Ode to the Mix Tape

It has just been over a week ago, although now it seems like a lifetime ago (when you are keeping up with two little ones a day can seem like a lifetime somtimes) that I went to go see my sister who happens to live a short seven hour drive from my house. During those seven hours you have some time to think, reflect, and of course, listen to some good music. I was anticipating this longer road trip because I hadn't gotten a real chance to thoroughly enjoy four mix cd's that my four nearest and dearest friends (the Fab Four I like to call them) had sent me from literally across the world. Yes, I had dabbled, but really hadn't had a chance to marinade in these songs as I wanted to.
I don't pretend to have a deep appreciation for music. When I sit with my husband and watch some flashback show about 80's or 90's music I will often hear myself saying "I didn't know that song was from 1987???!! I only heard it for the first time in college."
This doesn't mean that music doesn't touch my heart deeply, it definitely does. Upon hearing "Shameless" I'm taken back to my first dance with my now husband at a college formal, "I Will Survive" and I'm dancing with my college roomates to a routine we made up for the song, and "Stuck in the Middle with You" and I'm in my first car driving home from swim practice with the backseat full of other swimmers. Music just does that to me, and I'm sure I'm not the only one, hence why mix cd's (or back in the day, tapes) have been forever popular. I am proud to say I still have a mix tape from my senior year of high school that my friend made for me and that I have now played for my five and one year-old.
Fast forward to the road trip. I was a little pessimistic about loving these mix cd's that my friends had sent me because they had no memories attached to them, so how was I going to relate or fall in love with these songs the way my friends had? I couldn't have been more wrong.
Suddenly the car got a little fuller as I listened to each of their cd's. As I played the first cd I knew instantly whose cd it was without even looking at the pretty decorated label. I envisioned my friend sitting beside me in the front seat (instead of my diaper bag and a half eaten bag of animal crackers) telling me about listening to this song while sitting in her purple painted living room enjoying a glass of wine. Onto the next cd I could see another member of the Fab Four's hair swaying as she grooved along to a song. And so it went with each cd I listened to...Amazing!
Through the power of music I got a stronger connection of my friends' worlds, maybe even more so than from one of our daily emails. All from a few songs!
My seven hour trip certainly did go by a lot faster and it was nice to not only have my two children along for the ride, but also the Fab Four :)

Oh what a friend we have in Him

"No, Mommy, I'll do it!"
" I'll take her diaper, Mommy!"
" I'll feed her, Mommy."
" I'll choose her outfit for today, Mommy." (This one can be particularly dangerous).
These are all quotes I hear from my oldest nearly everyday. She loves doing things herself, especially when it comes to her role of big sister (a role that she takes very seriously).
It was no different when we would take almost daily walks with the youngest in the stroller before she was a walker. I would insist on holding onto the stroller handles too, but the brunt force of my oldest was sometimes hard to control, so, off we would veer from the smooth concrete sidewalk to the bumpy, sometimes red anthill ridden grass.
On a particular day while trying to be a big girl and do everything herself, my oldest ended up tripping and falling onto the grass (thank goodness not into an anthill) causing tears and a scraped knee. Without hesitation I picked her up and while pushing the stroller headed back on course and back home.
This event has stuck in my mind and I often go back to it when I find myself fighting the here and nows. Why do we live so far from most of our family and friends? Why did that event happen? Why did my husband have such a bad day at work? Why aren't our prayers being answered?
I often think of struggling with my oldest to keep her on the main path of our walks and have realized that my daughter isn't the only one who wants to do everything herself. I often think I have the right answer when it comes to prayers; where we should be right now, and who the people should be surrounding us.
I am sure the Man upstairs sees me much as I see my child, trying with sometimes all my might to do things my way and thinking I know what I'm doing and where the path leads. If only I would give a looser grip and let Him take control of the handles (he has the better view after all) it would be a whole lot easier to stay on course and avoid the anthills of life.
Easier said than done. The good news is though that even when I (or you) trip and fall He doesn't think twice (just like any parent wouldn't) of picking us up and continuing on our walk.

Lady GaGa

Long before the singer came out with "Poker Face" we had a Lady Gaga all our own. My mother is referred to in our family as GaGa, G, or Lady Gaga by her grand girls all stemming from her oldest granddaughter not being able to say Grandma, hence the name stuck. Lady GaGa is clearly the matriarch of our family and lessons learned by her actions tend to just stick with you.
Case in point ~ A couple of weeks ago now my girls and I jetted off to the beach along with my husband who had to travel there for work. Unfortunately hubbie had to go straight to his place of business leaving the girls and I to fend for ourselves with checking into the hotel and carting up all of our luggage (not an overestimation when you have two little ones) up to our room. After three trips to the car and me sweating (literally) from carrying a one year-old while doing this task (and I wonder where the back problems come from) we were all pretty much spent.
The girls looked at me with that "what's next entertainer" kind of look. One key point I have forgotten to mention is that my older one at this point had a bright red arm cast from her hand the WHOLE way up to her shoulder, not very condusive for a beach trip, but we all had our heart's set on going, so here we were.
I quickly went into "what would Lady GaGa do" mode. My mother is a bonafide hostess. My husband's father jokingly calls me "Lady GaGa" when I ask him several times if I can please get him something to drink, or, would he be more comfortable with one more pillow, etc.
In Lady GaGa mode I opened the curtains to the room ("blowing the stink off" as one of my favorite movies says) and marched the girls down the hall to the vending and ice machine. My older one loved being in charge of the ice bucket and pressing the button for our root beer.
Back in the room I spread our beach blanket on the hotel floor and we quickly set up a happy hour (another Lady GaGa must) of cool drinks and snacks. Suddenly the broken arm and tired muscles took a backseat to our picnic and happy hour.
"Can I get you something more to drink, Mama,"said my older one.
Our Lady GaGa may not ever have world fame, but to all of her girls she is nothing less than a superstar.

Burnscat

So everyone (it seems) has a blog these days. Amazing blogs! Blogs about publishing a book, cooking in your first year of marriage, even dealing with the death of your mother. More amazing is these are just a few of my friend's blogs. My friends are a pretty big deal. I have had a big chunk of them since the days when perms and tight rolling jeans (come on you know you did it) were cool. My other chunk of friends I have met via college, teaching, and through my kid's activities. So when I finally got the bug to start my own blog I had thoughts of travel, my children, or my current town being my topic. But each of these topics have the common thread of my friends. Friends that have impacted my opinions, shared my first loves, and know the core me.
So why not start at the very beginning? One of my oldest and dearest friends is affectionately known Buns, Burnscat, or Burnz. I have know this woman (and now wife, professional, and soon to be matron of honor in her sister's wedding) since sharing a locker room with her after swim practice at the age of eight. And since that time (22 years ago) she has taught me immeasurable life lessons. Putting in contact lessons does tack on ten extra minutes of your getting ready time. All things can be put in top ten lists. Knowing where you are at in relation to prisons is important. Be organized. This last one has stuck with me.
In high school Buns would swat my hand away if I would start to draw on her notebook. Her handwriting is perfection and on certain days I try and mimic it in hopes of getting the roundness of her letters in my own writing.
Unfortunately I don't get to see Burnz daily, but when I make a grocery list I categorize by different sections of the store, and when I started to read my magazine in the quiet hours of this morning I carefully folded the page to get a better look at it.
Being organized doesn't come natural to me, but as a stay home mother of two for me it is essential. Thank God that Burnscat came into my life 22 short years ago to teach me the perfect way to make a list, write with ease, and give me a little direction.