In a Twilight-Induced Haze

After years of resisting, I have finally fallen prey to the Twilight series.  Which is ridiculous – I mean, what am I – 33 13?  I would actually be too ashamed to publicly write about this addiction, but for the fact that one of the reasons I caved is that I was among the minority in my 30-something mommy group for having not read the books.  Before I started reading this series, I was perplexed by critics’ assessments that the books were not particularly well written, but total page turners – an appraisal that turned out to be right on target.   The former bothered me for the first couple of chapters, but I was soon flipping pages so fast it didn’t matter.

I totally get the PG-attraction for teenage girls – it’s a suspenseful, page-turning melodramatic love story that Mom and Dad can’t really object to, because while there is an underlying current of sexual themes, nothing ever really happens (at least in the first three books – I’m waiting to get my hands on number four because I haven’t parented my children in a week).

And this is attractive to 30-year old moms who are old enough to have sex and read/watch actual porn because WHY?

Here’s my own personal reasoning:

The Twilight series is the perfect material for summer beach reading, of which there is not a whole lot out there right now.  With all of the current economic and political turmoil in the real world, who really wants to read nonfiction?  Conversely, most fiction targeted towards grown women is mawkish and exhausting, tackling complex family dynamics and emotions that we deal with on a daily basis as grownups.   Even the “funny” ones are draining because they all have an air of authenticity (exhausted mom misses career, husband, and her “old self” as she wallows in self pity and baby vomit).  Why would we want to read about these problems when we live them?    

That leaves one literary category left that I can read without wanting to jump off a bridge – Brain Candy.  And the romance novels that I loved as a college student aren’t doing it for me anymore.  After all – I’m married and can pretty much have sex anytime I want to.

Vampire love is safe.  It’s not real and it can’t happen.  I say this despite the fact that reading the books does leave you feeling like anyone you happen to encounter with exceptionally pale skin and gorgeous bone structure MAY, in fact, be a real life vampire.  We love Twilight for some of the same reasons we loved Harry Potter (although I’m sure JK Rowling detests the comparisons) and Lord of the Rings – it’s fantasy that whisks us away from our sometimes-depressing reality to a world where anything is possible.

Personally, there’s something about the thrill of the hunt that I loved in these books.  Once Edward and Bella professed their love for each other in the second half of Twilight, I’ll admit that I lost interest a little.  In fact, someone should let my husband (who never reads my writing) know that I would find him much hotter if he refused to have sex with me once in awhile.  

Fortunately, the introduction of Jacob salvaged the series for me and I was hooked enough to continue.  Unfortunately, my professed alliance with Team Jacob may cost me a few die-hard mom friends in carpool line who are solidly in Edward’s corner.  But that’s the way the cookie crumbles sometimes when you’re 13 33.

An original Deep South Moms blog post. When she's not feeding her vampire obsession, Cara writes about parenting her three boys on Baby Bunching and at The Fox Factor.