My three-and-a-half-year-old, Emma, stands beside me in our cozy kitchen while my partner, Mike, sizzles mushrooms on the stove. Her little fists are balled up, her expression mirroring that of an intense news anchor. I’m recounting a frustrating moment to Mike—something that made my blood boil, perhaps a point I failed to convey in an email or during a mundane grocery store encounter.
“Mommy! Mommy! If you don’t talk to me, I, I, I…” Her brown eyes widen as she desperately searches for an appropriate consequence. “If you don’t talk to me, I won’t be alive anymore!” she declares, her voice a mix of urgency and drama.
I gaze down at my passionate little girl, sporting her “I Love New York” t-shirt and corduroy pants. Wow, she really needs to make her point right now. Honestly, it’s hard to tell who’s who in this moment—one of us is nearly four and the other is almost 40.
As I lounge in my nightgown at 5 p.m., smelling of sweat and exhaustion, I crave just five minutes to finish my thought. Then maybe ten more for a hot bath—my legs are cramping from yesterday’s rare ballet class. And perhaps an hour to lose myself in “Wolf Hall.”
I scoop Emma up into my arms. “Did you know,” I begin, “that parents are people too?”
Her wide eyes lock onto mine—this is what she wants. I have her full attention, and she has mine.
“Mommies are people. People with kids.” I scramble to recall the lyrics from “Parents Are People,” a classic gem from the ’70s and ’80s that I grew up with.
“When mommies were little,
They used to be girls,
Just like some of you,
But then they grew.”
I mentally journey back to my own childhood, sitting cross-legged on the orange shag carpet of my bedroom in Southern California. The air is thick with the smell of textbooks wrapped in brown paper, and I can hear the echo of songs from my youth. What did I listen to back then?
- A Chorus Line. (Ah, the bell bottoms!)
- Stacey Q. (Did I really just admit that?)
- Billy Vera and the Beaters. (Who could forget that tune from Family Ties?)
- The Princess Bride soundtrack. (Of course.)
- And of course, Free to Be You and Me.
I pull up the album on iTunes for Emma—note to self: time to join the hipster crowd and get a record player, they really do sound better.
We start dancing, and although Emma is now half my height, she fits perfectly in my arms. Draped around my neck, she cuddles close, swaying to “Parents Are People.”
“Mommies are women,
Women with children,
Busy with children,
And things that they do.
There are a lot of things,
A lot of mommies can do.
Some mommies are ranchers,
Or poetry makers,
Or doctors or teachers,
Or cleaners or bakers.
Some mommies drive taxis,
Or sing on TV.
Yes, mommies can be,
Almost anything they want to be.”
As dusk creeps in, the lights from neighboring windows illuminate our narrow New York City block. We sway by the window, singing, while outside, people hurry home, dogs dart down steps, and teenagers strut in high heels, laughing and smoking.
“Remember this one?
Well, I don’t care if I’m pretty at all,
And I don’t care if you never get tall.
I like what I look like, and you’re nice small,
We don’t have to change at all.”
Emma used to inquire why I cried during certain songs, but not anymore. She’s discovered that there’s a magical realm where parents can retreat, a place where we exist both alone and with our children.
It’s that special moment when nostalgia washes over, igniting a passion we can share, bringing us closer together as parent and child.
I’m almost 40 now, sweet girl, and I want you to know:
We don’t have to change at all.
For more insights on parenting, check out this post on home insemination kits, and if you’re looking to boost fertility, visit Make a Mom for the latest supplements. For excellent resources on pregnancy and home insemination, check out UCSF’s Center.
In summary, this reflection on parenting highlights the importance of boundaries, connection, and the shared experiences that shape our relationship with our children. Through the music of our past, we can impart lessons and understanding to the next generation, all while celebrating the unique journey of motherhood.