Last night I had American Idol on. When Miley Cyrus took the stage, and later Demi Lovato with Joe Jonas, I couldn't help but flash back to my youth, when I would have been screaming alongside those teenagers. I would have dubbed them all brilliant, even though I heard a few sour notes last night. I remember how Joe McIntyre went on Oprah and sung a little Sinatra. That's no Sinatra, I remember my mom remarking with a shake of her head. But teen idolship is not necessarily about the craft, but rather about the whole package. It was fun to have someone to look up to, to dream about, to provide an "escape" from day to day life.
Of course more magic of my youth included things like Santa and the Easter Bunny. Or elaborate haunted houses that seemed so real. When questions weren't answered, the mystery was the fun. As soon as you know the magician's trick, the show becomes boring.
I know that a good portion of parenting is playing the magician. But I admit that there are many times when I wish I could be the one dazzled.
When I was young, I wanted respect. I wanted responsibility.
Well, now I have responsibility, but definitely not respect.
It is interesting how things change as we age. And yes, I realize that as a thirtysomething-year-old, I'm not "aged" and yet I can see both youth and adulthood pretty clearly at this point.
I find myself young again when I cross the finish line of a race and get a medal around my neck. Sure, it is just a ribbon with a trinket attached, but somehow it means more. It is a symbol of I Did It! and something tangible that might not seem so impressive to someone else, but is something meaningful to me.
Then moments later, I feel old again, as my calves and back wonder why did she insist on climbing up that mountain? and my toes worry we're wet from those creek crossings.
I watch the reality shows where kids hope to be America's favorite dancer, or the next successful recording artist. I remember what it felt like to stand on stage, performing. I remember the pride, the feeling that I own the earth. I watch as my kids decide where they want to make their magic - what activities they feel passionate about, and which they decide to try once and then drop. I prep myself for sacrifices as a parent, and then realize I'm disappointed when my chauffeur hours are no longer needed for that particular activity.
2010 may only be roughly a quarter over (and the shortest quarter at that) but already I've seen the death of some dreams and the birth of others. I've felt young, and I've felt old. I've even had a few moments where I have been transfixed by things I don't understand, and didn't dare seek explanation, lest the spell be broken.
2009 seems so far behind us. It is frightening. It is exhilarating. It is scary. It is exciting. I need a pause button so I can curl up with my thoughts without consequences. Or maybe I need to just watch some teen idol's life and pretend.
Comments (1)
wow! this gives me chills as i read it.
have you found that pause button? when you do, please help me find it too. this year is flying by much too fast for me as well.
Posted by Laura Scarborough
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March 26, 2010 12:47 AM
Posted on March 26, 2010 00:47