As a mother of 2 small children, I spend a lot of time around children’s entertainment in many forms: movies, TV shows, songs, books, etc. Most children’s entertainment is at worst mildly irritating while mostly harmless, and at best able to make you, a grown adult, openly weep from 2 rooms away. (Why am I never prepared for the end of Inside Out? That movie WRECKS ME.) As I experience repeated viewings/readings/etc. of the same kids’ media ad nauseam, I find myself growing overly critical of what is meant to be simple, innocent entertainment for small children. (I’m sure no other parent can identify with this.) I figured if I’m going to be this sarcastically over-analytical about harmless kids’ entertainment, I really should share it with the world. So I am introducing an ongoing feature for my blog: Stephanie Overanalyzes Children’s Entertainment.
Our first installment features everyone’s favorite trouble-making monkey
It’s really difficult to try to convey the feelings of loss that memory stirred up within me. I felt gut-punched to be confronted by this former self whose life was so defined by books, when nowadays books – actual, physical books – play almost no part in my life. It felt like glimpsing a ghost. Because the woman who wrote that in 2013 is gone.
Oh goody, another blog! Said no one ever.