My post for The Bump this week reveals how motherhood has changed my relationship with scary movies. Okay, you’re probably sitting there thinking, “Huh?” But stay with me – I’ll explain.
I used to love our junior high sleepovers, where we’d gather in a friend’s basement with our sleeping bags, bowls of popcorn and M&Ms and rent VHS tapes of really horrible “thrillers” (like “Silent Night, Deadly Night” and – of course – “Slumber Party Massacre.”). In retrospect, I’m not quite sure why we thought scaring ourselves was so much fun? But it always made for fun stories on Monday morning at school.
I still love a good scary movie – or I used to. Now that I’m a mom, I’ve developed a sudden aversion to horror flicks. Sure, I still sometimes watch them with Dr. G., who prefers horror movies that include zombies (and check out my Bump post for his theory on scary movie titles; it’s pretty spot-on). But ever since Buddy and Mimi entered my life, I view scary movies differently. Instead of finding them silly and entertaining, I now see them – yes – scary. Shocking, right?
Okay, I’ll state the obvious: Movies are fantasy. They are not real. These are actors. That’s not real blood. Blah blah blah. But part of the fun of movies is when you’re completely engrossed in the film, putting yourself in the main character’s shoes, imaging what you would do in that scenario. Why do you think we yell out, “Don’t run up the stairs! Run outside and call 911, you idiot!” when watching scary movies (a concept the original “Scream” movie totally nailed). We’re emotionally invested.
That’s why when I see a pretty young actress slaughtered on screen, my initial, guttural reaction now is, That was someone’s child! And any sort of scary disaster-type movie (“28 Days Later,” “Cloverfield”) has me panicked, imagining the steps I would take to protect and save my children if we were ever in such a horrible and terrifying situation.
This evolving relationship with scary movies got me thinking about the other unexpected and often funny ways motherhood has changed me. I’m not talking about the profound changes we all experience, but the more mundane and kind of bizarre ones (like how I still have a highly sensitive sense of smell, even after my pregnancies, which is both a blessing and a curse … trust me).
Check out the post and let me know: Has motherhood has changed your life in unexpected ways?