Today is the final day in a long line of busyness. Days where we got up and went - go here - go there - stay up late - have fun!
Today is the day we don't even have to get out of our jammies, and I am taking full advantage of that. Katie is watching Home Alone 2, Wyatt is torturing her, and McRae is listening to music in HIS OWN ROOM!
All the puzzle pieces fit together nicely; I had a warm cup of coffee and for breakfast, I ate delicious left-over tomato-feta salad that my friend made. The laundry is, surprisingly, spinning without help in the old, but well-loved machine (I know, I WILL stop talking about laundry one of these days).
However, the utopia couldn't last for long.
People who know me in real life know that I spent the last half of my college years in a hick town in Eastern Washington. Oh yes, a town which celebrated only 2 seasons a year: hot and cold. A town with more belt buckles and cowboy hats than should be legal. A town with a rodeo. A town with cows (sorry, cattle), horses, rattlesnakes and farms.
Since you couldn't even pick up a six-pack of beer (or California Coolers) at the grocery store without hearing Hank Williams Jr. on the radio, I adopted the philosophy "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" and I tolerated that country music with the best of them.
No, I did not have my own pair of cowboy boots.
But I did see Tim McGraw up close and personal at the rodeo. I learned to line dance and I even purchased a country cd or 2. I yee-hawed and I giddy-uped with the best of them and at the end of the day, I'd go home to my apartment, shut my door and listen to some Pearl Jam to avoid turning my mind into a jumbled mess of "I been workin' all day, my dog died and my wife cheated on me" country blues.
I don't have anything against country music, per se, but I do enjoy a fairly well-rounded selection of music. I like anything from Janes Addiction to James Taylor, with a little country thrown in there for good measure (but not new country). I blame my college years spent being brainwashed by all things country for my severe reactions to the genre today.
I've tried to expose our children to all kinds of music. Bob Marley, Van Morrison, The Indigo Girls . . . they love their Putamayo Kids folk music and The Black Eyed Peas. I thought I'd clearly made it as a parent when McRae came home from the school book fair with a Green Day poster to hang on his door.
So what does my son chose to listen to in his room?
Yup, country. With a capitol "C."