So, a few months ago, my CDs were stolen out of my car. That sucks. Not just because they were stolen, but because all of my favorite CDs were in the car. The songs that get me through, with lyrics I can relate to during my long days. Stinkin' criminals.
My absolute favorite artists of all time - the ones that were swiped from my car by a hoodlum who was hoping for rap, but got my girly love tunes instead and therefore, probably threw my music in a dumpster somewhere, stupid criminal - are: ahem, Tracy Chapman (my first love), the Indigo Girls (I give them all my lyrics-like-poetry love), Brandi Carlisle, Stevie Wonder, and Al Green. All gone.
You know that game you play when you are drunk at a bar where someone asks you if you had to be with a celebrity of the same sex (or opposite sex, depending on your original sexual orientation) for whatever reason, like you were held at gunpoint or someone will give you a million dollars if you do it - well, who would you pick? My pick was always Tracy Chapman. I don't know if she is a lesbian or not, I'm just saying, she's my choice when I play that game. Everytime. Love her.
Anyway, thank goodness for free phone apps like TinyShark - otherwise, I wouldn't be able to listen to my favorite songs because I can't afford to go out and buy my CDs all over again. It took me years to collect them all. I had every single Tracy Chapman and Indigo Girls CDs. And, I know, I'm an old lady who is behind the times and should just have an iPod with a docking station, but I don't, and they cost money, too, so I won't anytime soon.
My point is that I was listening to TinyShark today (which I can only get to work part of the time. Grrrr.), cooking dinner and singing along with my dear Tracy Chapman and Indigo Girls, when all of a sudden, I just started crying. Not a sad cry. Not a happy cry. Just crying. This music takes me back to years of my life, really tough but fun and carefree years, and I think I might have been grieving the person I used to be - someone with a life outside of the home - when I had time to sit around and appreciate what the music was saying and what the poetic lyrics meant to me.
These songs reminded me of myself, three years ago, before I lost myself in my motherhood role. I might have felt a tinge of sadness that I can't ever have her back again in the same way. But, I also felt hope that I can come back, better than ever, in a different way - still me, only with eyes in the back of my head and a mean don't-mess-with-me-I've-raised-two-boys attitude
I wasn't sad. I was just...letting go a little bit.
However, I've been emotional all day for whatever reason (and no, you men out there who might ask, it is not my time of the month). Earlier in the day, I was watching my boys playing in Max's room - they couldn't see me and didn't know I was watching. Max leaned over to Harry, hugged him, and said, "I love you, Harry." And then continued playing with his Star Wars figures, like it was no big deal.
I cried then, too, hiding behind the wall in the hallway. I cried because it was incredibly sweet and Max has come so far in his understanding of appropriate emotion - I am so proud of him, but I cried also because I thought for the first time in a long time, "Hey, I must be doing something right."
Then,(and this is ridiculous), when my son was watching Return of the Jedi, I actually cried at the end of the movie when the Ewoks are celebrating and Luke Skywalker returns and hugs Princess Leia and he sees the ghosts of his mentors and father.
Um, hello. Who cries at the end of Star Wars? Maybe lifers who go to Star Wars conventions, dress up like Darth Vader and do live action role playing, but certainly not normal, non-obsessed-with-sci-fi people. Something might be seriously wrong with me.
Though, on a somewhat lighter note, I read on a homeschooling blog today that Satan is who makes people send their kids to public school, which made me laugh, and then I felt better, because hey, at least I'm not batsh*t crazy, right?
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