"Why do mammas not go to work and school?"

A very good question just asked by little Lou Lou. I answered, "Because if mammas went to work and school, who would feed you your lunch, and wipe your nose, and do the dishes, and give you hugs, and read you stories?" That answer seemed acceptable enough, and I was rewarded with a kiss.

I haven't blogged in months because I haven't wanted to turn this blog into one big whining vent about being pregnant and all the hormonal ups and downs. However, as I sit here now I realize that I have come full circle--content and filled to the core with gratitude for all that I have. Okay and sometimes I just laugh outright because life is so full of wonderful, exciting, hilarious moments that are mine. This doesn't mean that I'm not sick of being pregnant, hating all the weight I've gained, freaking out about packing up my whole house in the next month, and having occasional panic attacks about caring for a soon-to-come newborn. But my life is balanced, and I don't feel insane. (Except perhaps during those killer BH contractions that last for hours and then the doctor the next day tells you you'll still be preggers for weeks!) (See, this is why I haven't blogged for awhile.)

Anywho, there's lots I could fill the masses in on here, but I'd rather just simplify it all and say, THIS--my little life I've got here--is why this mama doesn't go to work and school! I've got too much at home that I would be missing out on;)

Plus, I've already got a degree that I spent plenty of time working on, and a fantastic husband who goes to work and school for me....

That is all. For now.

The jig is up.

So here it is folks. I have nothing to blog about that isn't too private to share with the world wide web. Solution? Make my life un-private and deal with the results. (Hey, I have to vent somewhere...)

You know that thing I've been hoping and wishing and thinking and praying for? It happened! And now that the hurdle has been... hurdled, there has been much rejoicing in the land. (Example: squealing, crying, day dreaming, planning, calculating, and looking up as much information as possible even though I have pretty much been there before.)

To sum up, I have been happy, happy, happy, happy, happy. For about a week and a half. I have to admit I knew the yucky nastiness was coming--but I just wanted to be happy and not think about it. And yet here I am, smiling inside and grimacing on the outside. So if you happen to see me within the next three months, and it strikes you that I am looking pale, sickly, constipated, or nauseous--I AM. Just know that underneath it all is a huge, cheesy, out-of-this-world-happy grin.

That is all.

Here you go.

As of late I have been constantly writing blog posts in my head, with the idea that sooner or later (sooner rather than later) I would actually put these thoughts on the screen. Funny enough, once I accomplish my "head blog", I feel fulfilled enough from my train of thought to forget about actually posting. Today I want to actually get my thoughts down so they can become officially known to the internet and my posterity (if they ever bother with it).

The last six months of my life have been changing ones for me. I started out with many expectations of what my immediate future would hold, and then I pretty much demanded the universe to grant my requests. An attitude like that rarely gets you far, and this is where the Lord stepped in to teach me a long awaited lesson. The thought of "being taught a lesson" is usually not very appealing, but I have found to the contrary that the lessons, the knowledge, the understanding, and the enlightenment are incredible gifts I hope I will never be without.

Have the things I expected finally been granted me? No--but in return I have been given far more than I asked. I feel as though I'm swimming in blessings and happiness that I never knew before how to touch. My burden is lighter, my heart is bigger, my capacity to love is stronger. I am learning to listen and learn and enjoy life as it is presented to me. I have motivation to do and be things I never thought I would find the will for.

Yes, I still yearn and hope and pray for the experiences and the blessings I am without, but in the meantime my life is full and complete. I am playing with my children, reading stories, going on walks, cooking meals, organizing and decorating, teaching, having deep conversations, pondering and praying, gardening, making goals, learning, listening to beautiful music, smelling (the actual) flowers, and laughing because it feels good. In short, I am happy.

That is all. For now.

Ketchup.

