#99, It's always quieter at the beginning

For O’Keefe Secret Santa “Loop Engage ear plugs” was all I put on my list and I wanted them more than anything. “Limit the volume without missing a beat,” they say. “Take the edge off while staying present.” This is the parenting dream right? 6:45 PM December 26 I got them in a living room filled with 29 people and I said to my brother-in-law THANK YOU I WANTED THESE SO BAD and then I wanted to put them in right there and just leave them in. “Take the edge off while staying present with in-laws.” The first couple of times that I was with Kevin’s entire family — he’s the youngest of seven — I was 21 and drank so much that large portions of the days are lost to time, but I was very friendly and very engaged with the nieces and nephews, I’m told. Now I am 39 and drinking one weed seltzer and asking for Instagram earplugs as my little treat, like it’d be too indulgent to buy them for myself. Our 18-year-old nephew brought his girlfriend to Thanksgiving with her little white sweater and her purse that she kept with her and I thought I wouldn’t be that age again for anything in the world.

Still, I think of what a member of the Class of 1954 wrote in my alumni magazine. “When asked how it felt to be 92, a friend from the class of 1953 replied that it felt ‘like some kind of a mistake.’” 92 is not 39! Still. Back in October I and some other moms took Alice and many other 10-year-olds to the Taylor Swift movie and they were dancing in the back, a little self-conscious but only because they were still young. My oldest is 10, I have been a mom for a decade. This feels like some kind of a mistake.

Alice is moving swiftly through the eras. In October it was mostly 1989. “Style” is on, “Mom, is this your favorite Taylor Swift song?” “Yes, probably.” “It’s Juni’s dad’s favorite too.” Hmmmmmmmm. But she has moved on now. When I am in the car with the kids we take turns choosing a song. (Hugh: “Can I choose a podcast?”) Alice chose “No Body No Crime” and then I played them “Goodbye Earl” and Eileen screamed “I HATE THIS SONG.” Eileen only likes songs about birds, and Taylor Swift songs. She rotates through five songs: “Blackbird,” “Rock-In Robin,” “Surfin’ Bird” by The Trashmen (all three introduced to her by her preschool teachers), “Getaway Car,” “New Romantics,” and what she calls “Nobody No Cry.” “HEY SIRI PLAY NOBODY NO CRY,” she screams in the car. The kids hate that Siri will only listen to my voice. They shout at her, we all shout at her. Then she plays a song and I always say in a calm voice “Thank you, Siri.”

Eileen wants the songs to be loud, right away. “Blackbird,” its gentle beginning and she’s shouting “I CAN’T HEAR IT!!! CAN YOU TURN IT LOUDER.” “It’s always quieter at the beginning,” I say, “and then it gets louder.”

I say “Hey Siri, play Fast Car.” “IS THAT BY TAYLOR SWIFT” Eileen shouts. “Yes, this is Taylor Swift,” I say. Siri says, “Here’s ‘Fast Car’ by Tracy Chapman” and Eileen shouts “I HATE THIS SONG” and I turn it up to drown her out, but then I keep thinking of the people fighting on Twitter about what the lyrics of “Fast Car” actually mean and posting NBER screenshots about class mobility and feel I cannot in good conscience play it so very loudly in my hybrid minivan, or maybe it’s not for me at all. I turn it down and Eileen says “Can we play some Halloween songs?”

[I’m typing this and Eileen is sitting next to me and she just goes “Here Mom” and hands me a big boogie.]

Driving to the grocery store today I chose “Closer to Fine.” Eileen hears not-Taylor-Swift come on and shouts “I HATE THIS SONG.”

Alice: “Oh, I like this song.”

“Do you know this song?”

“Yeah Mom. It’s from the Barbie movie.”