Be-Dazzling the Piano (and other serious concerns)

The piano, this morning...No, I didn't do it (husband would put me in an institution), but I wanted to!

While watching Twilight with the kids last night I started an article for a scrapbooking website I periodically work for. In the midst of hunting around online for creative fodder, I found myself inside some great websites I haven't visited in awhile: Flickr, some paper arts sites, art blogs, etc. The process of writing the article while watching the movie got me thinking about a few issues closer to home:

1. Would my favorite opaque white gel pen ink take to the piano's glossy finish? How many barrels of plastic red monkeys would it take to cover the piano? Has my favorite gel pen dried out since I last used it?
2. Wonder when I'll be getting my next art quilt block for the round robin I'm involved with? (It's the only creative project I have going, and it seems to be slow-going, unfortunately.)
3. When the movie's over I'm going to have to put in my two cents worth with my kids regarding not only Team Jacob/Team Edward (gotta go with Jacob), but also on the soul belonging, finally, to God -- not theirs or anyone else's for the selling and/or trading. I know, I'm the one who agreed to the PG-13 movie, and now I will pay.
   

Of course at least the two older kids will roll their eyes and say how it's just a movie, and it's not real, and "Mom, why can't you just have fun and not be so serious about stuff," etc. My response being, "Who me? I'm the mom who would glue monkeys to the piano, if the family would let me...Who's serious?" But by then, I'll have already put the stick in the mud.

I wonder if anyone can relate? We moms think we're pretty fun, don't we? I know for a fact that kids broaden my sense of humor, which must mean necessarily that I have lost some sort of edge. Any world sophistication drops way off when I listen to middle schoolers talking away in the back seat of the van, oblivious to mom ears. It amazes me, by the way, that they don't realize that the chauffeur is listening (at least some of the time). And sometimes, it's actually entertaining. When I jump in with a bit of my own, the car goes silent for a beat. Then one of them says, "yeah, mom." and like a switch, the conversation magicaly enlivens again.

I watch movies like Twilight and make jokes about Jacob's chronic shirtlessness (kids go "sshhh!") and I realize that mom-funny is a lonely kind of funny, because the regular audience is always 30 years younger and they don't appreciate the jokes. They also take these types of movies very seriously. In any case, while I'm cracking fun at vampires (no one says "cracking fun;" I do realize this), I'm also mourning the loss of my creative outlets, which is my own fault completely, and thinking about how and when I'm going to volunteer my parental obligatory comments about some of the behaviors and themes in this silly movie.

There are the easy ones, interjected briefly: "You DO know never to get on a motorcycle with a stranger. In fact, don't get on a motorcycle, period." Then there are the ones that hopefully cause a little healthy mental interruption: " Maybe Bella should volunteer at an old folks' home or something."

Still, at the end of the movie, there are those remaining open-ended ideas that take more time, gentle revisiting over the course of a few days, like the soul stuff. One more thing to squeeze into a busy day, but crucial. I make a mental note: Don't make a huge discussion out of it, just turn the idea over a time or two.

My kids are coming into the age where I can't shelter them from stuff I disagree with. Nor the stuff I don't believe in. I don't want to, either. I'm not anti-supernatural, or prudish about monsters and magic and but Whew, pop culture keeps me on my toes!

And all I wanted to do last night was kick back, watch a teen movie, look at art blogs online, and imagine monkeys and crystals encrusting the piano...