The Blinded by Sound family is growing. And I don't just mean those of you who have taken to writing with us, therefore joining our little slice of internet heaven. All I need to do is look down at my ever-expanding belly and it's pretty darn obvious that my husband and I will welcome our own little BBS bundle in the coming months.
And with this news I realize that life as a music fan, as I have known it, will be forever changed. Years ago I faced the music scene with reckless abandon. It didn't matter when or where a favorite band was playing - I would find a way to be there. If going to shows was a job... let’s just say I was a model employee.
While I've been keenly aware of our impending arrival, it wasn't until I went to see one of my favorite bands, the Old 97s, in my current state, that I realized the declining status of my rock and roll rank. Here I was at a venue I've been at so many times before, only now instead of focusing on drinking beer and swooning over band members - I was looking for a safe place to stand and trying to steer clear of the drunks. Rather than hoping for an encore to the encore, I was hoping things would wrap up at a reasonable hour so I could tuck my ever expanding ass into bed.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen, kids. Is it just a matter of time before I'm jamming out to Disney tunes in my car? Am I going to have to trade my beloved Rhett Miller for Justin Beiber? Will my prized collection of musical favorites soon be seen as the "old folks" music my parents listened to? Holy cow...I'm just a few short years away from being seen as profoundly uncool by this kid... aren't I?
Now safely tucked away in my womb, this little person now has ears and is staring to hear things. This is exciting because I can start to expose my offspring to some of my favorites - including his/her first few rock shows. But it's also equally frightening - because some of the music currently on rotation is probably not suitable for little unborn ears.
All in all, I guess we all get grow'd up at some point. It sort of makes sense really, given that many of my favorite bands from my 20s have now settled down and started families of their own. Maybe we can all uncool together.
Rock and roll parents - any tips for navigating the journey from music maven to music momma? Thoughts for maintaining what’s left of my cool factor? Any ideas for raising kids who love music as much as we do? Any instructions for the first time my darling wants me to chaperone an outing to see some horrible pre-fab manufactured pop act ala Miley Cyrus?
That said, if this kid brings home a Nickleback record he/she is grounded - forever.