So yes, I'm back. At least for today. It's been about five weeks since I blogged last and my mind is about to explode with random thoughts for the unknown public to read. Here are a few for your perusal:

• I swear estrogen is dripping off the walls of this house. Buttercup cries at the drop of a hat as if she's menstruating, and both little princesses insist on changing their outfits (along with shoes, scarves, purses, jewelery, and other accessories) at least five times a day.
• Why do the good people of North Dakota continually drive five miles under the speed limit? I never would have called myself a Utah driver--but when a lady in a Taurus with two babies in the back goes whizzing by all the traffic on the freeway, there is no other explanation.
• I LOVE my husband. Bless his soul if I could do it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing. Not only does the man still give me flutters when he walks through the door everyday, he loves me and takes care of me like I'm THE queen. I'm so thrilled with this whole physical therapist thing because shoot, Charming is smokin' in a pair of dockers and a button-up collared shirt (with the sleeves rolled up all temptingly like he's really just a rustic mountain man underneath). Oh, and he made me a fabulous chocolate cake (his own recipe mind you) for mother's day. This man knows what love is.
• "Little House on the Prairie" (the tv series), has turned into a very unsatisfying soap opera for me as of late. I was bestowed with all 9 seasons for Christmas, and now what can I say? Will Laura and Almanzo ever stop bickering and just get to the romancing already? I mean I understand it's a family show and all, but good golly, if they can address issues like rape, murder, and death, I think we could deal with a little sweet-talking and a soulful kiss or two. (Yes, I know, I'm a loser. Moving on.)
• I have committed a domestic sin and bought (for a few weeks in a row now) ready-made meals for my family. It was yummy.
• I have gone from obsessing about household cleanliness--such as sweeping the floors three times a day and scrubbing toilets for fun--to beginning to comb through summer clothes put in storage for my girls, and dropping the whole project winding up with sundresses strewn all over the house by my precious little angels. Odd. Maybe I'm bipolar. I won't look into that though--I'll probably just end up taking another non-helpful expensive test/procedure.
• Better Homes and Gardens magazine is my new bible. I've actually begun tearing out pages of my favorite things and consequently had to make a "Home Decor" file in my cabinet.
• I actually spent more than half of my birthday money on "home decor". Crazy sauce. And does my house look any cuter? Not for me to judge...
• Buttercup has officially banned the word "cute". Apparently anything "cute" is a little girl thing and she is now in the "big girl" category. Why was I never informed that adolescence began at four years old? They should have trained us for this in all those prenatal classes I had to attend (you know, in between the "How to latch on" and "Go to your happy place when it hurts like the devil" chats).
• No really, I was serious. Please stop hitting on Livvy. (Plus is makes Jayni feel bad.)
• I went running the other day. I should have had a photo shoot for a special scrapbook page because I don't think that's ever going to happen again.
• Last night Charming helped me concoct an avocado hair mask (thank you BHG magazine!) at 10:30 at night. He then applied it to my entire head and actually seemed to be enjoying himself. I just wanted some chips for dipping with.
• I AM going to color my hair. If I keep chanting this maybe it will happen. Don't worry, I will still be a former blonde.
• It's been weeks since I've read an entire book. Something must be wrong. Or maybe I just need to get through Little House.
• How do you respond when your two-year-old is continually yelling at everyone around her "Don't SAY that!" I just end up saying "Don't SAY that!" right back at her and then we're going in circles. I hate being outwitted by a small child.
• Did I mention that Charming is growing his hair out just for me? This is how I know the guy loves me--it's a weird Edward fetish. Don't mock me, just feel privileged that I let you in on the strange inner workings of my mind.
• Today I was wishing I had learned to play the violin. Odd. I can't even play the piano competently.
• I am really looking forward to my Jane Austen tour of England when I'm.... well when I'm older and have money. Apparently that is important when you want to sleep in a castle in the British countryside.

Hopefully you'll be hearing from me again soon. That is all.

Please don't be offended just because I have weird dreams. Put your scoffing to good use and give me a reason!

I tossed and turned last night in bed, lost in one of those awful dreams where you can't accomplish your purpose. You know--like when you want to run away and you're stuck, or you need to dial 911 and you just can't seem to get the sequence right. Well last night my plight of pity was bra shopping and trying desperately to find the right size.

