I did it. I ignored the warnings of those that had gone before me, those that had already traveled to this point of no return. I let my kids watch Frozen.
My nearly four year old twins sat through the whole thing, which was nearly a miracle in itself. It was enough for me to initially think, “This isn’t so bad! Maybe they’re old enough for movies now, maybe we could even go to the theatre!” Initially. Now that Frozen is all my daughter can talk about, I am revising some of my original thoughts.
My son was entertained. My daughter was enthralled. She immediately began referring to herself as “Elsa,” and nonconsensually referring to her brother as “Anna.” She insisted I drape a blanket, secured with a chip-clip, around her shoulders so she could wear a cape. I regularly catch her spinning and singing as she throws imaginary icicles out of her fingers. She wanted cape and long hair, like Elsa, so she put a fitted sheet on her head. Two birds, one stone. Then her brothers thought, “hey that looks fun.” Next thing I know I’ve got Elsa, Anna and Olaf running laps in my hallway.
I’m constantly fielding questions like, “but why is Anna’s hair another color?” Or “why did Elsa run away?” I’m regularly explaining the major plot points to people who have seen the movie at least 4 times. I mean, three years old or thirty, you see a movie 4 times, you shouldn’t have this many questions.
Those questions are at least factual in nature. I have more difficulty answering questions like “Why does Elsa have a cape? When will my hair be yellow like Elsa’s? But where does her magic come from? Why can’t I make snowflakes?” Go ahead, try and explain the answers to those questions to a toddler. Curse you, Frozen! You’ve given us more questions than answers!
If you or your children have had the pleasure of viewing Frozen, then you are well aware of the most profusely problematic side effect; the flesh eating brain mole “Let It Go.” It will burrow a hole into your mind and ironically, you will NOT be able to let it go. It will slip into your mind while you’re driving, you’ll be humming it while you’re making dinner, you will be spinning through the house and singing it dramatically. And then you’ll be left wondering why you were spinning through the house and singing it dramatically.
My daughter asks to watch it on the regular. We don’t watch movies that often, and I feel a bit bad for my son who much prefers other films when the rare opportunity to have a movie night pops up. His twin sister already forces him to pretend he’s Anna to her Elsa, when I’m confident he’d rather be spear tackling her or smashing a tower someone else has built.
It’s my own fault. I assumed my daughter was immune to Disney’s charms, but Frozen is toddler crack and I willingly handed it over to my children. I was never angling for a Mother of the Year award, but I had hoped to protect my children from crippling addictions prior to the age of four.
I’m telling you to do what I could not. What your kids don’t know, can’t hurt them. They won’t know that they “need” an Elsa braid wig. They won’t know that they “need” to watch Frozen whenever they possibly can. You won’t, at age 31, end up singing yourself to sleep to a Disney soundtrack. I’m telling you to just say no. I’m telling you to let it go.