Fake It 'Til You Make It

For me, it was the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.

I was seven, and I had a hot, maybe forbidden copy of the cassette duped from my Auntie R. who would have been 20 at the time. I adored her and probably told her she was pretty 300 times in order to get my hands on that music.

I would lay on my bedroom floor in the basement, my hand-me-down cassette player that was my own Mama's, plugged into the wall. I would position myself on my stomach, chin on hands, and listen to Dirty Dancing overandoverandoverandover, repeat.

My only mission was to learn every single word of every single song. Before I burnt the reels out of the Maxwell-brand tape that is ... which I eventually did. I later managed to acquire a legitimate copy of the album on tape, and I already knew every chord and didn't need to lay on my floor with my finger prone over the rewind button. I had succeeded in my quest. It didn't prevent me from then buying the CD when I found it in the bargain bin at Sam Goody (oh you guys! The amount of money I spent at Sam Goody!) as a teenager. Nostalgia like whoa.

For her, it will be Beyonce's Single Ladies. And it will include the dance routine from the video.

Kids these days.

At this point in her nearly six years of life, I had estimated I/we have read my daughter 3,650 books. At one bedtime last week, the Lil' Dude, after having Single Ladies stuck her in head all evening, asked if she could listen to that song on my iPod instead of listening to a story. I completely rocked her face off when I one-upped her with the offer of watching the video on YouTube instead.

There.
Are.
Videos?

Mind: BLOWN

Sometimes parenthood is so freaking cool.

So along with Beyonce, she chose Alicia Keys' Girl on Fire (girl power!) and because she's her Mama's daughter, FloridaGeorgia Line's Cruise.

And we have ourselves a new little bedtime routine. She keeps track of the songs she wants to listen to each night on little Post-It's ... Lorde's Royals, Macklemore's Thrift Shop (holy explicit lyrics, Batman), Katy Perry's Roar, AWOLNATION'S Sail, and Single Ladies on repeat. Just her and I gather in her bedroom in the pitch black, door shut, and I push play on YouTube at max volume, three songs each night.

Okay, maybe four if you count Beyonce twice. After all, it's her main goal in life to memorize the lyrics AND the dance ... just as mine was with that soundtrack in 1987. I keep telling her she has to fake it until she makes it ... that one day, (much to her Daddy's complete and utter horror), she will be Beyonce in the black Lycra complete with the robot hand.

Word {From} Your Mama

No Regrets

We just returned from a lazy weekend at my parents'- the Lil' Dude's Grandparents of the North. A long few days spent hunting for leaves and caterpillars, running hills with the dogs, building pink Legos, drinking copious amounts of coffee, having free reign over the candy drawer, and sleeping in. Best. Days. Ever. It's one of the few places in my orbit that recharges my batteries no matter how long I'm docked there.

Yesterday, we were all seated around the dining room table eating our Sunday Supper departure meal- roast beef, gravy, mashed potatoes, white dinner rolls, corn, and garden-fresh tomatoes and peppers. My Mom had already remarked that she didn't cook any kid food all weekend- no Velveeta Shells & Cheese, no pickle roll-ups, no crustless jam sandwiches, no turkey dogs. The Lil' Dude ate Chicken Fricassee, Last Turn Chili, smoked salmon from Alaska, and extra-sharp cheddar cheese from Green Bay just like the grownups. It was monumental.

But as we sat down yesterday, she began to whine about her roast beef ... It's too tough. I can't do it. I don't like it. When in reality, it was fork-tender. Buttery. Perfect. So my Dad said, "Eat your potatoes and everything else," and let his only grandbaby off the hook.

When I was a kid, I refused to eat meat. I declared everything as too tough, I don't like tough meat, and that became my mantra. I wrote about it in school; my teachers mentioned it at conferences, my friends' parents and extended families commented on it and harassed me about it endlessly.

So, 30 years later, it's only natural my child would utter the same mantra.
Only this time, she gets a free pass.

My Dad mentioned yesterday, "It's true. Children's teeth and palates cannot tolerate meat. They lack the jaw strength. I know that now. In fact, that's my only regret in parenting- that I made you sit at the dinner table and eat everything off your plate, meal after meal, night after night. My only regret."

I questioned his claim. His only regret in parenting? And he confirmed it. With vigor.

And that- that right there, is why I hold him in the highest regard, truly idol-status category of parenthood. That something as inconsequential as dinnertime rules would be his only do-over. Especially when I take into consideration the other stuff I thought was bigger, and more regrettable.

He made me learn how to change my own oil, and tires.
He made me take Calc.
And gun safety.
He bought me a brand new car for Sweet Sixteen.
(that I totaled 4 months later)
He also bought my baby brother a brand new car for his Sweet Sixteen even though his experiment with that was ill-fated.
He let my high school boyfriend come over All. The. Time.
He made me save 75% of each paycheck I earned ... in my savings account.
He was brutally honest about my hair. Shoes. Tattoos. Piercings; the gamut.
And still loved me.
He paid for my entire college education.
And made me graduate in four years.
He never took me to Disney World.
He let me move in with my college boyfriend.
And paid off my credit card debt.
He let me travel to far-off places, and gave me souvenir money.
He let me take his truck to country music festivals as a minor.
He made us sit down to dinner as a family as many night of the weeks as possible.
He made me own my mistakes and failures and lies and shame.
And still loved me.
He still corrects me. And educates me. And holds me accountable.
And has me proof-read his business communication, and program his new Smartphones.