I remember pilfering feverishly through racks and racks of all different types of bras, finally narrowing them down to a nice white padded bra. But oh dear me I couldn't find my size! They had every size imaginable of this particular bra except for mine. I was throwing stuff off shelves when finally the sales lady came to give me a hand and asked if she could measure me. (I'm used to this sort of awesome treatment because, and here's a confession--I only bra shop at Victoria's Secret. Makes a girl feel nice, inside and out. Ah-hem. Moving on.) I lifted up my arms obediently and rolled my eyes like "Again! You'd think a girl would know her bra size." But then the most amazing thing happened. The sales clerk/brazier measurer expert royally dubbed me a 32 D.

So. Happy.

I had officially gone from average circumference and volume to trim and well-endowed! Needless to say there were plenty of bras in that size around the store, and many on clearance--because, let's face it, not very many people are blessed with my figure. (And after nursing two babies too!)

So what does all this mean? I vote for meaningless, but I bet you could come up with something much better than that, probably a horrific background story involving my adolescence and a date gone wrong. Let me know what you come up with.

On a related note, here's a big bra for you:


Also one more thing to destroy your day: Whenever you hear the beautiful classic song Edelweiss from The Sound of Music, think of your bra. It'll put a smile to your face and ruin that special song for you forever!

That is all.

Allow me this moment of Drama.

I. Hate. North. Dakota.

There. I said it. Stupid, stupid, stupid place! Why would anyone choose to live in this frozen, barren, wasteland? There is nothing beautiful here, nothing noteworthy or of interest--at least, nothing noteworthy or of interest to me.

When you ask a local what the heck there is to do around here, they respond that "There's always Mount Rushmore". Let me remind the masses that Mount Rushmore is in South Dakota--a completely different state and about a seven hour drive from where I live.

I woke up on this March day, hoping to see some signs of warmth, or even just life outside. I wasn't expecting to go on a picnic or let my kids run through the sprinklers, I was just looking for a glimmer of hope.

But no. Of course not. OF COURSE IT WAS THIRTEEN DEGREES BELOW ZERO!!!

Hell has officially frozen over. It's a little place I like to call home...but only for one. more. year. (Insert evil smile here).

(PR disclaimer: The people in North Dakota are lovely. I mean no offense towards you or your homeland. I just hate this place.)

That is all.

Hallelujah.

It's raining.

In North Dakota.

In February.

See the happiness streaming down my face.

A hopeless letter to a long-time enemy

Dear Body,

Why do you hate me? It is a question I have been longing to ask throughout the years, ever since I noticed the continuity of really ugly, loud, repetitive frog-like hiccups and torturous periods.

Did you not see what a sweet toddler I was? Instead you cursed me with nightly leg-aches that plague me to this day (and then decided to pass them on to dear, sweet Buttercup I might add). You filled my teenage years with acne and klutzyness. Why do you still insist on daily stubbing my toe and kunging my elbow on a passing wall/dresser/lamp? It would be nice if once in awhile you would kindly do your job and send my brain a signal that my limbs are so long and there are big objects obstructing my path and thus my arm/leg/head/hip perhaps ought to move over a bit to make room.

I have tried so hard to be kind to you--reaching out to you with the hand of friendship by doing endless step-aerobics, washing my face nightly, and eating vegetables. But those gestures of love you have thrown back in my face like a slap. What was with those terrible pregnancies and the so-not-necessary extra weight gain? Why?

I will never give up, because that would mean the war is over and you have won. But I do have a small request for you. It shouldn't be too difficult to handle. When you decide to smite me with a physical abnormality/disease/bothersome random symptoms, could you please make it clear what the actual underlying problem is? I'm really sick of these guessing games, so really it would help us both out if you could just be open and honest. And then give the doctors proof that I'm not a hypochondriac the next time they decide to do an expensive test/procedure.

