knew that I would be leaving behind the happiness that only a child can feel, the ability to create entire worlds with just my imagination and a few toys, and mostly the feeling of safety and contentment that children feel. The montage ending with Jessie being donated still stands out in my mind as one of the most moving moments in any movie. I ate up every second of that movie and have since come to love it even more than the original.

Now I have my own son who loves Woody and Buzz. The idea of passing the toys on to be loved by another generation of children really touched home for me. There I was sitting in the theater with my almost three year old son (at his very first movie) and we were both glued to the screen. Woody and Buzz literally had been passed down a generation in my family. My son was riveted. He sat up on edge when they were in peril. He laughed when were silly. He loved every second of it. And when it was time to say goodbye to Woody, Buzz, and all of their friends I saw not only my childhood which by this point is in the past but I saw the beauty of every moment of make believe that I have the privilege to share with my little boy. I saw the almost three years of my son's life that have already slipped by pass before my eyes. I suddenly found myself empathizing with Andy's mom and saw Woody and Buzz as metaphors of parenthood.

We get to share moments of complete joy and all encompassing love with our children but they grow up so quickly. We will always be important to them but it will never again be the same as the day that we held them on the day that they were born. Or the moment that they took their first step. The moments of make believe will be replaced and the firsts become more and more adult as they attend their first day of school, have their first love, and one day have kids of their own. The way that Toy Story 3 said goodbye to the characters that have literally been with me on my journey from child to parent was poignant, simply stated, and honestly perfect.

I am so glad that I was able to share Toy Story with my son. His first movie going experience was the best that it possibly could have been. It was magical- which is what Disney is all about. So goodbye Woody and Buzz, I have loved you and I will make sure that like Andy's toys I will enjoy the time that I have, soak up every minute that my son chooses to devote to me, and when the day comes that he too grows up I will make sure to be there for him... whenever he needs me.

Dylan with the toy Woody
that my mom bought me when
the first Toy Story movie
was released in 1995.

Patrick's Party!

Thanks everyone who was able to make it to the party! It was so much fun and I can't believe that our little guy is going to be a year old on Thursday!

The party was a blast! We had a carnival complete with moon bounce, popcorn, funnel cakes, balloon animals, and carnival games! What a fun day! Here are a few of the many (359 to be exact) photos. I know, I need help.


Photos are of-
Patrick's New Cozy Coupe from Mimi and Pappy, his gift from Mommy and Daddy, his new big boy seat from Mom Mom and Pop Pop and his balloon hat that Daddy made!

1. I was shocked and surprised to see so much negative reaction to Lost. Both by loyal Losties and people who thought we should be worried about more "worldly" issues.

2. I have found the simplest and best thing to cook. Uncle Ben's whole grain rice that you boil in the bag. Literally you just throw the entire bag in some boiling water.

3. I can't STAND it when people say "I seen that".

4. My son told me this week that he wants to change his name to Shake-o James Ben. I look forward to telling him that one day.

5. I can say the alphabet backwards. Probably faster than you can say it forwards ;)

6. Our tiny little baby has turned into a bottomless pit. He honestly eats more than I do.

7. If I could get rid of only one bug in the entire world without disrupting the ecosystem it would be ants. I know, you'd think misquitos right? But no- ants.

8. I stole this from Mama Days which led me to check out lowercase letters which I think is awesome! Hooray for finding new opinions and ideas to check out!

The Things We Leave Behind

I don't have a lot of physical reminders of my grandmother, but she died 7 years ago tomorrow and I've been thinking about her and a little bit about death in general. I have a few lighthouses here and there only one of which belonged to her and a picture on my night stand but sometimes a lot of time goes by without me consciously thinking of her.

I don't mean to suggest that she wasn't important to me or that I've forgotten her. I was thinking more about the unconscious thoughts of her. While I value the few things of hers that I may have it is the parts of myself that she helped to mold that mean the most. Every time I find myself playing a game I think of her. I am fairly certain that I inherited her love for all card and word games along with her competitive drive. If you knew my grandmother you knew that she took her games seriously. Very Very seriously. God help you if you got in the way of a game of Canasta or interrupted her while she was online playing Slingo. This included a love for game shows on tv which is why to this day I can't pass an episode of "Press Your Luck" without turning it on.

The first "grown up" or non cartoon movie that I can remember loving was 16 Candles. I watched it with my grandmother on VHS cuddled up in her bed. In fact when she moved I finally found my long lost blankie "woogie" (no need to comment on the fact that I named my baby blanket) under her bed surely left there after an afternoon watching movies or all the game shows that she has recorded that week. We had our very own personal game show network years before that channel was introduced. It is these seemingly unimportant things that I look back at most fondly now.

My grandmother was a lover of words and learning. I used to write short stories as a child and I remember always being excited to show them to her. She was very encouraging and spoke to me like an adult. I not only valued her opinion but loved sharing a special time with her. I try every day to emulate her in the way that I speak to my children. I want them to feel like I did around her: important, intelligent, significant.

