It kills Dave that I watch shows like American Idol and Project Runway. It is not difficult, but I really try hard to avoid Dancing With Stars. If on a Monday Night the remote ever falls on ABC, I know how easy it is for me to get sucked into the low-class-and-addictive vortex of third tier celebrities dancing their Ballroom Dances in the arms of Derek Hough, Cheryl Burke or Maksim Chmerkovskiy. I know if Dave finds me watching Donny or was it Marie dance their sweet dance moves, I fear his head may literally explode. Wow! I know way too much about this show!
This all being said, I would like to think my marriage is full of love and compromise. See, when summer rolls around Dave actually indulges my love of So You Think You Can Dance. He often knows the characters and will sit with me and watch the entire show sometimes. Yay Dave!
So late last night when Dave found me watching the end of American Idol, I knew I was taking a huge risk when I asked,
“Hey, Dave, so, um, there is this guy you really need to see. Phillip Phillips. His performance was awesome and he stood on his own two feet. This kid knows who he is. How refreshing!”
“Well then, You better get to it quick. Push four. Push four. You will get to it faster.” (Four on the remote is the fastest fast forward speed, by the way.) Dave impatiently instructed, watched and even said something like, “Wow! That was really good. That was way better than the original!”
“It was, wasn’t it? I can’t stand the original and I love this version! Hey, now listen to what the judges say. See, before the show, this kid was styled by Tommy Hilfiger and mentored by Diddy or is it Sean Puffy and he ignored them all. He used his guitar and HE WORE GREY!”
Dave listened and seemed almost as impressed as me. As I Googled Phillip Phillips I found a great retell:
From CTV NEWS: The 21-year-old pawn shop worker from Leesburg, Ga., defiantly wore grey after style adviser Tommy Hilfiger deemed it too drab. He shrugged off musical mentor Diddy’s mandate to dance.
And he turned out a growling “Movin’ Out” during an evening of Billy Joel tunes on the talent contest Wednesday that Randy Jackson called “one of the best renditions of that song ever.”
Way to go Phillip for reminding us in the crazy, overly-consumed-reality-television-show world, that we can push back and still be ourselves. Seriously, WAY TO GO! Don’t, please don’t forget who you are!
. . . Interestingly enough, a few short hours before I watched American Idol, I was walking down the street with Dave killing time before Kyle’s choir concert. As we walked, we talked and I happened to mention that I am finally figuring out, well, re-figuring out that I just need to be myself.
“See Dave,” I said as we walked, “I have always marched to my own drum. You know that more than anyone. My problem is the times I desperately try to fit in. I do this because for me to get ahead, I think I have to. It never works. Not only does it not work, but when I try to force myself into a box, the box explodes and it ends in abysmal disaster. I should always remember to be me. Like, say, with Pinterest. I am just not Martha Stewart, a crafty Mormon Mom or Dwell Magazine. For starters, I keep feeling so lost with Pinterest (*this is a whole other post, by the way), because I cannot find the pretty pictures of rocks or locate the most awesome fancy Cake Pope Recipes. The problem is, I do not care about pretty rocks or Cake Pops. Instead or if anything, I am interested in things like pictures of angry children or pictures of seeing what shows up in the grass when the snow melts.”
With that I pulled out my camera and started taking pictures of items in the melting snow. My favorite was the Pabst Blue Ribbon can I saw in front of the Mormon Church. “How ironic?” I laughed.
“Come on. Let’s keep walking.” Dave encouraged and then said something like, “Things that show up in melted snow are much more interesting than paint colors. Be yourself. Yourself is good.” (Here is another reason I love Dave.)
“That’s it, Dave. See when I was a little girl. I knew who I was. Instead of wearing pink like all the other girls did, I chose yellow. It was deliberate and I wanted to be different. I like different. Then when I find myself trying to step into another box, I laugh. Truth be told, I don’t even like boxes.”
“That is true.” Dave said and laughed.
“And recently I realized that I am killing myself when I am not me. Sure, I need to be respectful of others, but I can be me. Cake Pops be damned!”
And this is how it happened, I don’t exactly if it was an Easter Dress, a Tap Dance Ensemble or School Outfit. It was my choice and I chose yellow. I distinctly remember saying:
“All girls LOVE pink! All girls wear a lot of pink! I want my own color.” I also remember, because I wanted to make sure I was happy with my color choice, I paused, thought about it for another minute or two and exclaimed, “Wait! No one ever picks yellow. I chose yellow.”
And so it was.
When it doubt, remember to choose yellow. Always choose yellow!
Yellow is my favorite color (and has been ever since ever). You look good in yellow.
