Cool Parents, Hip Kids
You don’t get to choose your parents. At the same time, parents don’t get to choose their children. You hope that they’re loving, responsible, attractive and eventually successful. It doesn’t matter what you hope for, of course because when you become a parent, you will love them regardless of how far outside the lines they color. I know because I have a daughter. When I was told that I was to have a little girl, visions of pink frills and doll clothes danced through my mind. I was terrified. I accepted the fact that I was to be a mother, but a mother to a girl was a different story entirely. With my luck (and most likely my genetics) my daughter hasn’t reached her first birthday but has already shown tendencies towards loud punk rock music, an indifference to the multiple dollies her Grandmothers have sent, and a great love for being destructive. Her favorite activity at the moment is banging on things with spoons. Hard. Rock on little girl, rock on.
What I wonder all the time is how exactly so many children wind up so different from their parents. Maybe because we’re young parents we’re teaching our daughter to enjoy crazy music and messy art projects. We expose her to things that we enjoy. It seems to be rubbing off so far, but we are just in the beginning.
Who said kids can’t be hip? A few of our friends have 12 and 13 year olds. I won’t pretend that I love seeing the giggly and omnipresent middle-high school kids loitering in every shopping center, but some of their kids aren’t bad. A friend of mine loves traveling and has taken the opportunity to bring her daughter with her to places as close as Mexico and exotic as Thailand. I wish my Mom took me to Thailand! Other friends of mind don’t send their kid to the community summer camp. She goes to Skateboarding Camp in the summer and Snowboarding Camp in the winter. Granted, it’s not cheap, but they enjoy these things. These kids have interests. These kids are interesting. I’m not going to lie, I’m jealous of how cool these kids are. They have personalities and likes and dislikes. They’re not carbon copies of their parents by any means, but I can’t help but wonder if they were predisposed to being super rad kids because of their super rad parents. The best part is they are not carbon copies of the "kids at school."
I like to think that when I dress my daughter in colors other than baby-pink and play "adult" music in the car, bring her to see bands play and teach her to play the drums that I’m creating a base. She doesn’t have to like everything I do. She’ll have her own personality. She’ll be cool.