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When your family is young it is quite easy to place where all of your children are in the morning .  They should be in bed.  Well, I usually didn’t get that opportunity to see them in their beds in the morning, they were in my bedroom waking me up, but you understand what I mean.  They were where they were supposed to be.

Nowadays it is a different story. When I want to see where everyone is I get up in the morning and count the pairs of shoes at the front door.   Usually there is a pair of my teenager’s size 9.5 (small feet like his dad) and a pair of girls flip flops belonging to Allison (she’s not the one I’m concerned about).

Now it worries me when I see a foreign pair of shoes.  If they are obviously boy’s shoes I ponder this for a moment and wonder which of Tristan’s friends spent the night.  If there are a pair of girls flip flops that are not Allison’s I fly down the stairs and knock on Tristan’s door.  He opens it after five minutes of knocking and I return just in time after looking for that can opener thing that picks locks.  I look around the room and then make up something like,” I just wanted to make sure you made it home last night”.

I’ve found all sorts of interesting articles of clothing left by Tristan’s girlfriend in the last few months since they have been dating.  A skirt in the guest room, “She had to change for work.”  A purse in the entry way by the front door, “She forgot it.” I haven’t quite figured out the significance of that one, but what female forgets her purse for two days?  Shoes, socks and once a pair of jeans in the dryer.

I keep a pretty good eye on them and I’ve had the “talk” many times to groans and eye rolling.  I’m trying not to be one of those mothers that parents on either end of the spectrum.  My only solace is my oldest daughter made it to adulthood pretty much unscathed by my parenting and I am crossing my fingers it is working on Tristan as well.

You know how the media is always interested in famous people’s iPod lists?  I’m not, but if you looked at mine you might be impressed, embarrassed or disgusted depending on your taste in music.  Sometimes I am embarrassed and disgusted by some of my downloads.  John thinks all I listen to is U2, and maybe it is better that he continues thinking that.

I think I have some pretty cool music.  I also have some questionable purchases, Bruno Mars, Justin Bieber (only one, I know now I’m rationalizing) and Family Force Five.  I can’t help it.  I like what I like at the moment and then I purchase it from iTunes.  It’s just too easy to receive that immediate satisfaction for a $1.29.

When I find some new music, I always pass them along to Emily and Tristan and sometimes to an old friend of mine, Mark.  All three of them told me last time that they didn’t like any of them.  Mark got the most philosophical by saying he liked the “back story” of the bands but not their music.  What?  Oh, aren’t we above it all?

Well, they can forget it; I’m not going to help them out anymore finding new music. That didn’t last long, I just sent off a new batch.  I am waiting for Emily and Mark to respond.  Tristan has already by telling me that the band just comes on too strong out of the box.

“This music is too fast for you?”, I ask with hurt disdain, “And how old are you?”  I always take it as a personal affront when my new music is rejected.

At Christmas I had Josh Groben playing in the back ground.  I’ve always loved back ground music when I have more than three people over.  It used to be Talk Talk back in the 80’s/90’s but for Christmas it should be Christmassy, don’t you agree?

Everyone got sick of that (feelings hurt again) so I tried Johnny Mathis.  My parents only had four albums growing up, Roger Whitaker, The Beatles (Magical Mystery Tour), Johnny Mathis and John Denver (can’t make this stuff up). I had a love hate relationship with them all, but the Johnny Mathis Christmas Album is a classic and had to be bought as a cd and played during the holidays.

Then there is my sister who is the ultimate snob when it comes to her musical tastes, even worse than me!  We headed into the kitchen to prepare the Christmas treats, appetizers etc.  I brought in the trusty old iHome and began to play my music list.

I say to Helen, “If there is anything you hate, let me know and I’ll go on to the next one.”

I am very considerate to certain people because I know my tolerance is non-existent for bad music (country).

The Fray’s remake of Kanye West’s “Heartless” came on.  I think Ellen’s interest was peaked a little, but then he started to sing things like:

“Why would she be so mad at me for?
Homie I don’t know she’s hot and cold
I won’t stop won’t mess my groove up “

Ellen said,”Okay, I can’t handle that anymore, please turn it off.”

I did immediately, I was afraid she was going to swear at me.