Movies Morphs into Crying over 16 and Pregnant

Let's go to the movies...

When I was a child my mother and I would spend rainy days watching AMC. Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, My Fair Lady, Annie, Guys and Dolls (Marlon Brando was my hands down favorite actor), Desiree, A Streetcar Named Desire, The Quiet Man (my Pappy Jack's favorite...he loved Maureen O'Hara almost as much as he loved Marilyn Monroe), Beach Blanket Bingo, all of the Elvis movies, I think you get the idea.

As a teenager I was all about The X Files. I wanted to be both Mulder and Scully and I would think about them often, as though they were friends of mine I could call up for an adventure.

During that same time I began to revisit the movies of my childhood, movies that my brother and I loved and chatted about over dinners of grilled cheese and tomato soup (rye bread and swiss cheese...yum yum yum). Indiana Jones was my hero, followed closely by Hans Solo. I'm not sure if I ever realized that they were both Harrison Ford, but later while naming my children I thought of both Harrison and Indiana seriously. Ghostbusters was by far my brother's favorite. He would watch and rewind it so many times that the picture became fuzzy and the screen would have several skipping lines for the whole duration of the movie. He would giggle insanely at the Stay Puff Marshmellow Man and his joy was infectious at times, annoying at others.

As a parent I would introduce these movies and more like them to my children. I was full of excitement the first time Rose and I watched The Labyrinth and overjoyed when she loved it. After the second viewing the novelty of my talking along with the script of the movie wore off and she insisted I would have to be silent for the whole thing or she would refuse to watch it with me. She was not as impressed with the Princess Bride as I thought she would be, she fell asleep during Krull (yes KRULL!) and cried during The Neverending Story (the sad Child Empress and the scene with Atreyu and the mud were just too much for her).

I had planned on writing all about the movies that I fell in love with as an adult, but I am currently distracted by 16 and pregnant. I hate this show, but can't help watching it. I wish I could just jump through the screen and give these little girls a hug and help them with their new babies. Having a newborn and caring for a baby is hands down the hardest thing I've ever done in my life and I can't imagine doing that at such a tender age.

Although I was not much older than these girls when I had Rosey, there seems to be a huge gap between my life at 16 and my life at 20. That gap can never be given back to these teens. Their lives have been changed in ways they don't even fathom before they have even had a chance to go to college, date out of high school, have an occupation or experience real life.

What a change of topic. My love of movies somehow morphed into crying over some super dumb MTV show. Babies having babies is what the show should be called. Stupid MTV...