I know when I go to sleep each night, I have regrets on the day regarding my daughter. Something I did. Or didn't. Or mishandled. Or ignored. Or fell short, overreacted, failed, botched, denied. Every single day, my heart pumps diesel into every chamber of her life, and I do it wrong. But that's OK. That's incredibly human. And very Mama. It's what we do ... it's doing it without regrets that truly matters.

And I hope, with every feather I have, that 30 years from now I can sit at the dining room table in my life and pick out something very, very small that spanned a few years of time, as my only regret in parenting. I have a good example to follow.

Wordless Wednesday

Word {From} Your Mama

The Interview // Age 5

1. What is your favorite color? 
Umm, pink. Blue. And purple. And red. And orange. That's all my colors.

2. What is your favorite toy?
Palace Pets.

3. What is your favorite fruit? 
What's that orange stuff again? Cantaloupe. 

4. What is your favorite tv show? 
Umm, Ninja Turtles.

5. What is your favorite thing to eat for lunch? 
Umm, macaroni and cheese. You knew that!

6. What is your favorite outfit? 
Ummm, is ... what I weared for picture day. 

7. What is your favorite game? 
Umm, tag with E.

8. What is your favorite snack? 
Cheez-Its.

9. What is your favorite animal? 
Umm horses.

10. What is your favorite song? 
Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star

11. What is your favorite book? 
Ummm, the farm book about horses from Auntie A.

12. Who is your best friend? 
E. 

13. What is your favorite cereal? 
Guess. Frosted Flakes. 

14. What is your favorite thing to do outside? 
Ummm ... go swinging at school. Used to be at daycare, but now school.

15. What is your favorite drink? 
Gatorade. Blue.

16. What is your favorite holiday? 
Winter.

17. What do you like to take to bed with you at night? 
My sweet NaNa and Rattle-Girl. 

18. What is your favorite thing to eat for breakfast? 
The things that I have at Kay's Kitchen- hashbrowns and sausage.

19. What do you want to have for dinner on your birthday? 
My favorite dinner- actually, pizza.

20. What do you want to be when you grow up?
A teacher. 

Watch Dog

It's funny, the things in life you don't account for. Like the feelings and unconditional love of a Girl's Best Friend ... which I always thought were diamonds, since I am an April baby- it being my birthstone and all. But a Girl's Best Friend is her Beagle. Unrequited, unrivaled, and unreal.

For the past five-plus years, The Beagle has always seen the Lil' Dude leaving with her parents, safely buckled in as the kennel door closes and garage door comes down. There was peace with that I assume; and on the rare days or weeks where the adults returned home sans girl, there was plenty of looking and sniffing for her, a general discontentment settled at the top of the stairs until that tiny human of his returned.

Yesterday, day two of kindergarten was very, very unsettling for The Beagle. In Tuesday's flurry of activity, I guess we just didn't notice- we both left the house and locked him up after the school bus headed past. Yesterday, he witnessed the whole damn thing- how that giant, yellow monstrosity swallowed up this tiny human just as the sun was rising.

And this is where her beloved watch dog perched for the day- from 7am until 2:30pm - in the hot, hot sun, eyes glued to the corner where it all went down. That in dog years, is like, 14 days or some nonsense. But I couldn't get him to budge a damn inch.

(And all those hot tears I was so proud not to spill Tuesday pour, pour, poured down my face yesterday as I tried to assure the little beast she would come back)

Their reunion at the end of the long day was Hallmark Channel-esque. They both deserved Grammy's or Oscar's or both.

Today, he was much better. He insisted on being leashed to go with to retrieve her at the bus stop, and I happily obliged. Have you ever seen a bus full of weary, droopy kids not perk up at the sight of a ridiculously and genuinely excited dog waiting for its owner? It was magical and I should have charged admission.

Yes, he was much better today, having lived through yesterday knowing that big, bad bus did in fact return his favorite human to her rightful place. And as I am wont to do, again and again, I shared my favorite new anthem with my firstborn furbaby about this whole new season we're in with our best girl and doing the best we can.

Let Her Go
By Passenger

Well you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you’re missin' home
Only know you love her when you let her go
And you let her go

Staring at the bottom of your glass
Hoping one day you'll make a dream last
But dreams come slow and they go so fast

You see her when you close your eyes
Maybe one day you'll understand why
Everything you touch surely dies

But you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missin' home
Only know you love her when you let her go

Staring at the ceiling in the dark
Same old empty feeling in your heart
'Cause love comes slow and it goes so fast

Well you see her when you fall asleep
But never to touch and never to keep
'Cause you loved her too much
And you dived too deep

Well you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missin' home
Only know you love her when you let her go

And you let her go (oh, oh, ooh, oh no)
And you let her go (oh, oh, ooh, oh no)
Will you let her go?

'Cause you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missin' home
Only know you love her when you let her go

'Cause you only need the light when it's burning low
Only miss the sun when it starts to snow
Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low
Only hate the road when you're missin' home
Only know you love her when you let her go

And you let her go