It may come as a surprise to you that I. LOVE. MUSIC. Okay, maybe not. When I was a young mom I was going through a slight postpartum cuckoo phase. I was conflicted, what kind of mom was I that I didn't want to listen to Raffi or Barney sing in my car whilst towing little ones about. But I felt my life was no longer my own and music was the only thing I could still control. The only thing that was still all mine. And in all seriousness, I don't think your kids care what kind of music it is and it won't stunt them cerebrally if they don't sing The Wheels on the Bus while driving about suburban Utah. So I had my music to sooth my troubled soul. Well that and Phil Hartman making me laugh on News Radio. (Laughter is right up there with music too.) I seriously mourned that guy's death a little when his wife tragically shot him.
Not to say I didn't give the kids a good dose of kiddie songs. Isabella had a Barney dinosaur that was about two feet tall with arms that moved as he sang. The three of us (me, Isabella and Barney) could belt out a medley of top 40 toddler hits like no one else. There was also my own medley to all three of my kids when they were babies of You are My Sunshine, Carpenters, Close to You and Beetles, Obladi Oblada. I could so rock that medley. So clearly, my kids were in good hands musically speaking.
Now it is so cool to see my girls enjoying their instruments. Zoe makes a great tormented pianist. She reminds me sometimes of that Muppet pianist on Sesame Street who always freaked out and banged his head against the piano when he couldn't get it right. (I kind of loved that guy.) But eventually she does get it and she is really enjoying it. Isabella gave up piano and moved on to guitar. I can't tell you how proud I was to hear her tell me after class the other day that her teacher said she was the winner of the best chord playing for Smells Like Teen Spirit. (Or how thrilled I was to find a teacher who teaches songs from musicians like Nirvana, Green Day and Bob Dylan.) Okay, she's only been in this class for a month but a mom can still be proud. I am more than a little jealous she is taking this class. Someday I'll make time to get back to learning the guitar.
So I love music, all around my house, in my car; I wonder when the day will come that my kids shame me enough into getting me to stop singing along. It was easier when they couldn't sit in the front seat. Now I'm getting a little self conscious, and I feel I should share the radio every once in a while. Not a fan of hip hop and the other music they play on that station but I can share (a little). I love seeing my favorite artists play in person too. I'd go to a concert every month if I could but that's not really practical. Last weekend Brent and I went to see They Might Be Giants again. They are just so much fun. Not quite the musical genius Ben Folds is but tons of fun and lyrics that are like goofy, profound poetry. I asked Brent if he minds me dragging him to these things. His reply was, I don't want to go out when I'm at home, then I get there and have a good time, then after about an hour I'm done and tired of standing. Well at least there is room for compromise in there somewhere. He was pleasantly surprised last week because Jonathon Coulton was the opening act. I said, who is Jonathon Coulton? Oh, he played some songs on John Hodgman's book on tape, he replies. Aaaa-hah! Now it makes sense. Well, no it doesn't really because a book on tape doesn't usually have a musical guest. Anyway, he turned out to be sort of a folk singing sci-fi geek sort of performer. How can that not be entertaining?
Funny how a song can sound beautiful, disturbing and funny all at once.
