Music and Therapy and Memories

This afternoon a very exciting thing is happening! A therapist is coming by to meet the Kid and to try and get him to use words again. Last year he was regaining some of his language but then he regressed again. It's heartbreaking but deep down inside I know he will speak again. Sometimes when I look at him, and he looks back at me, there is this little twinkle in his eyes and I just know that one day a little switch will turn on. And then we are screwed. And I mean that in the best way possible. He is a little ray of sunshine most of the time. He is easy going and just likes to hang with us. He doesn't give us attitude.. or maybe he does but we just don't know it. The funny thing is that he doesn't get that frustrated by not speaking. I've said it before and I will say it again, I truly believe that he thinks everybody understands him - no self esteem issues in this one. When he wants something, he will use my arm like an extension of his arm and guide it invariably to snacks. Sometimes I mess with him and pretend my arm is kaput and then he puts it aside and climbs onto the counter to get the damn cake himself. Sure, I spoil him and I am his interpreter and yes, I should be stricter but I am his mom and my heart breaks to think that he might feel alone or upset or ignored by others because of the way he is. Of course I over compensate and I yes I know I should push him more but at the same time, he works so darn hard at kindergarten, with his therapist and his aide that I just want to be "mom" to him and I want to be that safe harbor for him. Most of the times I am mom and then sometimes I am that shouty lady when he tries to drink out of my wine glass.

The other day I was at a meeting and I received a text message with a picture attachment from the Husband. It was of a half eaten chocolate. The Husband wrote "Turned my back and he grabbed one. Not sure what's in this one." and I responded with "Those are the Bailey's filled ones. If he starts fighting you and/or downloads an Ayn Rand book, just put him to bed." Sigh. He keeps us on our toes. I am very much looking forward to today's session and fingers crossed it goes well! Stay tuned! After the session I will be heading to Mama Liu and Sons for the first time. I am meeting a friend for dinner and I am so excited to finally try this place out. And then of course I will have to work out after because ball dress. Speaking of which, yesterday I worked out on my step machine and finished watching Almost Famous. Oh all the feeeeels!!

I watched this back in college and I remember thinking "Yes! This is everything! I want to be Penny Lane! I want to go to Morocco! I want to wear flared jeans and oversized coats and look pretty!" I bought the soundtrack and listened to it over and over again. Any time I hear Tiny Dancer I get all misty-eyed. I also had forgotten how funny some of the scenes are and how Frances McDormand's character is epic "Your mom really freaked me out, man." And then the scene on the roof where Billy Crudup is like "I am a Golden God!" The face he makes is pretty much the same face I make when the pizzaman comes. 

Speaking of music and memories and nostalgia and all that jazz (heh)... I like music and I like it a lot. Now, I love it all: rock, pop, jazz, blues, classical, Latin and dare I say...even country. Every genre brings out a different mood and if nobody is around, I will dance. Or I will dance with people around if they are dancing and it is late and I have had a couple of drinks. I hear a song and it will remind me of a moment of my life and with it comes a strong memory of that exact moment. Some of the memories are good and some are bad but without failure, I will get nostalgic. One such memory is brought to you by Snoop Dog. There was a guy in school who was very cute and very popular and he loved rap and I remember being at a party and a Snoop song came on and I wandered over and looked at him, pushing back my hair, trying oh so desperately to look cool and said "So, you like Snoop Snoopy Dog?" Ugh. The shame. He looked at me for a second and then rolled his eyes and walked away. I wanted to die and yet, once the soul shattering embarrassment wore off, a funny thing happened. It was at that moment that I decided I didn't have to be cool. Being cool was overrated. Being cool meant trying to be something that I wasn't. It was liberating. I realized that I was fine just the way I was. Not physically of course (that's still an issue) but who I was as a person. And to this day, I don't have to pretend to be someone else. I usually like me... well, I don't like myself with pizza because that is, my friends, what we call disturbing and oh so very wrong. I don't have to know all the songs by all the people. I don't have to know all the facts about all the history. I don't have to like the devil weed that some people call broccoli and I sure as hell don't have to pretend that I am cool. 

To finish up this post, here is a list of my top ten favourite songs of all time and if you judge me, that's just not cool, man. Heh.

Brown Eyed Girl - Van Morrison

If you Wanna be Happy - Jimmy Soul (this was actually the recessional at my wedding)

In Your Eyes - Peter Gabriel

La Vie en Rose - Any version but oh I do love Louis' version

Mr. Brightside - The Killers

Under Pressure - Queen

Saturday Night - Cat Stevens

Falco - Jeanny

I Believe in a Thing Called Love - The Darkness

Like a Prayer - Madonna

O.k. there are so many more now that I think about it and I also should have added that song from Madame Butterfly but this is a good start. Now I must head to work and think about ordering some denim flared jeans and purple tinted sunglasses.