CANOPY BED (A-Z April Blog Challenge)

A pretty close rendition to the real thing, sans yellow gingham

Eleven years old found me light years away from feeling like a princess.  I was too tall, too awkward and close to 15 pounds too heavy.  I was not involved in any sports, there were no dance/ballet classes ~ I was shy, a voracious reader and a beginning closeted writer.  Friends were not a big part of my life.    

Then one day, I came home from school and my sister Brooke, seven years my senior, and fresh into her new job as an LPN, presented me with my own little piece of the fantasy, frilly girl, princess life I dreamed of.

We went to my bedroom and there stood a beautiful canopy bed.  So delicate. So beautiful.  So light. White curved posts decorated with gold trim at the carved knobs supported the curved framework above the bed where the yellow gingham canopy rested.  Between the matching head and footboards lay the matching yellow gingham bedspread and dust ruffle.  By far, the most exquisite piece of furniture (hadn’t even dreamed of for myself, and here it was) I’d ever seen.  Made me feel like a princess. Delicate. Special. Light.

For years I lay under that canopy.  I wrote. I read. I daydreamed.  I transported myself to a different life where I was … delicate. Special. Light.

Today my house décor has no frills. There is no outward trace of fantasy or princesses.  I’m still shy and awkward on some levels and I still carry those extra 15 pounds.  Friends, well, I’m fortunate to have a few.  And I read. And I write.  And I’m a mom. And I’m a wife. 

And my husband, well he makes me feel like a princess. Our life is the canopy above me.  But it’s more than that.  It’s my whole life.  There’s a foundation to me now ~ to how I feel about myself.  It’s built up over time. One layer, one proof of faith, one proven moment after another.  Obstacles overcome. Goals met.

Our house may not have any frills of my canopy bed.  No ruffles.  No gold gilded framework.  But it carries the framework of something better for me.  My canopy now carries the simple, classic, uncluttered lines of a good, honest life.  Thanks to my sister Brooke for the dream that became my reality.  I am one lucky woman. 

BARBIE (A-Z April Blog Challenge)



Photo credit:
http://www.fashion-doll-guide.com/
Vintage-Barbie-Extravaganza.html



Looking back, the penchant I had for biting off the fingers and toes of every Barbie doll I owned was a strong sign.  Of what, I don’t know, but I’m sure it wasn’t good.  What I do know is that Barbie never wore a swimsuit or a pair of short shorts and a tank top.  I mean, really… without any fingers or toes, she just didn’t have “the look” any more.  I was all about putting her in the long sleeved gloves that reached past her elbows, or little white ones with frilly cuffs.  She wore boots or heels – never sandals.  

Barbie lived a simple life and wasn’t surrounded by all her store bought hype and perfection.  There was no fancy pink car, no motor home, no mansion.  She rode around town in a cut out toothpaste box.  Her house was tastefully decorated with the Sears & Roebuck catalog as her bed which sported one of my dad’s hankies draped over it as her bedspread.  Her living room furniture was a variety of deodorant can tops for chairs, and other household items that worked for couches and end tables.  The rugs were easily changed out with whatever color washcloth I had on hand.  Pencils marked walls, hallways and doors.   

I never felt lacking that I didn’t have the fancy extras - it was all part of just playing Barbie and letting my imagination take over.  And it was great.  Many years before, Nana Wood, the grandmother I never knew, sewed beautiful custom outfits for the Barbies my older sisters played with.  Those clothes and the Barbies got handed down to me.  So mine was a real dichotomy, dressed to the nines with no fingers or toes, entertaining in her pencil lined living room as her guests sat on rolled up socks for bean bag chairs. 

So about those missing fingers and toes……………

1994 was a tough year for me.  I lost about 70 pounds, got down to a weight lower than I ever remembered being in my life and permed the hell out of my long, blonde, fine, bone straight hair.   It was my outward manifestation of working on some intensely personal and emotional issues.  And to hide what was going on inside, I made myself look totally unlike me on the outside.  I looked like Barbie. (Absolutely unattainable figure measurements not withstanding – let’s be real, NO ONE can look like Barbie in THAT way!)

For Christmas that year, my sister gave me a sweatshirt, meant in the most loving way, that I cherished.  It read:  I want to be just like Barbie.  That bitch has everything.  

Well, everything except her fingers and toes I guess. I’d purposefully ruined her perfection.  I’d carried Barbie’s dichotomy with me all those years, always projecting one person on the outside while another, different me, was hidden underneath. Over time, just like with my Barbie, I covered my flaws and scars.    

Since ’94, I’ve done my best to become more honest with myself.  To search out those flaws and scars, resolve or accept them and find a sense of peace.    

In Barbie-speak I guess you could say that the gloves have finally come off.  This summer you might even find me in sandals…………