I feel like there is a piece of her buried somewhere in everything I write. I feel her spirit every time I win a game of canasta. She made me feel special when we spent time together and although I may not think of her now as much as when she was still around she is as much a part of my life as ever if not more as I grow older.

It is in this contemplation that I have truly discovered for myself that it is not important what things you own or what you have to leave behind when you go. It is how you affect people, how you make people feel, that will carry on long after you are gone. So I hope that I too will encourage people in their passions. I hope that I will make someone feel important, smart, and loved. And today I will remember my grandmother for being all those things and more. I will take time today to thank her, not for the possessions that she left me but for the memories, the passion for learning, and the ability to kick your butt in any word game out there.

Little Boys and Little Girls

A little boy walks with purpose
From one thing to the next.
A little boy pretends to be
A Tyrannosaurus Rex.

A little boy lives in his imagination
Where all is pure and good.
A little boy is all about doing.
There's no should or would or could.

A grown up questions everything,
Each choice a labored one.
A grown up forgets how to pretend
And skip and jump and run.

A little girl knows that she is beautiful
In her sparkly jewels and regal crown.
A little girl knows only how to lift you up
Not how to put you down.

A little girl tells a story of what a person is.
There is no fixation on what they say or what they own.
A little girl believes in love and truth
And that she can be anything when she is grown.

A grown up has forgotten
The promises of youth.
A grown up lives in fiction
While the children live in truth.

As grown ups we must try our best
To remember the important stuff.
For we once were those little boys and girls
Before life got so tough.

We should take time every day
To believe that the world is good.
We should spend our days doing
So that we know we could.

We should see people for what they are
Instead of for their possessions.
We should believe that we are beautiful
And not defined by our professions.

We should take a lesson
From those little girls and boys.
And make our lives into music
Instead of just white noise.

Children have beliefs and purpose
While some adults just drift astray.
We must hold onto childlike dreams
Before we float away.

So today I urge you- grown up,
To take a minute to pretend,
Believe that you are beautiful,
See a beginning and not an end.

It's all a matter of our perspective.
When we are small we look up toward the sun.
So all that I ask of you today is to stop,
Look up, and remember that life should be fun.

To Be A Mom

Looking in through the window glass
My life seems simple and unimportant.
And if you look into my past
You won't see much of anything.

I do not work a "9 to 5".
My bank account is far from big.
But I'm happy just to be alive
And watch two beautiful children grow.

It is in their faces that I see my worth
And in their eyes that I understand God.
My definition of importance changed at the birth
Of the two boys who now define my life.

Some may think it sad
That I define myself by them.
But it is the most important job that was ever had
Just to be a mom.

Paperless Society?

This post may not be entirely eco-friendly of me. It might not seem tech savvy. It may seem a bit hypocritical, the electronic glow of the computer screen the only light as I sit here typing this at 3 a.m. But since finishing a book tonight I have not been able to get these thoughts from my head and so I submit them to you.

I look at the new e-readers and cell phone applications designed to put thousands of books immediately at your fingertips and instead of the excitement that some feel I can't help but feel a bit sad. There is a comfort in picking up a book. The weight of the book matches the expectations for what you may find between its covers. The heft can seem a bit daunting upon beginning but after finishing it feels like a badge of accomplishment. A new book with a pristine spine is like a new acquaintance, opening to you slowly and requiring some effort. But a book that has been well loved, read and re-read over the years will show you all the familiarity of an old friend. And whether it be the quick turn of a page from a reader dying to resolve their curiosity, the languid turn of a bored student flipping through a text book, or the heavy handed thunk of a toddler turning the thick pages of a picture book there is simple joy to be found in the feel of those pages between your fingers.

While I am not often moved to tears by movies, I am a sucker for a sad book. In this there is something else that an electronic version of a book or poem will never have. There is something almost poetic about teardrops on the page of a book, concrete evidence that something written on those pages has touched you as you touched those pages.

There are also certain sounds that come with reading. The sounds of the turning pages of different books are as varied as the voices of different people. The crackling of the spine of a book is like cracking knuckles. I enjoy a lot of sounds. I love music and the sound of rain coming down on the roof. I love the contented sighs of a sleeping baby. I actually like the creaking of an old wood floor. I love laughter and the sound of cards shuffling and the early morning sounds of the beach. But I can't think of anything more personally satisfying than the soft thud of closing the back cover of the book that you have just finished. And I find that the more books I read, the more chapters I take in, the more lines I ingest, the more words I devour- the more I cherish that sound.

It seems however that we have entered a digital age. People are beginning to prefer digital photo albums and digital picture frames, electronic copies of books and magazines, and doing crossword puzzles online. But I hope to one day write a book. I don't know what it will be about. I don't know when I will write it. But I can tell you this;

I hope that one day if I ever do write a book it will touch people's imaginations, their hearts, and also their hands.