Body, I know we've had some rough times, but we could start over and begin a new relationship right now if you're willing to cooperate. I want to love you. Please trust me. Please stop the madness.

Please.

Sincerely,

Megs

Why can't we be friends?

First of all, thank you to those of you brave enough to vote on my blog background. I actually have a site meter, and so I can see how many hits my blog gets a day and where they come from--not exactly who you are, so it's not super stockery. Anywho, the point is that I know more people visit this blog than the amount that actually comment or participate in polls. That's fine if you wish to remain anonymous, but seriously, I highly doubt I would be creeped out by your blog-stocking, rather I would be flattered by your interest. So, if you're up to it, make yourself known!

So (obviously) I did pick a new background that I feel very comfortable with. It's casual, cute, and not over-the-top--kind of like me. I always like to be presentable but in a cute and casual way. Still, you'll be hard-pressed to find me with glitzy jewelery; simple earrings and maybe a bracelet to church are about as far as I go. Those things are attention-attracters, and I'd rather my jewelery or my hair or whatever not become the focus of people's thoughts. I suppose my ultimate goal in dressing up etc. would be for people to subconsciously approve of me and then move on. For example--if someone tells you how beautiful your makeup is, that might actually be a clue that you have on too much makeup. Just the fact that your makeup has made it's way into the forefront of another person's thoughts should tell you that it's a bit overdone. Makeup should beautify and enhance one's features, not create what is not there originally.

Wow, that was a diatribe. I feel that now I have blogged once again I have several things that may or may not be of interest to all of you who compose the elusive internet. I think my main issues are 1) I have personal issues going on that distract me from fun day-to-day things. This obviously needs to change in order for me to enjoy the little things in life, which tend to make up the bulk of life's enjoyments. And 2) I believe I have a slight fear, or perhaps shyness is the correct word, of boring my friends, family, and random strangers to death. My new goal is to not over-analyze before I blog. Rather, I am going to enjoy the process (hopefully). We'll see how it goes.

Much love to all--friends and stalkers alike!

EDIT: I just remembered a wonderful compliment a friend of mine sent me on facebook this week. She told me how nice I looked at church and she liked my hair. I wanted to clarify (especially to her if she is reading this) that her words gave me warm fuzzies and made my day. I was in no way referring to her compliment when I was talking about people noticing your hair or makeup. Love ya! That is all.

Please, help me care.

I've been deliberating for the last 15 minutes if I wanted to blog. I mean, all signs point to Yes! You haven't blogged in over a week Megs! But guess what?

I.

Don't.

Care.

I suppose that statement could be somewhat misleading--indeed, I wish I cared. I wish that I had several entertaining blogs ready to spring on the world. Truth be told, there have been some flickers of ideas where I think, "Ah! I should totally blog about that." But then the moment passes and it's gone.

To sum up, I have lost the motivation to blog. I promise this is a temporary disease--because I love blogging, it's so fun--I just need the proper motivation to spit out my random thoughts. So there you go, my blogging about not blogging. Now next time, perhaps I will concentrate this energy into an actual post.

That is all.

If you can deal with me pledge your loyalty now. If that's too much commitment, you may continue lurking without revealing yourself. Fine by me.

So I've noticed lately that many of my posts (or just regular sentences for that matter) begin with "So". So what? Just pointing out that I'm aware of this idiosyncrasy and I don't plan to change it soon. "So" just seems like a nice, casual way to start a sentence--things flow better with so. I don't do it on purpose, it just flows from me like the universe was meant to be this way.

You may have noticed that my blog background can very well be described as "blech". I am also aware if this. My favorite blog background supplier is apparently everybody else's favorite as well because their service has been down for about a week. So after about 2.5 minutes of heavy internet searching, I found that no other site can offer what thecutestblogontheblock.com can. By the time this monumental discovery was made I had messed around with the template enough to have permanently deleted the cutesy Christmas ornament background I had going on. So now we're just back to blogger blah--but have no fear, the problem will soon be remedied (I hope and pray).

