When I became a mother I viewed things much differently. Every male child my son’s age or younger somehow became mine. Well, at least in the movies or on TV. If the character hurt I felt as if it was my own child and it broke my heart.
I distinctly remember standing in my son’s room when he was three years old. I was VERY pregnant with my youngest and I made the mistake of watching the beginning of Tarzan with him. The baby boy’s parents were brutally murdered and the child lay helpless crying in the jungle. I balled my eyes out. Snot everywhere. My son looked at me as if I had lost my mind!
Big Hero 6. The older brother dies at the beginning and I fell apart. What if something happened to one of my boys. How would I be able to console them?
The Jungle Book is now out in theatres. This story was one of my favorites as a child. My husband and I took our boys the first night. It was intense. Although most of you know the story I don’t want to ruin the movie for anyone. I’ll just say the scene where Mowgli’s mother is struggling with letting him go to the man village was awful. He cries loudly about not wanting to leave his home and she felt as if there was no other choice to protect him. Personally, I would have ripped off that tiger’s face. I’ve never been a wolf so I can’t 100% understand what her deal was. Maybe she didn’t feel confident in her abilities but I can’t see myself letting my boys go for any reason.
In that dark theatre I quickly tried to get myself together. I rapidly blinked my tears back into my forehead until I produced that piercing migraine one gets from holding in emotions. When the tears tried to come back down I grabbed a handful of popcorn and tried to use the delicious buttery taste as a distraction. No luck…A few gulps of coke and then finally we moved into a less heart wrenching scene.
Being a mother is a wonderful blessing but it can turn you into a weeping lunatic if you aren’t careful.
Thanks Disney! You’re always there when I need to feel like I’ve been hit by a truck 😦