I recently crossed another threshold, taking me further and further into the land of Mommy. When we’re out as a family, we usually take Will’s vehicle. This past weekend, however, he was otherwise occupied, and after 3 straight days in the house, Stella needed to get out. Somewhere. Anywhere. I opted to take her to see Will’s family, about 15-20 minutes away.
Usually in my car, I keep the radio tuned to a local talk station. I’ve always been a news junkie, but I have to concede that the past 3 years or so have been just downright depressing. As such, I rely on the 10-15 minute snippets I get to help me stay at least somewhat caught up and educated. However, on Sundays this station plays programs devoted to fixing your car or computer. Blech.
Up until now, I’ve just kind of played any kind of cd that made me happy in the car (my radio is original, so I don’t have a fancy mp3 player hook up on it). We spent November and December listening to the Time-Life Treasury of Christmas Classics (you are NOT to eye-roll me on that). Now, however, I feel that Stella should have something a bit less dreary than Radiohead to listen to (I can’t believe I just typed that). So, on the way out, I grabbed a Sandra Boynton cd that came with our Philadelphia Chickens book.
I feel so dirty. It makes me feel like such a mom. All I’m missing is a station wagon or a mini-van. Sure, it’s cute. It’s kitschy. It also falls completely outside the musical box we’ve been trying to paint for her (which includes classical, punk, ska, old jazz, etc..). On a positive note, I have created the most wonderful Pandora station which we can play when we’re around the house; I call it the “Yo Gabba Gabba” station, as that was the nucleation point of the search. We regularly get songs from the YGG show plus fun random things like “Day-O” and “Iko Iko.” I can live with that and not feel quite so “mom-ish.”