Willow has this book called "Why Do You Cry?" about how you can cry for any reason, or for no reason at all--for instance, says the mother to her little rabbit, "sometimes I cry when I look at you."
That was me yesterday. We took Willow to see Dan Zanes and Elizabeth Mitchell at the Tarrytown Music Hall, even though it meant waking her from a nap, even though it meant driving an hour each way, because as anybody who sees my Spotify feed knows, we have pretty strong feelings about those two in this house. We absolutely had to do it, but there was no way to be absolutely certain it would go well. A double-header? After an abbreviated nap? And in a big(ish) venue, and all this for the girl who ran screaming out of the first movie we tried to take her to?
So we were a bit apprehensive. I did make sure that in the weeks leading up to the show we listened to even more Dan Zanes than usual, and our Elizabeth Mitchell percentage remained, um, as high as ever. As we drove through Tarrytown, I was practically vibrating with excitement--not least because it's a damn nice-looking town. (Sidebar: I was just commenting how I would bet this town would have a great knitting store, when lo and behold there was Flying Fingers right next to the theater. I was a bit pressed for time, but rest assured, I bought stuff. Berrocco Remix. Because that's what I could see--the yarn goes up to the high ceilings and seems to disappear into the ether...yarn up to the skies...)
The Tarrytown Music Hall is beautiful. Silhouettes like these all over. But I barely saw it, nor, once the show started, did I really see much of Dan Zanes or Elizabeth Mitchell either, because I was busy watching someone else.
My girl never took her eyes off the stage, and after the first song or two was down in the mosh pit at the foot of the stage--youngest one there, and dancing and jumping as joyously and obliviously as if she were alone in the middle of a field. We have spent most of this morning listening to John Kanaka and talking about Salty Dogs, and talking about her friends Dan Zanes and Elizabeth Mitchell who were up on a stage and sang and danced and they sang Little Liza Jane and they sang Hop Up My Ladies and Pay Me My Money Down and Hey Bo Diddley and You Are My Sunshine and best of all they sang them together so it wasn't really a double-header and so Willow danced and sang along and got to enjoy both of them before she got overwhelmed (which happened about five minutes before the show ended.)
We first started listening to Dan Zanes and Elizabeth Mitchell when Willow was about a month old--mostly Elizabeth Mitchell. Willow liked it, I think...as much as a one-month old who cries most of the time likes anything, anyway. If I'm honest, I played it more for me than for her, to help me keep from crying along with her, and to keep me focused on what was important, and what mattered. Elizabeth Mitchell has a song on her second album called "So Glad I'm Here," and I would listen to that song over and over, reminding me that "love brought me here," and "joy brought me here," even when it didn't necessarily seem like it.
I felt like that throughout the entire concert, watching the child I love filled with so much joy she was bursting with it and I was too--only for her, that came out in laughter and jumping, and for me it came out in tears--tears that actually did start to overflow when they played "So Glad I'm Here" at the end of the show while my exhausted girl snuggled against us and rubbed our ears, as she has done since the day she was born.
That was me yesterday. We took Willow to see Dan Zanes and Elizabeth Mitchell at the Tarrytown Music Hall, even though it meant waking her from a nap, even though it meant driving an hour each way, because as anybody who sees my Spotify feed knows, we have pretty strong feelings about those two in this house. We absolutely had to do it, but there was no way to be absolutely certain it would go well. A double-header? After an abbreviated nap? And in a big(ish) venue, and all this for the girl who ran screaming out of the first movie we tried to take her to?
So we were a bit apprehensive. I did make sure that in the weeks leading up to the show we listened to even more Dan Zanes than usual, and our Elizabeth Mitchell percentage remained, um, as high as ever. As we drove through Tarrytown, I was practically vibrating with excitement--not least because it's a damn nice-looking town. (Sidebar: I was just commenting how I would bet this town would have a great knitting store, when lo and behold there was Flying Fingers right next to the theater. I was a bit pressed for time, but rest assured, I bought stuff. Berrocco Remix. Because that's what I could see--the yarn goes up to the high ceilings and seems to disappear into the ether...yarn up to the skies...)
The Tarrytown Music Hall is beautiful. Silhouettes like these all over. But I barely saw it, nor, once the show started, did I really see much of Dan Zanes or Elizabeth Mitchell either, because I was busy watching someone else.My girl never took her eyes off the stage, and after the first song or two was down in the mosh pit at the foot of the stage--youngest one there, and dancing and jumping as joyously and obliviously as if she were alone in the middle of a field. We have spent most of this morning listening to John Kanaka and talking about Salty Dogs, and talking about her friends Dan Zanes and Elizabeth Mitchell who were up on a stage and sang and danced and they sang Little Liza Jane and they sang Hop Up My Ladies and Pay Me My Money Down and Hey Bo Diddley and You Are My Sunshine and best of all they sang them together so it wasn't really a double-header and so Willow danced and sang along and got to enjoy both of them before she got overwhelmed (which happened about five minutes before the show ended.)
I felt like that throughout the entire concert, watching the child I love filled with so much joy she was bursting with it and I was too--only for her, that came out in laughter and jumping, and for me it came out in tears--tears that actually did start to overflow when they played "So Glad I'm Here" at the end of the show while my exhausted girl snuggled against us and rubbed our ears, as she has done since the day she was born.
3 comments:
I've been there - it is indeed a lovely venue! I haven't tried taking my son to concerts (except outdoor concerts, more like picnics with background noise) or to movies, though I'm tempted to try. I'm glad you had a good time!
How I happened upon your blog, I can't remember, but read it now religiously. Although my baby making days are over, I do knit for my grandchildren and someday soon will knit one of your beautiful designs. My reason for writing today is to let you know I bought the book "Why Do You Cry" as a Christmas gift for my 3 year old grandson - who sometimes cries for no reason, as most of us do. (My mom and I would always cry when we walked in to my son's elementary school - who knows why). I haven't read it yet, wanting to share the story with him for the first time .... but wanted to thank you for mentioning it in your blog. Happy blogging ..... and good cheer for the holidays. Chris
All the best to you too! Those gals actually have a knitting book, too, called "Shall I Knit You A Hat?" It's not quite as emotionally useful, but it's very charming.
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