I am on Day Two and a Half of my daughter's stomach virus (that's right, the half counts). It's been many years since I had to hold a girl's hair back while she vomited. Funny how you don't miss certain things from your youth...
In between patting my daughter's fevered brow with a cold washcloth and allowing sips of Dioralyte (which sounds like someone who worships at the altar of Christian Dior but isn't), I've been subjected to a Barbie movie marathon. Who knew Barbie was a straight-to-DVD star like the Olsen twins? We ended yesterday's session with Barbie of Swan Lake and picked up this morning with Barbie Diamond Castle (and I'll admit, some of the songs in the latter one are quite catchy). Although I had Barbies as a child and definitely recall cruising my Barbie around in her purplish convertible, as an adult I have an automatic aversion to all things Barbie. Yes, she's awesome in Toy Story 3, but does she have the chops to carry the lead roles in all these movies? According to my 3-year old she does, so what's my beef? Aside from the much bigger discussion of a girl's unrealistic body image, etc., I find Barbie flat. The Patron Saint of Dullsville. All of these characters she "portrays" are bland and sweet. The writers have tried to make her courageous and spunky, but she's unbelievably sincere. Where's her edge? I realize I'm not the target audience and (I guess) we want our wee ones to think everyone is lovely and pure of heart, but are we setting our kids up for disappointment when the people they meet in the real world are more shades of grey than pure white? And although that was not a race reference, it brings me to my next point -- where are the minority characters? You cannot possibly expect me to believe that in all of the lands - Fairytopia, Mermaidia, Made-up-Worlds-with-No-Name, Barbie doesn't even pass a brother on a busy street? The first time I saw Diamond Castle, I watched Liana and Alexa crooning sweet love songs to each other, thinking that Barbie was getting her first lesbian role. Then they introduced the guitar-playing twins, Jeremy and Ian, and I knew the story was swerving back into traditional territory. Sigh.
So after swallowing a chock full o' CGI blondes these past couple of days [insert distasteful thought here], Barbie and vomit are now inextricably linked in my mind. "My tummy hurts," my daughter cries again. Yes, mine too.
Quote of My Week: "When you die, you go to jail." Courtesy of the above-referenced daughter.