Ecdysis

Every now and then I come across blog posts or articles written by mothers who miss who they used to be. They long for their old freedoms and careers. They talk about what they used to look like and the trips they used to take. How they used to be someone else.

I have to admit, I never really related.

I was never so happy than to have my husband suggest that I leave my job when I got pregnant. It's not that I didn't enjoy working. I loved my job, but I was tired and ready to shed that skin.

I was ready to be needed by my family, not 100 different families. I didn't have the ability to distance myself while working in the non-profit sector and ended up self-extending my job description far beyond just providing music lessons for children from low-income families.

That part of my life was rewarding, and while Kevin admits he misses seeing me in a business suit and heels (he says with a "rawr)", we are both happy with me staying at home.

There is another part of my life, however, that didn't end with such a definitive line. It simply has faded away and before I realized what was happening, it was completely gone.

I will never be a rock star.

When I moved to the Triangle 11 years ago, the first thing I did after finding a job was to look for a band. Within six months, I had joined up with three amazing guys who actually wanted to play my songs. I was in heaven. Add that to the weekly open mics at the Berkeley Cafe, and I was honing my chops like never possible in Mississippi.

Over the next several years, I was in and out of different groups, hauling my Fender Rhodes mostly by myself, using a handtruck and a rather ingenious system my ex-husband designed for getting it in and out of our hatchback.

I liked walking into a club or a music store and being treated like a musician and not a groupie girl. I liked the spotlight. I even liked being behind the spotlight, trading my lead singer days for back up vocals and keys in the last group.

Last week, Kevin, Little Bird, and I went into Sam Ash just to see what they still had in stock during this dismal economy. As we walked through, it felt completely foreign to me. Even though I had worked there a decade ago when it was still Mars Music, nothing felt familiar. I realized as we were leaving that it was me who had changed, not the store.

I presented as a pregnant woman with her toddler in tow, following her musician husband through the racks of guitars. There was no reason for them to perceive me as anything but a mother.

I have a confession. Sometimes when I meet new people, either in real life or online, I wish they knew me when I was "cooler." You know, you might have caught me at The Pour House or The Cave, do you remember? Maybe we met at The Berkley? I'm sure we know some of the same people . . .

But that's not who I am. Not anymore. Granted, I still get to perform and record with a musician who holds my utmost respect. We get gigs in theaters where someone else lugs my gear, or better yet, I have a beautiful grand piano to use. We get to play with the North Carolina Symphony. We are home before 3:00 AM and don't smell like stale cigarette smoke. Oh, and we get paid well. There is that very distinctive difference.

Of course the whole rock star thing is tongue in cheek, but the realization that even though I love my new skin, I'm not entirely comfortable in it? That's pretty on the mark, and I guess I relate a little more than I originally thought.

Photo by Gail Anne Photography.

Marty blogs about mothering and music at Don't Take the Repeats and sings only phrases on Twitter.

An Open Letter to a Tree

Dear New Pine Tree at the Koka Booth Amphitheater in Cary,

Congratulations on growing up in North Carolina, where you will be revered as an official state symbol. Nice work!

However, while I fully respect your right to live and grow and enhance the environment of the old North State, I question your specific location for putting down roots. Although it may not have been your personal choice, I hope you can understand my frustration.

Earlier this summer, my husband and I brought our almost-4-year-old son with us to see Cirque de la Symphonie. It was a fantastic show for the whole family, combining beautiful symphony music with spectacular acrobatics and circus performers -- but then, you already knew that since you had a much better view of the show than we did, as we were seated behind you and could barely see through or around your lovely fringed branches.

Yes, I know, we didn't get there the exact second the gates opened, as it seemed everyone else must have done. And I know we could still hear our wonderful state symphony no matter the view. But we arrived more than an hour and a half before the show was scheduled to begin, so it didn't seem like too much to ask that we be able to see the acrobats, dancers and jugglers as well. Sadly, the only spaces available were those with obstructed views (see photo -- note that we cannot see the stage at all).

Perhaps you may want to talk with your arbor crew about why they would intentionally plant a young, short and very full pine tree in the middle of the seating area? Seems like it's going to be a decade or more before you are tall enough to provide any noticeable shade without boxing out scores of people behind you. Not to mention that they planted you right between two other (much taller) pines, so I expect you're going to feel a bit crowded as you get older. Really, I'm only thinking of you.

I promise I am not opposed to trees, in fact I think they're quite lovely. And I'm not even opposed to trees at an amphitheater, provided they are tall enough that the branches don't block the view.

But seriously. It's an amphitheater. Why go out of your way to prevent guests from seeing the very stage they paid money to see?

Sincerely,
Cyndi

P.S. Very sorry about your 14 friends that were recently removed from my yard. It's nothing personal, I promise. I just really like an open view.

An original Triangle Mamas post. When Cyndi isn't complaining about nature or hiring lumberjacks, she can be found blogging about all sorts of non-tree-related things at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake.

We Have a Winner!

Triangle Mamas would like to congratulate Heather on winning our very first giveaway! You can find Heather at Vanilla Pudding for My Soul. Random.org chose Heather our of all the comments left before this past Friday at midnight.

Thank you to everyone who entered and linked to our contest.

Water of Life

Here is a sampling from the CD you can enter to win by commenting on this post. You have until Friday at midnight to enter, and if you link back to our contest on your blog and leave another comment with the link, you'll be entered twice!

