Stop the World - I Want to Get Off

The first time I heard the title "Stop the World - I Want to Get Off," I thought it was brilliant. The rest of the musical disappointed me, though. :-)

This week has been harrowing. Marital stuff, dance troupe stuff, work stuff, and then yesterday I got a call that Anna was on her way to the hospital in an ambulance because she had been in a car accident. I felt the world stop as I shoved stuff in my purse, let my assistant know that I was leaving, and as I sat in the hospital ER waiting room waiting for the ambulance, it seemed like everything was moving around me but I was not part of it.

We pieced together what happened - "hanging out" turned into "driving around" and the boy driving took the corner on the gravel road too quickly and rolled the car.

Anna was bloody and banged up, but she checked out ok and she was allowed to come home. The driver and other passenger didn't get as banged up as Anna. The driver was pretty hysterical and got quite a lecture from the Sheriff and from his dad. All I could do was hug him and assure him that Anna was ok. She was already on the phone with him as we left the hospital.

Today already feels crazy. We slept in and I am heading into work late. My red message light is going to be blinking like crazy. I hate that message light.

Can I at least have Stop the World - I Want the Phone to Stop Ringing?

I joked that I need a pause button for my life. A friend suggested a mute button. That would be ok, too.

This is Not a Rebel Song

My dog is a Golden RETRIEVER and that means that she wants to carry stuff in her mouth. I reward her with things to carry. When she goes in her crate or out of her crate, I offer her one of her many stuffed toys and she carries them with her. She piles them around the house. She offers her ratty toys to the cats as peace offerings (they are doubly offended that she would approach them and that she would offer them such a digusting gift). When she is in the yard she is constantly rearranging sticks and leaves and balls and whatever else she can find on the ground. It makes walks interesting. Usually she carries sticks, but she also picks up paper cups, fast food wrappers, kleenex, unidentifiable garbage.

"Drop it," I say, and she will drop it into my hand for me to dispose of.

Retrievers are gross, but they are also obedient.

A couple of days ago she picked up a stick and carried it the last block home. When we got to the house I said, "Drop it," and tried to take the stick from her. What dropped into my hand was the full vertebrae of a squirrel. I realized in horror that she had picked up the spine of the squirrel that has been rotting on the corner since the fall. I have watched as it flattened, dried, got buried by snow, reappeared in the defrost, and now here I was holding the spine of a squirrel.

Disgusting and possibly disease ridden, yes, but also really fascinating.

The image seared itself in my brain and I see spines on people around me and my animals and picture the spine I held in my hand.

It's been a trying couple of weeks. Last night we had lentil tacos and went to a band concert. Baths, report supervision, dishes, etc. I talked with the teen about some boy drama.

Moms don't get a lot of support. We give a lot, but the thanks is often an afterthought.

"You didn't make corned beef and cabbage this year," the teen commented as she went up to bed.

"I wasn't up to it this year," I said. And left on my own on the main floor, I pulled out my favorite U2 album and decided to finish off St. Patrick's Day with my favorite Irish men. I turned the volume way up and lay on the floor so I could feel the music through the floorboards. The kids stood on the stairs and yelled at me that the music was too loud. I yelled back that I just wanted to listen to one album. And then I relaxed into the floor and let the guitar become my spine.

"Drop it," I command myself.

Developmental Stages

My friend Lindsey and I once found a book in her parents' collection about child development. With fascination we read about what the 11 year old girl thinks about and feels. I remember being pretty shocked at how accurate it was. And later as a new parent, I read child development books and anxiously tracked my kids' progress - speech, walking, talking, reading - parents kind of obsess about it.

I have been fortunate that my kids reached milestones when they were supposed to and I have not worried about their physical or intellectual abilities. One thing that has worried me is Mary's distaste of music.

I get it that kids aren't supposed to like what their parents like, but Anna does. We did go through a brief period where she couldn't stand Bob Dylan, but after a slow and steady dose, she gained appreciation for him (like continuing to serve peas for dinner). Anna really is more like her dad though in that she leans towards an alternative rock sound. Her first concert was Wilco and R.E.M. at Red Rocks. It has really set the tone for her musical taste. She also has some more modern interests, which she and I share (Eric doesn't like rap or mashup, but I do). I would say that Anna has the most diverse musical taste of the children.

Frank likes more classic rock and roll and he likes it loud. We like to crank up Led Zeppelin, for example. He recently discovered the Beastie Boys and the girls both roll their eyes and complain. "Listen all y'all, it's sabatogue!" he yells at them.

Mary has worried me. She complains about my music a lot - the volume, the instruments, the singing. Mostly it's a volume issue. And she doesn't like lyrics you can't understand or distorted guitar (which might be my favorite instrument sound in the world other than a drum). She loves Simon and Garfunkel, but sheesh, there is only so much Simon and Garfunkel I can take. (Mary actually wrote Paul Simon a letter when she was about 8. She told him how much she likes his "soft" music.) In some ways this is not different than Mary's reaction to the world. Although Mary is loud and prickly, she does not like noise or bright light or fast movement. She has been like that since she was a baby. "Please, please, please turn it down!" she will moan as I turn the volume up on a song I like.

Recently we discovered that Mary likes New Wave - the mellow sounds of The Cure, Echo and the Bunnymen and Joy Division - that soft, synthesizer sound? Yeah, that's Mary's rock.

I am sighing with relief over here as I put "soft" music on her ipod. She asked me to put The Social Network soundtrack on as well. I'll take it. It's Trent Reznor, afterall. Maybe I should add "Pretty Hate Machine?"