Dear Prudence

Oh the why’s are here.  With a vengeance.  I envisioned myself greeting this stage with a welcome smile.  Never tiring of answering.  I would not feel any muscles tense at the never-ending string of why’s that take up the majority of my day answering.  But alas, life is real and that was just a fantasy.  The why’s are at times so humorous I can’t contain myself, sometimes so inquisitive I need the help of old man google, but truth be told many times end in a sigh… because I really don’t know or my brain just doesn’t work as fast as this little man of mine’s does.

Yesterday I was listening to an oldie but goodie, The White Album.  When Dear Prudence came on a flash of memory went through my  mind.  I recalled asking my Dad, “Whats he singing about?” and I just had to smile. This exact question is often a topic of conversation these days.  (I remember quite often dissecting each and every song that came on the radio… In retrospect I can imagine the tiresomeness of this interest from my parents point of view)  But regardless, my dad answered me without so much as a blink of an eye.  He explained it was because perhaps she was truly sad?  So we sat there at our kitchen counter, in the light of the morning sun, just listening to the fab four.  Loving it.

This is a beauty of a song.  Is it not?  So uplifting and inspiring.  Each time I feel caught in the doldrums if I can muster up this tune in my memory it always makes me feel better if not just outright good.

This whole monologue in my mind reminded me of the importance of answering these seemingly endless journey of why’s.  And not just responding but actually coming up with a valid answer.  Sure, there is no way to actually do this every single time.  I would surely go hoarse.  But to give it an honest effort is absolutely worth the time.  Because if I can remember this event from so many years ago, and today this song means so much to me, it must be worth it.

Look around

How on earth could you not ask a million question?

For the sake of my memory

Oh yes, I struggle with parenting my almost three-year old.  Daily.  He has quite the mind of his own, which I am proud of despite the difficulties that go along with that!  He knows just what buttons to press to push me right off the deep end, but hey that is an observant little boy right?

But truth is, I love every little quirk about this fellow.  He is so loving its unbelievable, he is hilarious and so smart, he is kind and so very much fun to be around.  I can’t believe how big he is drawing circles and reciting the tale of the three billy goats gruff and what not.  He puts his dishes in the dishwasher!  He greets the hen’s with a “Good morning ladies!  What did you dream about?”.

These milestones never occurred to me as being something to mark, but so far? to date they are my favorite.

So as a little keepsake I decided to just list out some of his favorites these days.

A surprising folk-y little lady, but of course the subject matter of swimming must help. Laura Marling -Alas I Cannot Swim-

Ah my mama will be so proud.  Stevie Wonder Sir Duke

I use to love this song.  At the ripe age of two my little man already has the ability to drive his parents mad listening to a song over and over again.  This one is a constant.  The Lumineers Hey Ho  (I should add he even loves to watch this video.  Each time it ends he grins from ear to ear and says with a laugh, “They were havin’ fun.”

“Mommy. Sing you are my shunshine.”, is a daily fare at nap time.  This is a kid song from a tolerable kid singer (some of them can be just plain old weird don’t you think?) Of course the original intent for this song is very sad, I just try to not think of that.  Elizabeth Mitchell’s You are my sunshine.

And last but not least, my boys go nuts with a little old school punk (with a good message!) Operation Ivy Healthy Body

And for the books.  Miles doesn’t typically hold one title over another.  He really does love them all.   He is a “reading” machine.  Don’t little kids have the coolest memories?  They are so incredibly sharp.  He can recite word for word several dozen books.  It is fun to have him read to me.  So, for lack of knowledge of the true favorites for the moment, I will just list five that he is really into at the moment.

1. Helicopters

2. Little Bear’s Friend

3. Splat the Cat

4. I Lost my Tooth in Africa

5. And of Course, even in the heat of July, How the Grinch stole christmas

some things never change

 

Five years ago I was living in a one bedroom apartment.  Staying up far too late, past the hour where most would have woken.  Where I dare to say I was not careful with my body.  With my mind.  My money.  My car.  Just about anything.  My friends and I would sit around and talk about nothing which of course felt like everything.  One of my most poignant yet blurry memories of this time was when a friend and I thought it was a beyond brilliant idea to paint my bathroom…  with our whole bodies.  With acrylics.  It was quite extraordinary until like all good artwork we over did it.  We got carried away and scribbled words all over the walls and the tub.  We smeared all the colors until it was a black greasy mess.  Every door nob, every carpet, and every chair (oh wait I didn’t have any of those) was covered in paint.

Me and these people I was so lucky to call mine, use to arrive at the restaurant we all worked at early in the morning (you know like ten) and rejoice at another day working near a juke box.  We would unload our pockets and play whatever we felt like, which was very commonly Fiona Apple or somehow that song that went,  “I’m in love with a stripper”.  Setting up those tables, amidst a smoke-filled room, with thoughts of last nights shenanigans fresh in our mind was not so much of a chore after all, not with our girl serenading us the whole time.  Not one bit.

Five years ago at this very moment only a few things truly remain the same in my life; my coffee intake and a new Fiona apple album just came out.  And once again, it god damn rocks.  That woman.  If I were more of a romantic I would think she was speaking directly to me.  Her voice is incapable of sounding bad, even when it’s all gargled and snarly.  Her confidence and lack of it mix up to this amazingly uncomfortable and awkward personality that I very much can relate to.  Some things never change.