I catch myself trying to pigeonhole my kids sometimes, but they are resistant. I wanted a girly girl baby 15 years ago, and, while she is a girl, she isn’t girly. Letting her be herself has been a bit of a struggle (not a huge one) for me, but she’s infinitely stronger for following her own drum (or bass guitar, in her case) than she would have been had she followed my drum.
Cake pops are gross and way too time consuming.
But I do like pretty rocks.
I like the hat.
Sara, you know what is really funny? While I was writing I thought I should take the pretty rocks part out because it was an inside joke. I don’t even think Dave remembers that I love rocks. I have dozens of pictures of rocks, rocks that I think are pretty and interesting. So, I, myself, also like pretty rocks! Yay!
The hat is awesome. I agree!
Hey and YAY you for loving your kids for who they are. I have said it before and I will say it again. Sara, you are a great mom! You are an example to me. I love the cakes you makes, the crazy holiday treasure hunts you do for your kids and your non-sanctioned date nights. Rock on, Elvis Costello!
You knew me when I was young and did you ever know I did not like pink? Crazy ME! Thanks again for your words. As always, I love them!
Well, my Mom (bless her heart), dressed my sister and I as if we were twins for years even though we were born 51 weeks apart and are only the same age for a week. My sister always wanted to have the pink outfit and I never wanted to. So every year in the Easter pictures there is my sister in the standard issue pink dress, but you could never bank on the color I would be wearing from one year to the next. One year it would be blue, next year yellow, whatever suited my fancy at the time. Actually it’s pretty rare to see me in a dress in any pictures when I was young because I was such a tomboy. Bonifacio’s favorite picture of me is from when I was 5 and we went camping and fishing as a family in Montana. There I am proudly holding the fish I caught while wearing a white tuxedo shirt and black capris. I was the most stylin’ little fisherman you ever saw. He keeps a copy of that picture on his desk at work because he says when he sees the smile that was on my face then, he sees the essence of who I am. How sweet is that?
Yellow was Grandma Allman’s favorite color! Bravo for you!
I love your mantra of Always Choose Yellow! I will forever think of this blog when I see the color. (BTW…I love yellow but it’s a hard paint color to pick! I once did our hall bath in a happy lemonade yellow but I hated the color at night. Anyway…)
I used to watch Idol but for the past few years notsomuch. Glee has gotten annoying but I still watch it. My hubby can’t stand the show but he will “push four” (LOL) to get to just the songs. That’s all he watches. I fill my DVR with shows like Parenthood, New Girl, The Idiot Abroad and The Middle instead.
I L-O-V-E Kim’s story about the photo on her hubby’s (?) desk. So sweet. My hubby is wonderful but when he sees most photos of me as a child he says I looked like a boy with my short hair. Really? Like I had any control over that…or the clothes. Gotta love the 70s/80s!! Love the hat!
Thanks for the nice comment Andrea. Bonifacio is my boyfriend (although I wish there was a better word than that since he will be 60 and I’m pushing 50). I too suffered through my Mom chopping off my long hair into a pixie cut at the age of 6. Being a child of the 60’s, I told her that while it may have looked really sophisticated on Mia Farrow, on me I just looked like a boy! She also used to cut my bangs by placing a piece of scotch tape on them and cutting along the line. *sigh* I still love her though. 🙂
Kim, Thank you for your comments. I bet we would have got on well as kids. Wait, we get on pretty well as adults so I am sure we would have. I love that Bonifacio has a picture of you wearing the white tuxedo top, black capris and you holding a fish. How awesome are you! I also love that you changed it up and wore what you wanted to wear. Funny thing is I don’t think PINK is bad. It was just not who I was. I think you get that. I wore dresses and loved having my hair curled and I also loved wearing those same dresses out into the yard while I played in the mud or caught myself a frog. Bonifacio, YOU are Sweet! Go Kim!
Aunt Sue, I did not know that.
Andrea, I love that you knew what I was talking about when I said, “Push four!” Hilarious! I also tried painting a wall in our first Northern Virginia town home. It was ok, yet I was never really satisfied with it.
And yes, I look like a little boy in most of my 1970’s/80’s photos. My boys often ask me who the little boy is in all the pictures? My hair was short. I had bangs and looked like a dude. I blame Dorothy Hamill and her super-short-ice-skating hair, the hair we all want to have.
Thanks for liking the mantra!
So much of my childhood memories are filled with hazy holes. I am so happy because I do remember that hat and that you liked yellow!
Have you ever stopped and really checked out your drum? You should it has the most amazing beat. Keep on marching!!!
Brenda, glad you remember the yellow and that crazy hat. We did manage to have good times too, right?
boo-ba-li-bobbers
Brenda, Yes!