Win the Beauty of the North Carolina Mountains in Music and Watercolors

These days, a blog just isn't a blog unless it's giving something away. I've seen giveaways for countless toys and games for your kids, but rarely something just for Mom.

That's where we come in.

This week, we are giving away a copy of Bill Leslie's newest book and CD, Blue Ridge Reunion. Granted, if I want Christopher to go to sleep in the car, it's the first CD I go to. He's usually out by the end of the first track. And the book is a picture book . . . but not the kind you are used to reading before bedtime.

The pictures in this book were painted by Bill's father. He was a watercolor artist, much like Bill is a musician. On the side.

Bill's father owned a bookstore in Morganton, North Carolina. Bill says they carried a little bit of everything really. And after hours, his father would paint. Like his father, Bill pursues his artistic passions after hours. He is an award winning anchorman on WRAL in the mornings, and an award winning musician on the side.

The paintings in the book are incredible portraits of the North Carolina mountains. There is, in my humble opinion, no place on earth more beautiful than western North Carolina, and William Leslie captured that beauty in simple, pure, watercolors.

I don't have to wax poetic about the beauty of Bill's music. Plenty of people have done that already. Yo-Yo Ma called Bill "one of the greats in modern Celtic music" during an interview Bill was conducting with him, and author Jan Karon uses Bill's music on her website as the perfect musical backdrop. The CD has been receiving generous airplay on new age stations around the world, was number 1 on the world music charts in September and number 2 in October.

I cite my references as I glow about him because I am a little biased. Those are my backing vocals you will hear on the three vocal tracks. I laugh when I say that I'm finally doing music my parents enjoy, but it's true, and I'm proud of that.

Bill has generously given us a copy of both the book and the CD to giveaway here on Triangle Mamas. He has a soft spot for babies and for mamas. The three ladies he shares the WRAL news desk with have six children between them, Christopher attends our band rehearsals on my back in our Babyhawk, and our violinist will be bringing her nine month baby belly to our gig at the Grove Park Inn in February. 

That's Mr. Leslie just above there with a tiny tiny Little Bird way back when. . .

Pardon my distraction. He's just such a cute baby.

You want this CD. You want it with a glass of wine, a warm bath, and a husband who is watching your kids for an entire hour. The book is going to look beautiful on your coffee table, and I dare say we can even get him to sign it for you if you like.

For anyone who loves North Carolina, this is the perfect Christmas gift. Even if that "anyone" is yourself.

Leave us a comment. That's all you have to do to enter. Link to our contest and leave us another comment with that link and you get two entries. It's that simple.

Entries will be accepted until midnight this Friday, December 12. We'll post the winner over the weekend. Please make sure that we can get in touch with you via email in case you win!

This is an original Triangle Mamas post. Marty can also be found blogging at her personal blog, Don't Take the Repeats when she isn't slacking off on Facebook.

Music to His Ears

I cannot wait for Christopher to start singing. I'm beyond excited for him to learn those first few notes on the piano. He is only 8 months old, but I'm ready for the musician inside my little baby to come on out and play.

He does love music. His Music Together class is the highlight of our week. We've been going since he was 7 weeks old, and he has gone from observer to participant in just these few months. It is amazing.

So when I got an email from Lindsey, who I had met at BlogHer, asking me if I would like to take him to the Raggs Dance Party at the Carolina Theatre in Durahm, I took her up on the offer.

We aren't really watching TV with him yet, so Raggs isn't a character he's really that familiar with. We did meet Raggs at BlogHer, but I have to admit, Christopher was much more entranced during his rendezvous with Abby Cadabby. I didn't know what to expect from our little guy at the show.

 I really didn't know if he would love it, hate it, or simply be scared out of his mind by the giant technicolor dogs on stage. 

He loved it. Crazy dancing baby scream with glee loved it.

Of course, he loved it before the dogs even got onstage. He loved the music that was played pre-show, and only got more excited with the addition of the great big dogs onstage after it started.

So what did we do this past weekend? We took him to another concert. This time, we went to Koka Booth Amphitheater to see The Connells and Arrogance. We went armed with his little baby headphones, because I'm super protective of his hearing, and a couple of diaper bags full of extra clothes, diapers , and toys to entertain him if he got bored.

This time? There was no crazy dancing baby. He was content during The Connells, and actually slept through Arrogance.

I am surprised to say, there might just be something to "kids' music" being for kids.

I thought this wo uld bother me. The six CD changer in my Jeep has slowly, but surely replaced my Amy Winehouse with a Music Together CD. My Wilco with They Might Be Giants. My Damien Rice with Elizabeth Mitchell. The children's music is taking over my car.

However, I really don't mind. I actually enjoy most of the music, and I get a big kick out of the responses it garners from my son.

We are still teaching him the basics. Crowded House and U2 and every Paste sampler from the past several years all rot ate through the iPod playlist as Christopher and I make dinner together in the kitchen. He also loves to listen to me and his daddy sing together with daddy's guitar.

Sure. I have three different versions of "Lil' Eliza Jane" in the car right now. It's a little annoying at times.

But honestly? As long as the only large colorful singing animals that Christopher falls for are in the Raggs ba nd and not some big purple dinosaur? I'm considering myself pretty lucky.

An original Triangle Mamas post.

*I can't miss the chance to mention that Raggs is produced a stone's throw away in Charlotte 
. You can see it Sunday  mornings at 7:00 AM on UNC-TV.