I'm not sure if I have ever stated the point of my blog here on the blog itself. I'm not positive what a reader's opinion of it might be. I know it isn't overly thematic--more random than anything else. Some might think this is a Mormon Mommy blog or maybe a fun way for a SAHM to keep connected with her friends. Although I'm sure many of my posts come across this way, the blog's true purpose has been to serve as my personal prescription against boredom, stir-craziness, and a need to spout my thoughts, ideas, or whatever it is that is on my mind to someone or something besides small children. That's not really something you can put as a header to welcome browsers to your domain, but nevertheless--I think that's the general idea. I simply need something in the universe to listen, even if it is just a blank screen. Fortunately for you (wink wink) it all gets to be posted on the World Wide Web for your perusal and entertainment.

So please forgive me if I spout and it seems a little whiny or ranty. It's therapeutic for me. Here goes:

Actually I've just sat here for the last 4 minutes trying to find a way to say what I'm thinking about feeling without coming across whiny and losing readers. Give me your confidence--or maybe just give me your therapist, I could probably use one. Okay now here goes.

There are some things in life that I've planned and hoped for believing that they will come easily. Lately one of those things has, perhaps, turned out not to be the case. Notice the perhaps--luckily it's there, but at the moment all I feel is doom settling around me in regards to this thing I have planned and hoped for. Lately I have felt strongly that I must be suffering from great anxiety--Charming thinks I ought to get "real help" if you know what I mean. I worry over things normal people sigh about and then forget. I worry to the point of making myself sick. I've received great speeches of hope and trust and faith from loved ones, but I still worry about potential car wrecks, illnesses, and financial problems. This affliction doesn't cover all areas of my life, but it does enough for me to spend part of every day in extreme worry and anxiousness. I will continue planning and hoping, but in the mean time I'm sure I will continue worrying and fretting.

Okay here's some real whining: I'm sick. Don't you hate being sick? I do. Okay now I'll just go take some Sudafed. Dang I forgot we're out. Whiiiiiiiiine.

Now I've probably lost all 9 of my readers. (Shoot, and just when the numbers were starting to go up.) Meh, I'm sure Jayni and Jaction will stay loyal. Feel free to pledge your loyalty in the comments.

Let yourself go...

My Aunt Betsy is a hilarious woman who has a bubbly personality that makes you feel comfortable and want to laugh all at once. Over the years I have gathered several silly songs from her, some I'm sure she has made up on the spot and many she has pulled from the "funny file" in her brain. I remember once being on a killer hike with her and we were both complaining that we needed to go potty (at least that's what my good manners call it). She burst out: "I'll be gladder when my bladder is flatter!" Much giggling followed.

There is one song in particular from Aunt Betsy that has stuck with me over the years. It is sung to the tune of Let It Snow, and it seems appropriate today:

Oh the hair on my legs is frightful,
But the warmth is so delightful!
And since I've no place to go,
Let it grow, let it grow, let it grow!

It's cold here at the North Pole (that's where I live isn't it? Just lacking elves and reindeer...) and the snow is slowly piling up. I am not in the mood to shave my legs just so I can give myself a razor rash the goose bumps inspired. Nor do I think it necessary to flaunt my legs in 5 degree weather....Charming will understand.

So here's to the fuzzy warmth I intend to retain until next Spring... sometime in May. Will you join me women of the North? Or women anywhere who are cold for that matter? Take a stand and let your legs go.

Ill advised "scriptural" quotations

Yesterday morning I was laying around the house being girlsick. Buttercup seemed concerned at my lethargy and asked me if I was "ill". Not wanting to go into the reasons for menstruation (the child won't stop asking "why"--it'll drive a good soul mad), I answered that yes I was, just a little bit. She responded, "Well I am ill too. I think I have a throat coming on." I liked that.

On another (still very silly) note, Charming and I were lately discussing dumb movie quotes. Our two favorites were these:

"Moses, your hair!"

