Rock Star!

"Hey hey I wanna be a rock star!" - Nickelback

I love that song.

It's tongue-in-cheek view of fame, which has been the downfall of many a talented individual, is a commentary on being careful for what you wish. "We'll all stay skinny cuz we just won't eat!"

So, we're maneuvering traffic, the A/C is blowing full-blast, the stereo is rockin', I'm thinking about a bathroom I could play baseball in and my lovely fifteen y/o daughter decides to start asking me some really personal questions.

I know that brevity is the soul of wit, but I have a tendency to explain the workings of the watch when asked for the time. Not in this case. I answered her questions as she posed them: "Yes, no, no, yes, no, yes, no, maybe, ask your dad. . ."

"Oh."

I was a mature, grown woman with a bunch of kids of my own before it occurred to me that my parents were people and not just parents trying to "hold me down." It might have made for better relationships earlier on had I recognized their humanity instead of holding them up to some whacked-out standard.

This is not to say that I don't want my kids to think I am a Rock Star of sorts - the all-knowing, all-seeing, all powerful, larger-than-life Icon Mom, doing my daily Rock and Roll Hoochie-Koo. But maybe it will make their own lives a little more manageable to know that I've made mistakes and learned from them, that I am not perfect.

"It's the law of the Universe, honey, choices have consequences."

"Oh."

"Yeah, you know, Einstein - for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. . ."

(I'm proud of myself for bringing that together! I had a B in high-school physics, you know??)

"Wow."

Aw, heck, I don't know how this whole parenting gig will turn out in the end. There's a lot of pressure in feeling like you're always on stage, having to please the crowd. If worse comes to worse, I can always trade this life for fortune and fame, I'd even cut my hair and change my name. . .