In college I was obsessed with Sarah McLachlan. Discovering we looked a lot alike happened after I had already developed the obsession with her music, but certainly didn’t hurt it. When I decided to cut my hair short, I even brought in a picture of her style as inspiration. But I digress. One of my favorite songs of hers then and now is “Ice Cream”. It’s both sweet and sad at the same time. Back then I spent a lot of time feeling angsty, or wistful, or mildly depressed (boy, wish I could go back to college knowing what I know now… I would have had a lot more fun!). I remember one night laying in the dark feeling particularly low, listening to my six disc CD changer rotate between her, Enya, the Indigo Girls and Sting.
When Julia was a newborn and cried all the time, it turned out “Ice Cream” was one of the few songs I knew all the words of that seemed appropriate to sing. In the dark, in the middle of the night, feeling scared and sad and unsure of my future but for entirely different reasons than I did as a teenager, singing that song to my baby felt like closing a loop.
Parenting seems to surface more loops than any other experience of my life. There is something about experiencing things with my children that brings me back to some former place in my life. Much of the time it’s my own childhood – like when the kids play with a toy I remember playing with or I read them a book I was read as a child. Reading “Goodnight Moon” to Julia always gives me that little shiver, although as an adult I have a lot of questions about the book, which is incredibly odd (and I’m not the only one, there are many hilarious dissections of the book, like this one. We actually have many books from both of our childhoods that we read to the kids: Ferdinand which we both used to love, Harold & The Purple Crayon, which I don’t remember at all but was apparently a favorite of Brian’s, and a particularly obscure one that I adored and my mom somehow managed to find: Bendemolena, later renamed “The Cat Who Wore a Pot on Her Head”.
Barbies are one that I’m a bit bummed out by. I realize that they present a bizarre idea of femininity but I adored them as a child. I had a huge collection and played with them for far longer than some of my friends likely did. Perhaps Julia will get into them at some point, but for now she has absolutely no desire to play with the ones we gave her. I have such fond memories of styling my barbies, swapping out their clothes, setting up dates for them and all the Kens. Seeing them lay dejected in her toy box makes me feel a bit sad. That one feels like a loop I can’t quite connect into a circle.
My most recent loop is a particularly sweet one. At Barnes and Noble last week we found an illustrated copy of “What a Wonderful World”, the Louis Armstrong song. While that song well pre-dates my childhood, for some reason it was one of my absolute favorite songs as a girl. It was so significant to me that I chose it as the song for the faughter/daughter dance at my bat-mitzvah and again for the same at my wedding. I had thought that loop already closed when I danced to it with my dad almost 18 years after the first time, but here it is again. I have been reading it to Luca at night before bed, and I can’t help but sing it instead of reading the lines. Every single time it has made me cry.
My co-blogger Cristina wrote a post about time feeling elastic and I wrote one about how the days are long but the years are short, both which are offshoots of the loop concept, I suppose. But they are more about struggling with living in the moment of parenting. The loop, to me, is about simultaneously getting to live in the past and the present. The nicest part of the loop is that they are (usually) pleasant. Recollection can often drum up painful moments from our past, but the loop is the reverse – an often benign moment from the past that forms into a new and sentimental experience in the present with your kids. So take the time to live in your loops and form new memories from them. Maybe one days your kids will create another link in the loop and make it into a chain.