--"Zephora" in The Ten Commandments, when Moses comes down from Mount Sinai. Is that all she can comment on at this defining moment? Then again, who knew that a spiritual experience would cause you to suddenly resemble Santa Claus...

"I am going to love you more than any man has ever loved any woman!"

--"Nephi" in The Book of Mormon Movie. What can I say? It was a really dumb movie. The story focused less on actual scriptural doctrine and story line, and more on stupid embellishments, like this weird line Nephi pronounces to his bride just before he carries her into their bridal tent. Makes you want to clear your throat awkwardly and squirm a little.

I'm sure the real characters in these stories are up in heaven going "I would never have..... I can't believe they put that into a movie!" I feel for them, I really do.

Ranting and breastfeeding and coming full circle.

I was reading a blog the other day about breastfeeding. The blogger simply stated that she absolutely did not like breastfeeding, but was still committed to it as long as it was working out with her and her child. I started to read through the comments section and believe me when I say that if I would have read every comment it would have taken me and hour and a half. Good gracious people can get opinionated fast! These comments were no-so-much geared towards "well bless you for nursing your children, even though it's not fun"--but more along the lines of "WHAT?!? You don't ENJOY sacrificing your body for the good of your child? WHAT KIND OF MOTHER ARE YOU!" and "SHAME ON THE LAST PERSON WHO POSTED because I disagree with not only everything they said but also everything they think and feel and do and I think they're ugly even though this is the internet and I can't see their picture." The idea of the original post soon was completely lost in the murky waters of breastfeeding vs. formula wars. You'd think that the author of the blog had simply said "Breastfeeding! GO!" and sent the commenters loose.

I have seen more and more of this on facebook and sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I just simply cancelled my account. Lately the craziness has stemmed from posts (and sometimes just status updates) that you'd think had shouted "Prop 8! GO!" And then everybody jumps down everyone else's throats. The same arguments are spouted again and again, and there's always 2 or 3 people that dominate the conversation that have to put down every last word someone opposing them has said. I can't stand the fight, especially when I've heard all the arguments a thousand times. I admit I sometimes give in and state my opinion or my stance--but that's about as far as I like to go. I hate confrontation, and I really do believe that everyone should be treated with respect. What IS it about the internet that turns usually polite people into rude, in-your-face monsters? It must be the seeming anonymity, and the feeling that there is enough distance between you and a virtual person who perhaps doesn't seem real.

Anywho, those are my thoughts for today. And now I would like to publicly state that I have breastfed both of my children. It was painful at first, but I was glad I did it in the end--despite the floppiness that has replaced the perkiness I used to enjoy. Sometimes nursing was fun, and I loved the bonding. Sometimes it was a nightmare because it was 2:30 am and I really needed to go to the potty but I was NURSING so obviously I couldn't. (But that part was also fun because I caught up on a ton of my reading in the wee hours.) And then sometimes it was just aggravating because Buttercup would run away and then come back for more. When that happens you know it's time to stop nursing (at least for me). And so I did. And I didn't feel guilty about giving my child a bottle of formula for a couple of months. But I did feel proud of myself for giving my children the extra nutrition that will be so beneficial to them throughout their lives.

What I'd really like to discuss is nursing in public--but not at length. Okay maybe I'll wait for my next post. And PLEASE, tell me your opinions. I'm sure all five of my readers are very polite and well-articulated folks. I will turn on the comments without fear.

Cinderella

I woke up today and immediately went "Ughhh". I saw the entire day ahead of me and wasn't looking forward to the routine. Still, I don't have the option of rolling over and going back to bed. Children were calling "Mama!", and Charming was getting ready to go out the door to school. Responsibility and adulthood call--and of course I answer like any good mother should. After I finished my morning workout (like I said, "Ugh"), complete with fussy children and a team of cheerleaders bouncing around an aerobic step on the television, I decided I needed a mood change while I continued on my domestic journey.

