Recently, I had a revelation. When I was 15, music was my world. My 10 favorite bands defined who I was and all my class notes had lyrics to my favorite songs in the margins.
It was what made me happy. Today a lot of things make me happy. Hearing Lily singing to herself in her room every morning. Watching my kids stretch their hands between the carseats to hold hands while I drive. Nursing a baby to sleep each night. Being proud of my husband. Being good at what I do. Knowing what I want to be when I grow up, and that I'm already there.
But somewhere along the way, music lost it's place in my daily routine. It's no surprise I've felt a little something was missing.
I listen to music, sure.. I play the radio when I run errands. We have live music at our restaurant 6 days a week. But that is a lifetime away from sitting on the floor of my 15 year old selfs bedroom, twinkly lights around all the windows, listening to Dashboard Confessional, Alkaline Trio, The Ataris and Death Cab For Cutie and feeling like "yes. someone gets it" someone knows what it's like to love so much it hurts. someone gets what its like to angst about how amazing this life is. someone else lives in the moment. someone else wrote a song for this moment.
so I reintroduced music. I dragged a beat up old cd player down to my grooming salon. I listen to my ipod while I learn how to cook. and Voila, a little bit of the silly 15 year old comes back. The girl who had to blast NOFX's "linoleum" while installing linoleum with her friends (even if it meant hours of listening to one song on repeat)
Somehow, I'm a mother to a four year old daughter, but I let her get hot pink extensions in her hair today. I listen to Save Ferris while I run payroll. I can do both. I can be both.
Back to payroll. (but i'm keeping my pandora radio running in the background, gosh darnit)
It was what made me happy. Today a lot of things make me happy. Hearing Lily singing to herself in her room every morning. Watching my kids stretch their hands between the carseats to hold hands while I drive. Nursing a baby to sleep each night. Being proud of my husband. Being good at what I do. Knowing what I want to be when I grow up, and that I'm already there.
But somewhere along the way, music lost it's place in my daily routine. It's no surprise I've felt a little something was missing.
I listen to music, sure.. I play the radio when I run errands. We have live music at our restaurant 6 days a week. But that is a lifetime away from sitting on the floor of my 15 year old selfs bedroom, twinkly lights around all the windows, listening to Dashboard Confessional, Alkaline Trio, The Ataris and Death Cab For Cutie and feeling like "yes. someone gets it" someone knows what it's like to love so much it hurts. someone gets what its like to angst about how amazing this life is. someone else lives in the moment. someone else wrote a song for this moment.
so I reintroduced music. I dragged a beat up old cd player down to my grooming salon. I listen to my ipod while I learn how to cook. and Voila, a little bit of the silly 15 year old comes back. The girl who had to blast NOFX's "linoleum" while installing linoleum with her friends (even if it meant hours of listening to one song on repeat)
Somehow, I'm a mother to a four year old daughter, but I let her get hot pink extensions in her hair today. I listen to Save Ferris while I run payroll. I can do both. I can be both.
Back to payroll. (but i'm keeping my pandora radio running in the background, gosh darnit)
This is something that I struggle with all the time when I think about becoming more of an adult, a teacher, a parent...etc. I want to hold on to who I am. I'm glad you're doing the same!
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