Photo Title: The Hurried Child © Carlos and Jason SanchezVisit their website to see additional photos.
Carlos and Jason live in Montreal, Canada, and
specialize in photography.
Photo used with permission from Carlos and Jason Sanchez.
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(sung to a familiar tune)
Mary had a little child
a little child
a little child
Mary had a little child
And planned things every day
With so much structure in her life
In her life
All her life
With so much structure in her life
The child could never play
NO KIDding
I have an awesome memory,
I remember turning two,
There are people taking pictures,
Like I'm a monkey in a zoo.
"She's just the cutest 5 year old"
Is what my Mama said,
When she stuck me in a Christmas play,
With a star atop my head.
I'd made the local papers,
By the time that I was seven,
And then a spot on TV,
The day I turned eleven
Mama pushed and planned and prodded
Every project so deliberately,
That when, still in my teens,
I'd gained superstar celebrity.
Thanks to Mama I'm known to millions,
I've got fame and untold wealth,
But I haven't got a single friend.
I don't even know myself.
I'm hooked on booze and drugs,
I've gone completely wild,
At twenty, my life is at an end,
And I never was a child.
COME BACK GIGI!
Do you remember Gigi?
Do you recall her colt-like enthusiasm,
Her awkward grace,
Her charming innocence?
Do you remember Tomboys?
Those girls, in 'our day',
Who were described as 'betwixt and between",
'All arms and legs',
'Little ugly ducklings'?
Do you recall their gangliness,
Their bony knees covered in bruises,
Their hair bobbed into a 'pudding-basin' shape?
Gigi blossomed.
That was what it was called in those days.
"Your Greta has certainly blossomed'
One mother would say to another.
And everyone knew what was meant.
In the fulness of time Gigi became a woman.
In the fulness of time our Tomboy became the toast of the town.
In the fulness of time……..
But now time has no fulness to arrive at.
That time between childhood and womanhood
Has been filled-in
In a sort of paint-by-numbers,
One-size-fits-all
Sort of way.
Our Tomboy sports painted toe-nails,
Gauzy 'bling',
Frothy tutus
And all the accessories required by today's
(heaven help us!)
'Tween'
Perky little bras adorn
Very non-perky little chests.
These young girls will blossom, too,
No doubt about it.
Eventually Nature will catch-up with fantasy.
But at what price?
There will be no hesitant little ballerina
Emerging from the wings,
Pristine, shiny, new.
There will be no universal gasp
At the transformation.
'Been there, done that.'
The eyes will be less wide,
The skin will be less dewy,
The breathlessness will be less thrilling.
And the tutu will be grubby and crumpled.
Come back, Gigi!
She is a beautiful child and that is what she should be. Instead of posing a la Marilyn style she should be swinging on a swing or the picture should be of her playing hopscotch. Why do parents allow this? Yep, that's the way I feel.
Have a great Tuesday Nancy.
'And this is me aged six and a half, getting ready for my junior beauty pageant contest. The photo you saw on the page before was of my sister. We both took part in the same competition but I tripped her up just before she went onstage; she fell, broke her ankle and I won the contest'.
Greetings from London.
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