Thinking about Giselle, you know, from that Disney movie, Enchanted. I always found her a bit different, that cartoon lady suddenly in the real, gritty New York. Seemed like a fun concept. So, one weekend, I got what I thought was a brilliant idea. I decided I was going to conduct a little “practical experiment” right in my own home: try to bring a bit of that Giselle-style relentless optimism into our normally scheduled chaos.
My big plan was to be super positive for a whole Saturday. Not the singing to rats and pigeons part, obviously. We don’t have that many rats, and the pigeons here are pretty bold. But I was going for the full-on, see-the-good-in-everything, make-chores-magical kind of vibe. I even announced it at breakfast. My husband just sort of raised an eyebrow. My teenager, bless her heart, performed an eye-roll that probably broke some kind of record.
So, I kicked it off. “Good morning, my delightful family!” I chirped. Probably a bit too much enthusiasm before coffee for everyone. I tried to make pancakes, aiming for ‘golden circles of sunshine.’ Ended up with something more like abstract charcoal art. That was probably omen number one. Then, when it was time to tidy up, I trilled, “Let’s all clean the living room like happy little woodland creatures!” What I got back was mostly stunned silence, followed by my youngest asking if I was feeling okay. I tried to power through. I complimented my daughter’s very messy hairstyle as “charmingly bohemian.” She just squinted at me and asked if I’d lost my glasses.
By about midday, my “Giselle Project” was, let’s just say, not going to script. I tried to ‘find the delightful surprise’ when the pizza delivery guy brought the wrong order. I think I just sounded incredibly sarcastic. My attempts to turn a squabble over the TV remote into a “harmonious sharing opportunity” just made everyone stare at me like I’d grown a second head. My husband actually pulled me aside and very gently asked if I was having some kind of breakdown. You see, Giselle’s whole thing works because she’s new and genuinely innocent to all the cynicism. Me? I’ve seen a few things. It just wasn’t coming across as authentic, more like I was auditioning for a part I was clearly not suited for.
The absolute peak, the moment I knew this experiment was doomed, was when I tried to “encourage” my son while he was deep into some intense video game. I offered some uplifting comments about his “brave pixelated warrior.” He just hit pause, turned to me with this deadpan expression, and said, “Mom, this is a post-apocalyptic wasteland with zombies. Your relentless cheerfulness is kind of ruining the vibe.” And that, folks, was that. I officially threw in the towel. The “Giselle Optimism Experiment” was declared a catastrophic failure by 3:00 PM.
So, what did I learn from my little practical attempt at Disney magic? Well, mostly that being Giselle is harder than it looks, especially when your family knows your usual, slightly more world-weary self. Some characters are best left on the screen. We all had a pretty good laugh about it later that evening, though. Especially after I went back to my normal self and grumbled about the burnt pancake smell that still lingered. And honestly, that felt a lot more like our family’s version of ‘happily ever after’ than any forced smiles or chirpy songs about cleaning.