In keeping with my new resolution to be more musical, I put on a CD while I fed the girlies some breakfast. What could be more cheerful and carefree as The Slipper and the Rose soundtrack? The silly songs and romantic melodies took me back into my childhood, remembering my awe of the French Revolution period costumes, the white wigs, the delicate young girl turned into a servant who somehow still looked a bit "come hither" in her peasant garb, and a tall prince whose eyes were spaced too far apart to look completely human. With a mouth full of cheerios, Buttercup began pelting me with questions. "Who is this singing?" "What is she singing about?" "Why does she miss the prince?" "Does the prince love Cinderella?" "Will they get married?" etc. etc. Although Buttercup is familiar with Disney's version of Cinderella, she was aware that this was a different version and was anticipating plot twists. During Cinderella's woeful ballad, Once I Was Loved, Buttercup declared that this was her favorite song! and while listening to the Prince and his sidekick sing What a Comforting Thing to Know, she stated that this was Daddy's favorite song. Huh.

Anywho, I got thinking of all the different versions of Cinderella there are, how the story is so timeless that it is done again and again. And still, some of the stories keep us on our toes just as much as Buttercup was this morning, wondering when and if the Prince and Cinderella will have a happy, romantic ending. For me, Disney's Cinderella is the fairy tale Bible. It is the original version to go back to for story facts, truths, and basics. For most children, this movie is their introduction to the Cinderella story.

A few years after my initial Cinderella cinematic experience, I viewed The Slipper and the Rose. Much joy followed as I learned all the songs and mimicked the dancing and voice influxions. Jayni, my cousin Liz, and I would rewind all the love songs and sing them together over and over. What makes this particular version unique is Cinderella's self-sacrifice for the Kingdom (because apparently if she marries the Prince, their nation will go to war and cease to exist), by having the Prince's steward relay to the Prince that Cinderella left him because she was heartless and wicked. Ah, the drama! Nevertheless, Prince Charming finds Cinderella wherever she has been hidden and they unite eternally in wedded bliss.

A friend introduced me to the Roger and Hammerstein version in my pre-teens. After The Slipper and the Rose I wasn't impressed. Sure, it was all a bit witty, but there was no real depth of emotion or plot involved. It does deserve a nod since Julie Andrews starred in the original, but after casting Brandy of all people in the strangely politically correct modern version, I don't waste my time with it.

Ever After came out my sophomore year of high school, and I remember it well. It is always shocking to me to think of how much I loathe Drew Barrymore, and yet I love several of her movies! In Ever After I was able to look past Drew's terrible accent and acting abilities and focus on more important things--like Dougray Scott. I watched this movie over and over, soaking in the period costuming, and the more interesting plot. The prince actually has a name--Henry--as well as a personality in this film. He became less an objective goal (such as wealth, station, riches, and the all-encompassing love), and more of a human with goals and a journey of his own throughout the story. This was not a man with salamander-like eyes; he was a man a girl could fall in love with. And I did.

I'm not sure which of the two came out next--Ella Enchanted or A Cinderella Story--but despite the obvious title of the latter, I favor the creativity of the former as being more "cinderella-ish". Ella Enchanted is placed in a magic medieval time period, bumped up with modern mannerisms. Anne Hatheway does a fantastic job of portraying the pitiable but likable Ella, who is bound by a curse to always be obedient. Ella is quite a liberal for her setting, and shapes the plot as she attempts to convince Prince Char that he can change the kingdom for the better. For me this movie is a must-have, fun to watch and giggle about with sisters and girlfriends. In contrast, I found A Cinderella Story to be cliche and predictable--only different by adding highschool and technology. There were a few good laughs over the over-glamourized stepmother and dense stepsisters, but the acting was borderline cheesy, and let's face it, Hillary Duff learned the bulk of her acting skills on the Disney Channel--never a good recommendation.

Did I cover them all? I hope so; I hope there aren't any more in the making out there for awhile. We need a break from Cinderella, and it might be fun to delve into some new stories. My advice for those endevoring to recreate a fairy tale? Awesome costumes, mix the story up a bit (more character depth etc.), and hott men. Good luck.