Last night I went to see Alice in Wonderland in all its 3D glory. It’s not really my type of thing normally, but with the way life has been lately I really fancied some good old fashioned make believe. And I wasn’t disappointed – except for the ways in which I was. I wasn’t ready for so much dark… I suppose I should have known better, it’s not a light story. But then, the film isn’t the story anyway. (is it the story of Alice in the Looking Glass? I don’t remember now?) And it was brilliant. The actors, with the exception of Anne Hatheway who simply irritated me, were brilliant. And I love, love love the ‘sometimes I believe 6 impossible things before breakfast’…and was very happy that it was in there.
Make believe is so important. Dreaming is so important.
Yesterday eden & i went to see a friend and her little girl, who is the same age as eden. There were SO many battery operated toys. Now, I know I’m a leetle bit of a tyrant on the issue (so much less so in practice though!) but … eden sat down at this toy, which made him giggle uncontrollably… but then I noticed, the toy did not actually require him to do anything but press a button every 60 seconds. It played for him. I got a bit funny, turned it off and encouraged him to play with some other things.
Toys that do all the playing break my heart. Yes, I know that’s a melodramatic reaction to a silly plastic toy but it’s just so sad to me. I love that his favourite thing to do is chase his ball around the yard. And there is time for passive entertainment… but … I can’t even think of words to explain what I desperately want to express.
So i’ll stop my rant. I hear the rumblings of a 17 month old little boy and I think i’ll go play with him instead.