Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor | Tags: 1980s, adulthood, humor, Middle-Age, mindfulness, music, songs, teens
Whenever Hubby and I go on a road trip we like to listen to podcast called “The Moth.” In this podcast regular people share true stories along a single theme. This weekend the theme was how music shapes or affects your life.
I started thinking and realized I have several pivotal memories that had songs associated with them. To this day, they can dredge up what I was feeling at that time.
When I was 12, I had a huge crush on a boy at my school named John. We were at that awkward age where we still wanted to play, ride bikes together and climb trees. But somewhere between pretending we were the Duke boys and the middle of 6th grade, things changed. By the time the first middle school dance rolled around, I was head over heels. On the night of the dance I shimmied on my Jordache jeans that were way out of my newly-divorced mom’s budget, smeared on some purple eye shadow because I read it accentuated green eyes, and drew what I thought were dramatic black circles around my eyes with eyeliner. I’m pretty sure I looked like a raccoon in drag.
When the first notes of Purple Rain came over the gymnasium speakers, I looked for John and my heart dropped into my shoes. My beloved was dancing with my friend Becca. Then they were kissing – French kissing, no less! I literally felt my heart break, and today I still hate Purple Rain with a passion.
A year later at a 7th grade co-ed party, several of us were sitting in a circle playing the obligatory game of Spin the Bottle (I have no idea where the parents were). I hadn’t had my first real kiss yet, and butterflies were jumping on a trampoline in my stomach. REO Speedwagon’s “I Can’t Fight This Feelin’ Any Longer” was playing softly in the background. Finally, I looked down – the bottle was pointing at me! A boy named David, who had braces just like me, came in for the kiss. It was just what you would expect: spitty, messy and completely unappealing. But I had crossed over some invisible threshold, and REO Speedwagon was with me. It’s also not a current favorite.
All through high school, songs and bands marked various events. U2 was a date with Colin; Echo & the Bunnymen played during rides to school in John McGarity’s car; Free Bird signified The First Time (of course it did); The Cars were a beach party; The Clash and Erasure carried me through summers lifeguarding; Blister in the Sun was every party in the woods; and, the Red Hot Chili Peppers were the summer after graduation.
Then I started thinking about what our song is. Hubby and I have tried a few times over the last 30 years to identify one, but no single song has ever really stuck. Bad Company drove with us on road trips to the mountains; PM Dawn carried us up and down 95; Poison by Bel Biv DeVoe kept us dancing ‘til the wee hours at the clubs in Bermuda, and Carbon Leaf has stayed with us from college to the present.
I realized we don’t have just one song that’s ours because we’ve changed and grown up along with the music we listen to. It makes sense now why my 50th birthday playlist was so long. That’s a lot of big moments, and music was more often than not a large part of them.
If you have a lot of songs that bring that old anxiety, joy, relaxation, or nostalgia back, consider yourself lucky – it’s proof you were in the moment. Choose your next songs carefully – you never know what feelings will become entwined with them.
Our memories may be faulty, but the songs stay true.
Thanks for indulging me on my trip down memory lane!
Filed under: Middle Age, Misc. Humor, Parenting | Tags: adulthood, children, family, graduation, high school, humor, kids, Middle-Age, mom, parenting, parents, Seniors, south, southern, subourbonmom, teenagers, teens
As the end of Daughter #1’s Senior Year approaches, the final sprint towards final exams, AP tests, and Senior Project has begun. Not to mention prom, graduation, college selection, and the never-ending game of Senior Assassin (more on this later). For Seniors this means tearing themselves away from watching vines and shopping for prom dresses and studying for exams, throwing together last-minute power point presentations and agonizing over roommate selection. 
For parents this means panicking when you realize you never ordered graduation announcements, approving and paying for the last prom and graduation dresses, and deciding how to celebrate this momentous of times – do we have a keg at the party for the adults or not?
