I am a Disney child, unabashedly.  And I didn’t just grow up on the Disney movies that came out when I was a kid (though I distinctly remember that I grabbed my Dad’s hand at the movie theatre when the Beast made his first entrance, as well as The Lion King being my eighth birthday party).  I grew up on classic Disney: Bed Knobs and Broomsticks, Sleeping Beauty, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Snow White, and, of course, Mary Poppins.  Though I’m not a girly-girl, classic Disney is almost guaranteed to bring me to the TV.  Something about the charm and wit of the old generation of movies just draws me in.

Then again, I seem to have trouble processing the movies lately.  As much as I love faerie tales, these older movies all—especially those done in live-action—feel like too much of a faerie tale.  I’ve found that the closer the faerie tale is to life, the further divorced from reality it actually is.  The swift romance of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang would be derided in this day, and I have to admit, I would be one of those who were, at the very least, highly skeptical.  This is not because I haven’t seen lightening-fast marriages work, but because for me, romance is a slow thing.  No matter how I try, I cannot see it any other way.  Something cynical has crept into the classic movies I love so much.

However, in direct contrast to the creeping cynicism, I’ve lately found myself to be cheerier, even when I have no right to be!  I only seem to get in an awful grumpy mood at night when I’m dog-tired.  I’ve been much more conscious of what I say and how I talk to people.  It’s been a nice change to observe in myself.  I’ve even more expressively grateful than I have previously been.  I never felt churlish or ungrateful and certainly did my best to express my gratitude, but being more conscious of it has made me aware that I could be doing much better.  Thankfully, I seem to be.

I’ve also been a lot more no-nonsense.  I’ll admit, in this upward turn of my mood, I seem to have gotten a shorter temper with people who strike me as utterly ridiculous.  I’ve never held for melodramatics and I can’t remember a time I haven’t despised repeating myself.  Thankfully, I’m pretty good at reining in my temper and working on getting better.  The cheer has triumphed over the cynicism.

She may not have competition yet, after all I am no practically perfect creature in every way, I’m gaining.  Here’s to being more like Mary! (And randomly singing all day, every day!)

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