I couldn't have cared less about last weekend's Superbowl from an actual football perspective. And repurposed Wisconsin protest video and Ferris Bueller jokes aside, I wasn't particularly interested in any of the ads. But there was no way I was missing the halftime show. Sure, LMFAO has about as much appeal to me as pigskin or a Go Daddy commercial; I never have, and never will be, a "Party Rocker" who "Shuffles."
But can I still "Vogue"? Heck yeah. And I waited patiently through the whole first half for the chance to watch Madonna strut her 53-year-old glory across television's biggest stage. Madge is the unequivocal soundtrack of my young adulthood. "Holiday" and "Lucky Star" were the anthems of my senior year in high school---a turning point when I left Styx and everything Flashdance, including off-the-shoulder sweatshirts, officially behind. I made the transition to lace, quasi-lingerie, dangly earrings and big black hair ribbons quite adroitly; you could have easily called both my look (and musical taste) the summer after freshman year of college Desperately Seeking Sari. And just hearing the first note of "Like a Prayer" last Sunday brought back forever-pleasant memories of late-night clubbing in downtown Chicago with an ID that finally bore both my real name and birth date.
And I feel as though I've hit the musical-memory lane-motherlode this February. Bruce Springsteen is playing on the Grammy's this weekend. I feel a little guilty that I'm not really interested in hearing anything off his new album. My only hope is that he sings just one verse of "Thunder Road." I so wanted to grow up to be "Mary" of the "dress swaying" from the very first time I heard the song blaring from my older brother's record player. Roy Orbison may have been singing for the lonely. But The Boss? He was singing for 9-year-old me.
I am not sure there is a musical score to my life since I've become a parent, though. I vaguely remember "MMMBop" in the background with Son #1----VH1 was my best friend during 3 AM power-nursing sessions. And I'm pretty sure it was Avril Lavigne who dominated the airwaves driving back and forth to my newborn daughter's non-stop pediatrician appointments in the summer of 2002. But on the whole, whether I've been too busy, too distracted or too disinterested, I couldn't tell you much about popular music from the past fourteen years.
But it occurred to me that there's nothing keeping from me from a creating an original "parenthood" playlist. I could easily come up with an audio scrapbook that links favorite tunes from my glory days with important stages from my Mom-life. The first couple tracks could be labor and delivery oriented---think Salt-n-Pepa's "Push It", the Ramone's "I Wanna Be Sedated" or Diana Ross' "I'm Coming Out." These would be followed up by tunes inspired from my kids' first years, possibly the Talking Heads' "Stay Up Late", Tom Petty's "Crawling Back to You" or NKOTB "Step by Step." Elementary school could be captured with, to state the obvious, The Jackson Five's "ABC." Or, if you'd seen me the day my youngest started kindergarten, Melissa Manchester's "Don't Cry Out Loud."
I could go on forever"and that's not necessarily a good thing. But if you have any suggestions to accompany the tumultuous tween and teen years, just let me know. Some days I feel like Green Day's "Good Riddance" sums it up perfectly.
And other days I'm all "Cat's in the Cradle." Because I'm not always ready for them to be "Growin' Up" (Springsteen, Greetings From Asbury Park, 1973).comments powered by Disqus
Like many parents, I look at the wide world around my kids and do my best to prepare them for life. We talk about working hard, being kind and responsible, Internet safety, stranger danger, and the (gulp) birds and the bees. But what about a topic such as race?
If you're like me, looking around your house in the weeks before Christmas will probably have you convinced that the last thing your kids need to find underneath the tree is a pile of new toys.
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I've always been a supporter of companies that empower women and girls, and when the creator of such a company is a fellow Wisconsinite, I get even more excited. When Melissa Wardy of Janesville got fed up with stereotypes found in clothing for girls, she started her own company.
Do you have a little reader or an aspiring teenaged writer in your house? If so, you may want to venture to the Wisconsin Book Festival this weekend, to whet their appetite for wonderful words as well as your own.
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At age 10 months, my kids have seen the zoo a lot already. I was a zoology major in college, and I have something of a zoo addiction still, so the twins (and their dad) are more or less condemned to a future rife with zoo visits.
Home-schooling can be a lonely proposition. Even as a college professor, Juliana Hunt remembers struggling to find support to home-school her now-grown daughter. "I was always hoping to find like-minded people who were in the same position as me," she says. "I know that children learn best through a give-and-take, question-and-answer process of teaching and learning, but where do you find mentors who can make that happen?"
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As far as places to embark on Baby's First Air Travel go, Dane County Regional Airport is a pretty sound choice, especially at 6 p.m. on a Saturday night. My biggest fear was that my nine-month-old son would start screaming in the airport; my second biggest fear was that my son would start screaming and some of my former Epic colleagues would be around to hear it.
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Lily the potbellied pig arrived at Heartland Farm Sanctuary blind, lethargic and too overweight to walk. The children of Heartland's summer day camp program took it upon themselves to put the curl back in her tail.