It also means attending the Senior project presentations. At our school, Senior Project is a year-long process involving learning a new skill or challenging yourself in a new way (like learning to make cheese, hatching and raising chickens, trying to understand the lyrics to Rhianna’s songs, etc.), documenting it, doing a research paper, and presenting the whole thing in front of a small group of parents and teachers.
As I sat there watching these impressive young adults show how they started their own yoga classes, created scholarships, ran half-marathons, published their own international blog on Russian politics and even learned how to fly fish, I wondered What the hell have I been doing with my life?
I was impressed and depressed all at the same time. These young people were avidly exploring new ideas, challenging themselves and getting out of their comfort zones in ways that many adults never will.
Thank goodness these kids will be in charge of me when I finally become an adult.
I was depressed because I took an inventory of my recent years and realized I haven’t done much in the way of challenging myself other than to start a new job. Somehow I don’t think trying new food at the local Iranian restaurant counts.
And then I realized that my Senior Project isn’t done yet. I’m still researching how to raise successful women on a daily basis. I’m nearly always out of my comfort zone. My PowerPoint presentation is currently still housed in my laptop under “Pictures” and in the copies of report cards and assignments I’ve kept over the years. And, I present my project in front of my parents every time they visit or call.
I don’t know what my final grade will be, but I’m no longer depressed. I’m more and more impressed with my project every day.
Now if I could just figure out how to cite all those parenting how-to websites I’ve visited over the years.
Filed under: Parenting, Posts | Tags: adulthood, children, Colleges, English, family, grammar, high school, humor, Juan, kids, language, Middle-Age, mom, parenting, south, southern, subourbonmom, teenagers, teens, Universities
There are times when every parent worries about their kids—not because of grades, or because they play a sport, but because sometimes they say things that just make you shake your head and wonder how they managed to live this long.
Daughter #1 and I were sitting at the kitchen table the other night, pouring over the stack of college brochures she’d brought home. We finally got down to the last three. She was leaning in close, looking at the brochure for a big university down South—which I encouraged because neither she nor I have any interest in going father north than where we are right now.
I asked her, “So what is it about that school that makes you want to go there?’
Daughter #1 glanced up at me, leaving her finger on the picture of a girl sitting on a green lawn with a book in her lap. “Look Mom, I’d wear that outfit. She looks like me.”
Seriously, that was her answer.
Not to be deterred by her answer, I asked why she was looking at another southern school.
“I like red.” she answered.
Sigh….and that’s how a teenager with a 4.5 GPA decides how to spend thousands of dollars on their education.
But I don’t know what we’ll do when they’re out of the house. How will I survive without conversations like the following?
Daughter #2, Daughter #1 and I were all sitting at said kitchen table, when Daughter #1 started making fun of how Daughter #2 says some words. “Milk” is pronounced melk, and she says I Juan instead of “I won.”
Daughter #1: “You do too say it that way. Juan is a Hispanic boy’s name.”
Daughter #2: “No I don’t.”
Me: “Actually, you do.”
Daughter #2: “Mom!”
Me: “But I think you’re not saying Juan, you’re saying wan, which actually means looking all washed out.” I tried an example: “You look wan today.”
Daughter #1 and Daughter #2 just stared at me, used to my random insertion of pointless facts into conversations. Sometimes they’re even true.
Daughter #2 thought about it for a second. “That’s one of those words that sounds like what it means.”
Daughter #1: “Yeah, like faaaaaat. Or thin.”
Daughter #2: “It’s an onomatopoeia.”
Me: “No, onomatopoeia is a word that is a sound, like Bang. ‘Wan’ isn’t a sound.”
Daughter #2 looked deflated.
Daughter #1: “C’mon, Mom, let her have it.” She looked at her sister. “Good job! You Juan!”
