If you know what this phrase means, chances are you are younger than I am. Much younger.
If, like me, you’ve heard Snoop Dogg utter these words but weren’t quite sure what they meant, I’m sympathetic. (Ok, if you don’t know who Snoop is, then I really can’t help you. Even I know who he is. Two words. Urban Dictionary. But try not be confused that his conversion to Rastafarianism now has him requesting to be called Snoop Lion. Your confusion is another sign you’re hopelessly unhip. If you’re curious as to the name change: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/08/02/snoop-lion-rastafarian-why-did-snoop-change-his-name_n_1735255.html.
It’s not easy slowly sliding into the realm of the unhip and unhappenin’.
That said, I’m doing it. Gracefully. Because it’s better than the alternative. I will never be one of those mothers who wear sweatpants that say “Pink” on the rear. Nor will I ever wear a miniskirt again. Even if I could pull it off. I’ve already lived through my twenty-something years and you know what? They were fantastic. But, I’m ready for the decade I’m in now. There’s a charm in aging gracefully.
Also, as a mother, I see that my kids need some space to be the hip and happenin’ set without competition from me.
In that spirit, I bumble along, trying at least to remain relevant. As “Thrift Shop” came on the radio the other morning, the artists’ names popped up as Macklemore & Ryan Lewis. “Now isn’t that silly?” I said. “Who would name one child Ryan and the other Macklemore? Poor Macklemore. That’s like me naming one of you Jim and the other Theodosius.”
As my preteen looked at me in amazement, he said, “Mom, they’re not brothers.”
“Oh,” I said. “Thank goodness. That makes a lot more sense.”
He sighed and shook his head, I’m sure wondering from what gene pool he’d sprung.
And as my little one watched a Pokemon episode, I tried to figure it all out. “Aqua Tail is the best,” he says.
“Is that the blue Pokemon?” I ask.
“Mom! It’s a move, not a character,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Next, you’ll be asking me what Belly Drum is.”
Needless to say, I resisted the urge. Still not sure who or what Belly Drum is, but I seem to be thriving in day-to-day life thus far, even without this critical piece of information.
When it comes to fixing the Playstation or deciphering Nicki Minaj’s lyrics, I’m not your gal. And yes, my kids roll their eyes and look pained. But, I think they secretly enjoy it. I am unhip. I am stability. I am a rock of “eat your peas,” “do the right thing,” and “your word is sacred.” I am MOM. The rest of it, the world will throw at them. Some of it not so good, not so age appropriate, not so healthy. But they can count on me to be square and solid. And every kid needs some square and solid to keep them grounded in a world that makes them grow up far too fast.