Birthing Beautiful Ideas

Sometimes it’s more than difficult for me to reconcile my feminist sensibilities with my enduring love for the Twilight saga and my rock-solid crush on Robert-Pattinson-as-Edward-Cullen.

Sometimes I try and sweep any such reconciliation under my life-size cardboard cut-out of “Edward.”

Other times, I try really really hard to figure out how a feminist (and, um, lover of minimally decent writing) like myself could even tolerate the books.

Case in point: I recently came to the weak conclusion that despite the many things that make me cringe in the four Twilight books, Stephenie Meyers does an outstanding job of reminding me of what it feels like to desire someone before you’ve had sex with them.  Or before you’ve had sex at all.  And that’s a “good thing.”  It’s an “inspiring thing.”  Just ask Tim.

But that sort of weaselly rationalization isn’t exactly the sort of feminist reconciliation I have in mind.  It just reconciles my mindless, carnal side with…well, my mindless, carnal side.

Still other times, however, my love for Twilight is eclipsed (pun so intended) by my enduring love for yet another vampire saga: Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Oh, how I love that show.

This love runs so deep in my household that even my four-year-old has jumped on the Buffy bandwagon.

And if I’m being honest with myself, even if I stare deep into the two-dimensional eyes of the vertically-coiffed vampire in my basement, I have to admit something that all vampire-lovers should be able to admit:

Buffy could kick Edward’s ass any day.

Now that is a feminist reconciliation.

(The above-exposed ridiculousness of the Twilight films still can’t stop me from seeing the third installment of the film, however.  Happy Eclipse day to all you fellow Twihards out there!)

Scenes from earlier this week:

M, creating his Buffy masterpiece.

Me: M, I love your drawing!  Can you tell me about it?

M: Yep!  See, here’s Buffy.  And here’s Giles.  And here’s Faith.  And here’s…(continues to point out nearly a dozen characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer).

Me: awestruck silence

M: Isn’t it great, Mommy?

Me: It.  Is.  Awesome.

He asked me to label each of his drawings. I did so with geek-filled glee.

No, we don’t allow our four-year-old to watch Buffy.  But he did come downstairs one night while we were watching an episode, and he became so intrigued with what he saw and proceeded to ask so many questions about the show (every single day for the past four weeks) that he can now recount the main stories of nearly every season of the series.

Seriously. Nearly. every. season. of. the. series.

I just can’t get over the awesomeness of this awesomeness.

Edited to add: My husband has informed me that I spelled ‘Drusilla’ incorrectly.  Shame on me.