Music has always been a part of us. Before kids, when it was just me and Brant, we went to shows every weekend. The Other Paper sat on our coffee table with the line up of who we were going to see. My memories are walking out of Oldfield’s holding hands giggling and then heading to Taco Bell. And when we weren’t going to shows Brant was playing music in our house. There were late night jams on our backporch with friends or Brant was out playing with his band.
And then came kids. And going to shows every weekend came to a screeching hault. And I miss that part of us. We will see a festival pop up and throw down the line up exclaiming we are “old”!! We don’t know any of these bands anymore. And when Brant goes out to play I can’t find a babysitter or forget to.
But then there are new memories made. The first time we brought our daughter home. Brant played to her as she laid in our bed. Watching our kids dance on the end of the guitar as he played before they could even walk. They will grow up with music in their home. When Brant brings out his guitar Falon comes running with her tutu. She points out when she hears a banjo on the radio.
So the shows aren’t what they used to be. But I am enjoying these even more.