My Other Kid is Harry Styles
OK, confessions up front. I don’t know how it happened, but I love Harry Styles. While I’m not sure how it happened, I know the genesis of my Harry love. One Direction (that’s it, right?) was on Sesame Street singing about the letter U. My then-tiny girl and I were politely bopping along to some average singing about Udon in a cup when this lovely voice popped up out of nowhere.
Twenty-six letters are in the alphabet, but we’re here to sing about “U”.
Amelia, the aforementioned formerly-tiny girl, and I sing together all the time, but there’s always this part where we pick (she picks) our parts. “You be Anna and I’ll be Elsa.” “ You be Captain Man and I’ll be Kid Danger…except when Kid Danger has the small part.” You get the idea. I picked Harry for the U song, and I couldn’t be talked out of it. Since then, I’ve caught glimpses here and there of his solo career, mostly when I can’t sleep, and he made it onto my playlist, a counter balance to all of the grunge and “deep” alternative.
These past two weeks have been exhausting, and by that I don’t mean to imply I have it worse than anyone else. There are people risking their lives to help save others, and those whose lives are affected terribly by illness and loss. Whoever you are and whatever you’ve gone through, I’m pretty sure it’s been extra something, and my extra something has felt like I’m running a marathon while trying to tow an elephant on a skateboard. It hasn’t been pretty, and when I try to stop, oof, dang elephant rolls into me. I’ll spare you the details for another time, but I am a newly minted second grade teacher of one with a chronic illness and near-constant pain who is between jobs. It’s really loud around the house from all of the snapping, and my husband, daughter, and I take turns breaking down and comforting each other. That said, there have been some really great things, like finding out just how easily Amelia can pick up new subjects, how much she truly wants to soak up everything the world has to offer, and how creative she is. Even the happy requires some hustle, however. Like I said, exhausting.
I go to sleep after everyone, then enjoy several brief naps punctuated by bathroom trips, puzzles, reading, cat petting, social media drooling, and writing. If I’m lucky, I get in a few hours of sleep, which I’ve been told is inadequate, but it’s working, so eh. My “before they get up” hours are especially productive work-wise, so the lack of work has left me, well, lacking. On one such formerly-productive morning, I fell down the YouTube rabbit hole and ended up watching an NPR Tiny Desk concert with Harry.
It was nice.
He just seems so sweet and genuine which, whether it’s true, marketing genius, or somewhere in between, I need right now. It’s like an exhaustion antidote. So, I’m bopping along with just one earbud in so I can hear if someone needs me, and he launches into Adore You. He gets to the chorus, and the high note is nowhere to be found. He’s walking through fire for me, but it sounds like he’ll hit the up button on the elevator for me. I…I start making excuses for him. It’s probably early in the morning, maybe he’s at the end of a long press tour, maybe he has a cold. Someone get Harry some water! Then he comes back around to the chorus and sings it the usual way. I think it was just an artistic decision. Oh, that Harry. Phew.
My life is this bundle of thorns I’m trying to carry around safely without actually touching much, and I’m just not ready to dissect it in writing, but as long as I can put my energy into the kids, there’s hope.
Would you believe it?
