A month or so ago my husband and I schemed to purchase tickets to go see NF with our big kids. We’ve taken our kids to one other concert (the Steve Miller Band because we are vintage cool like that - it was their first concert. Legendary.) But NF was THEIR music, what THEY had memorized because THEY think he’s rad. Scott and I have listened to his musically-rapped poetry because our big kids bought his vinyls and bluetoothed his music through our surround sound. And, because our kids are musically tuned-in and interested, they know about Nathan Feuerstein’s upbringing, the stories behind his music, his current family life, his standards in music, and his lack of cussing in his music. They chose to listen to him for all of those reasons.
So when they expressed an interest in going to see NF someday, Scott discovered that the artist was going to be performing in Sacramento, bought tickets for all of us, including the boyfriend (super good guy, btw). Then he told the kids to make sure they were all available and the countdown began.
Childcare was arranged for the younger two. (At first I felt bad not taking them because they like NF too, but as I thought about it, it would have been too much for me to handle as a parent at this point - waiting for it to begin, the loudness, the steep seating area, and the lateness of the evening. Plus, the big kids didn’t go to their first concert until they were 15 and 17 years old. And tickets ain’t cheap!)
Would Scott and I have chosen to go to see NF just the two of us? Probably not. We were secondary fans: fans because our kids think he’s awesome. But was it worth it? The cost of admission for the two of us to go with them?
Absolutely.
We picked seats where the kids sat behind us and every time I turned around, I saw the coolest expressions on their faces. There was pure abandonment as they sang the lyrics and joy as the bass would drop and they could feel it in their souls. They were awed at the immensity of the arena and number of fans, thrilled as NF spoke to the crowd, seeing him be just as real in-person as they believed him to be. I would put my camera in selfie mode just to record and take pictures of them.
And we were there to experience it all with them.
Our kids are growing up. And it is the coolest and suckiest thing all at once. Teaching them to use their wings, letting them try those little baby wings out on their own, fearing for them as they make bigger, life-changing decisions, but also proud of them as they succeed without our help, knowing that each success takes them a little further away from the nest. UGH! I hate it but at the same time, it is so amazing to watch! I want to be there with them for all of it, but I can’t. I shouldn’t be. And they don’t want me there for everything. Which is as it should be.
But when my husband asks if we should buy tickets or rent an AirBNB big enough for all of us or if I think he should BBQ a tri-tip for dinner for all of us, I will always say, YES!” I see the future and it has less of my kids in it so I’m always going to vote for more intentional time to create memories with them.
Growing teens isn’t easy. But doing stuff with them is fun. I’m choosing to do the fun things, even if it’s their idea of fun and not necessarily mine. I’ve decided that the memories are more important than my idea of fun.
Unless it‘s bungee jumping. Then I will take photos instead.
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