Archives for August 2012

Brave – A Review

Today I saw easily the best film I’ve seen in a VERY long time. I should put some context around this by saying most films I watch fall into one of two (polar opposite) genres. Firstly and most often, nurse movies with a certification U, occasionally PG but very definitely child oriented and the second, Sci-Fi type thrillers which Super Daddy adores and I endure.  To give further context, on a rainy weekend back in May we picked up Ice-Age Three: Dawn of the Dinosaurs on DVD to watch on our then institutionalised Friday Family Movie Night. And we’ve watched in 1671 times since. Such ‘over the top’ movie viewing is only closely followed by Ice-Age 2 : The Meltdown which since showing on TV just a few weeks ago, and due to the vitriol of recordable viewing we’ve now watched somewhere in the region of 583 times. It’s fair to the say the kids are fans.

This mornings’ movie watching however took me completely by surprise.  Yes, I expected the new Disney Pixar film Brave to be good, it’s Disney Pixar after all, but I didn’t expect it to be the most amazing film I think I might have watched.*

When I first saw the trailer, I rolled my eyes and cringed more than a little at the Scottish accents. It also had a look suspiciously like Braveheart, another film I endured rather than enjoyed. So whilst the kids were cock a hoop about going to see it and we were all washed, breakfasted and teeth cleaned by half part eight well ahead of the nine-thirty kick-off such was the excitement, I was expecting to have my iPhone out half way through and doing a spot of internet shopping while we watched.

From the opening scene started however, I was enthralled. The colours were so bright and vivid and the music brought goose bumps to my arms (I think a bit of Scottish patriotism came into play here.) Merida is a feisty little thing with her vibrant and bouncy red curls and her ‘I’ll do what I want to do’ attitude (I know a 6 year old who’s a little like this minus the red hair and the curls.)

Billy Connolly as the voice of King Fergus was just hilarious and each line was delivered with the same aplomb as if he were in his own stage show. I laughed out loud lots of times, and found myself watching the whole movie with eyes wide open and afraid to blink in case I missed something. I felt like a child watching it. The story is lovely, and has lots of mother daughter exchanges which despite not being a real Princess, I expect myself and Little Princess Pink will have over the years. I blinked back the tears on many an occasion, and others, I just let them roll down my cheeks unashamed.  A truly, truly beautiful movie and I will be adding the DVD to my Santa list this year. The kids were equally impressed, a little afraid at some parts, and like me, laughing their heads off at others. I could watch this film again right now and I’m sure I’d love it more than the first time.

There was indeed a lot of ‘Och’s and they managed to get in a ‘Jings, Crivens and Help ma Boab’ but my favourite line, and there were many to choose from, was ‘Och, that scaffy witch gave me a gammy spell.’ If you’re Scottish, you’ll know what that means, if not, I think the closest translation might be ‘oh that unpleasant witch gave me a malfunctioning spell.’ It doesn’t have quite the same impact!

Since coming home, we’ve coloured in the Princess Pink’s Brave colouring book, read the story and dressed up the paper Merdia, Queen Elinor and witch dolls that were given as birthday presents.  Merida has now been promoted to favourite princess, ahead of Belle from Beauty and the Beast – and that is no mean feat at all.

The Little Monster? Yes, he loved it too, finding Merida’s brothers, triplets Hamish, Hubert and Harris just hilarious (and bearing a strong resemblance to one of his best buddies making them all the more adorable.)  I think it’s fair to say he’s all ‘Braved’ out now however as he’s just crept up to me and whispered ever so quietly “Mummy, can I watch Ice-Age 2.”

* With the exception of Top Gun, Dirty Dancing & Grease  which gives nothing away about my type of films at all.

This is not a sponsored post and no payment was received for this review. We paid for the cinema tickets with our own pennies from our own piggy banks. All views expressed are our own.

Silent Sunday

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Well there you go

I’ve spent seven days staring at my sparkly shellac manicure on my sun lounger in Spain whilst sipping sangria and deciding exactly what in my life needs to change on my return to a less than sunsoaked Scotland. You know the way you do on holiday.

So far on my list I have ‘buy a new shower curtain, viagra sales get an orchid for the windowsill in the bathroom’ and ‘start eating quinoa.’  That’s it. This year I’m not sure if I’ve made a subconscious choice not to embark on a mammoth life change post holidays or if I’m purposefully avoiding the Big Stuff.

My usual sun lounger plans tend to involve fabulous diets which result in next years beach body being hotter than hot, thumb  keep fit regimes which do the same, taking up a new hobby which expands my thinking, social life or bank balance  or some other mad cap plan that’ll be a flash in the pan within a month of my return. But this year I approached holidays with a slightly different mindset.

One Saturday waaaaayyyy back in April I woke up next to Super Daddy who was snoring in that comforting way that he does, I could hear the kids giggling in one or other of their bedrooms signalling that even at this early hour they had started their day with gusto.  Whilst closing my eyes and dozing would have been my preferable option, or mooching downstairs and bringing a hot cup of tea back to bed , I felt, well, odd.

My stomach was churning – proper washing machine spin cycle stuff, and I felt scared, nervy, edgy and uncertain. I mulled over whether I’d had a bad dream that had shaken me, but nothing I could recall. I quickly ran through our plans for the weekend in my mind to see if something was triggering this feeling. Again, no, all the usual lovely weekend plans with friends and family lay ahead. My stomach ploughed through its washine washing spin cycle. I felt sick, uncertain and worried. And it hasn’t stopped feeling like that since.

I look back over the last 12 weeks still wondering what happened. Several doctors visits, lots of illogical thinking and starting each day with a gut wrenching whirl of uncertainty, fear and worry, it transpires I’m trying to manage Generalised Anxiety Disorder. Oh. My. GAD. It’s awful. And apparently it’s really common. One in three people feel like this on a regular basis.

I don’t know where to start in writing about it,  or if indeed I will write anymore at all on the matter, but anyone who has checked in on Super Mummy now and again will see that for some time, I’ve simply not been writing at all.

I’ve been selective in who I’ve told (until now), this feeling being so at odds with the person that others think I am. The person I think I am. Always in control, got it all together, how does she do it?

I’ve consulted various books, friends, websites, leaflets, spoken to people who’ve been there themselves, some I knew had, others I just discovered, and yes, it is very common.  I have constantly looked for the ‘trigger’; initially I thought I’d found it, delighted that I was back in control, I thought I was better. Then it turns out, no. It crept up again, or rather just hit me out of the blue like a truck. How I got through that particular day I do not know. But I did.

So for this week, buying my orchid and shower curtain and eating quinoa is about as big as it gets, and thats just fine with me.

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