So, I
took the boys to see Freaky Friday today. I am not sure if they wanted to see it
or not, but I really did. (I sort of put it to them like this: “Mom is going to
go see Freaky Friday. You may go or you may stay, but I am leaving at 1:00pm.” I
guess they wanted to go, too, seeing as they were in my car when I went to
leave.) I liked the original movie. I loved this one! There was not one moment
where I didn’t believe that Jamie Lee Curtis was actually the teen in the mom’s
body. She owned that part. No way it would’ve been the same movie without her.
Lindsay Lohan was awesome as well. My boys said it was “okay, for a chick
movie.” (And yes, for the record, I did cry. I am such a sap! But the Mom beside
me did too. So at least I wasn’t the only one embarrassing her kidlets.) Here is
what got me. I vividly remember the original. I remember when I saw it back in
the 70’s, I understood and related to the teenager. “You’re ruining my life. You
could never survive a day in my life. You don’t understand what it is like to be
young.” Today, I watched it and *gasp* I related to the Mom! The multi-tasking,
trying to do the right thing, going a thousand different directions at one time
and (confession time) thinking that it really couldn’t be that hard to be the
kid. Oh, how that realization hit me. I am The Mom. Shhh, please don’t tell
anyone. (Not that anyone would believe you anyway.) Am I the only Mom who feels
that way? Do other Moms suddenly stop in their tracks and think “I am somebody’s
mother??” Well, even if you don’t, there are days when it just shocks the hell
out of me. Let’s just hope I am faking it well enough that the kidlets think I
know what I am doing. I mean, hey, if I am playing the role of The Mom well
enough to fool them, then I am doing good enough to keep the job title. I am The
Mom.
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GenX writer and storyteller