Filed under: Parenting, Posts | Tags: adulthood, driving, family, humor, kids, Marriage, Middle-Age, mom, parenting, south, southern, subourbonmom, teenagers, teens
Wow–times have changed in our house. The conversations have moved from questions like, “Mommy, are unicorns real?” to “Mom, did you ever smoke weed when you were in high school?”
That question alone has sent many a parent into a tailspin. Add to that the following recent family conversations, and you begin to see why bourbon’s calming effects are…welcome.
Yesterday, my newly-minted driver, Daughter #1, went to Whole Foods after soccer practice and got some chocolate milk for herself and her sister. After deciding it tasted good at first, like butter or melted ice cream, apparently it wasn’t so hot at the finish.
Daughter #2: “It tasted kind of like udders.”
Hubby: “How do you know what udders taste like?”
Me (to myself…): Oh no…
Daughter #2: “I harken back to my youth.”
An actual, recent road trip conversation:
On a road trip in the car, Hubby decided to pass the time (briefly–he learns quickly) by beating out the rhythm of a song on the top of my exposed thigh.
Me: “Just so you know, it’s really not cool to play the drums on your wife’s thigh fat.”
Daughter #1 (in the backseat): “I know! He does it to me too!”
Hubby (to Daughter #1): “Yeah, but yours is all muscle. It makes a different sound.”
Me: GLARE
And finally, after Daughter #2 owned up to lying to one of her teachers last year, Daughter #1 couldn’t stand it:
Daughter #1: Mom, you laughed when Daughter #2 told her teacher she had a disease so she could wear her short shorts to school, but you got mad when I told my teacher I couldn’t turn in my homework because the printer was broken when it wasn’t. That’s so not fair!
Daughter #2: It wasn’t a total lie–I was still getting tested.*
Me: There’s a big difference between lying about not doing your homework and wearing shorts that are too far above the knee, when you’re legs are a mile long.
Daughter #1: (Sighs…) I guess either way you’re going to end up a hooker.
Hubby: True, true.
*(Daughter #2 does not have a disease. She’s fine!)
Filed under: Middle Age, Parenting, Posts, Travel | Tags: adulthood, cars, driving, family, humor, kids, Middle-Age, mom, parenting, parents, road rage, rules of the road, subourbonmom, teenagers, teens, traffic, travel, turn signals
Driving around with brand new teenage drivers, or soon-to-be-drivers can be like hanging out with an alcoholic at a party who’s just gotten back on the wagon. There is an enormous amount of self-righteousness packed into one place.
“Mom, you’re going over the speed limit.”
“Mom, the light turned green. Put your phone down.”
“Mom, I think that policeman is trying to wave you over….mom? Mom? Why have your eyes gone black??”
One of my biggest driving pet peeves is people who don’t use turn signals, especially at stoplights. FYI People—they are not optional or just a courtesy! They are required by law!
I can’t tell you how many drivers have seen me yelling and gesturing (with my windows safely up) as they paused in the middle of the intersection, looking bewildered as everyone waits for them to go straight because they forgot to put their turn signal on.
Daughter #1, our newest licensed driver, is now beginning to understand my frustration, and has come up with some of her own creative descriptions of these drivers, none of which can be printed here.
Daughter #2 however, has more fun pointing out the times when I myself forget to use my signal (as if!), or when, according to her, I wait to long to use it. The other day, we were getting ready to turn onto our street when apparently I didn’t use my signal until too late.
Daughter #1: “You didn’t use your signal, Mom.”
Me: “Yes, I did.”
Daughter #2: “Well, you waited long enough.”
Me: “Don’t mess with me today. It’s too hot.”
Daughter #2: “Why? What are you gonna do?”
Me: “Just–don’t. It’s not worth it.”
Long pause…
Daughter #2: “It’s worth it a little bit.”
Sigh……so please, in the interests of keeping people safe, and because playing chicken in the middle of an intersection isn’t cool, use your turn signals. IN the words of one of my youth group leaders back in the day, WWJD?
Subourbon Mom 