life

Girls Just Wanna Have…Fun and Friends and Music and Joy!

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I’ve always been a music girl (well, rock-n-roll girl in particular).  I’ve been aware of pop music, classic rock, and other genres since I was a kid. I’m a pretty eclectic music fan. I grew up on John Denver, Neil Sedaka, Oak Ridge Boys and a variety of 60s hits my mom and dad played.  I listened to the late 70s pop hits played on the radio.  I listened to my aunt and uncle’s records they stored at my grandparents house. I memorized the words to the entire Grease soundtrack, popular when I was young.  At that time, our record player was in our kitchen, and I’d play a record and dance around, belting out all of the lyrics.  This is a fond childhood memory of mine and is probably why I feel like the kitchen should be a warm and welcoming center of activity in any home.

I started my own record collection at a young age, with my first musical selection being Shaun Cassidy.  I loved him!  I bought his first record at my grandpa’s Ben Franklin store, and I’d play that record on repeat and sing.  When I was six years old, my grandparents got me four tickets to go to the Shaun Cassidy concert in Wichita as my Christmas gift.  My parents and my two year old sister and I all journeyed to the concert.  Shawn started singing, and I burst into tears.  In my memory, it was my six year old self sobbing as if the Beatles themselves were playing.  If you played “Da Doo Ron Ron” right now, it would take me right back to this particular era of my childhood. Shaun taught me early on that I loved a good concert — thousands of people letting go of insecurities, singing and dancing and sharing the joy of music. 

Since then, I have realized that music sets people free.  It inspires.  It gets people out of their heads and lets them cut loose.  Live music, in particular, can sometimes feel like “church” when you’ve got a crowd of people all singing an artist’s songs, swaying to the music, enjoying life and feeling uplifted.  (I’m thinking U2 in Kansas City in 2017.  Amazing!)  This shared experience is what has always drawn me in.  Recently, I experienced this again — this time at a  Cyndi Lauper concert.  

When I was in Middle School, Cyndi Lauper was my jam.  I had her album She’s so Unusual, and I knew all the words to every song on the album.  (This was back in the day when we listened to a whole album instead of cherry picking a few songs.)  I would hole up in my room and listen to my records, especially this one.  I’d belt out “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” as if it were my own personal anthem.  Perhaps it was and is.  When I hear these songs today, I am transported back to my 12 year old self — shy, insecure, but brought to life through music.  Cyndi’s songs transport me back to when I had a crush on a boy named Mark, I teased Mr. Beye every day in Science class, I hung out with Michele and Kristyn on the weekends.  I have a very strong tie to Cyndi Lauper in particular, although all pop music in the 80s (and beyond) has had this effect on me.  Albums and songs connect me to specific times in my past.

Fast forward to my child-rearing years.  My husband and I are both huge music nerds, and we exposed our kids to a lot of different kinds, especially the music of our youth.  At some point along the way, my daughter Ally found Cyndi Lauper.  It could have been through Spotify or on a car ride with me.  Either way, she and I would be riding around in the car, belting out “True Colors” or “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” and enjoying life.  Ally shared my love of music, and some of our best times were spent simply driving around and singing.

In 2020, Ally died.  She’d fought glioblastoma for nearly 3 ½ years.  We had a lot of songs we loved to listen to together — songs that when they are played today bring me back to my days of parenting Ally and spending time with her.  We both liked “Walking on Sunshine,” ”Here Comes the Sun,” “Raise your Glass,” and of course “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.”  It was sort of our mantra.  We loved to live our lives doing fun things together, singing, dancing, laughing, and just hanging out.  We even had “moves” to some of our favorite songs, which thinking about it today, may not have been all that safe when we were in the car!  When I hear our favorite tunes, I think of Ally.  Sometimes these songs make me sad, but usually they make me smile and feel grateful for these good times.  

Now back to Cyndi Lauper. A few months ago, I went to a Cyndi Lauper concert with my friends Cheri and Kristy.  I was so excited as I had never seen Cyndi live before, and like I said, she was my middle school jam.  Prior to the concert, I’d done a little costume planning.  I bought a t-shirt and cut off the neck to make it an off the shoulder, 80s sort of tee.  I dug out my bright palette of eye shadow so I could paint my eyes in three colors like Cyndi sometimes did.  I found some old Converse hightops, and I added some colorful hair strands to my hair to complete the look.  I was excited — almost as giddy as I was in high school and going to a concert with my friends! 

When we got to the concert and parked, I perused the crowd of concert-goers.  I figured Cyndi would draw an interesting crowd, and I was not disappointed.  There were tons of middle-aged moms just like me wearing 80s retro outfits.  There were kids.  There were older folks.  There were men wearing kilts. There were twenty-somethings who, like Ally, had also discovered Cyndi’s music. It was a crazy, fun mish-mash of people and outfits and hair colors.  It was a rock-n-roll Love Fest of sorts.  

I was nervous that I’d cry when Cyndi took the stage — that my memory of Ally and I driving around town, heads bobbing to Cyndi’s songs would make me sad.  However, as Cyndi came out and began to sing, I only felt joy.  In the middle of the show, the moon came out and was framed beautifully by clouds.  I took this as a nudge from Ally saying, “Mom, I’m here too! Let’s rock out!”

So I belted out all of the favorite songs of my youth, but especially the songs Ally and I used to sing in the car.  I danced, and I hugged my friends.  I enjoyed the muggy summer night with a hoard of strangers who, for ninety short minutes, felt like friends.  I let the music wash over me and fill me up.  And at the end of the night, Cyndi’s music brought me right back to 2017, in my white RAV4, running errands with Ally and singing these words:  

But I see your true colors

Shining through

I see your true colors

And that’s why I love you

So don’t be afraid to let them show

Your true colors

True colors

Are beautiful…like a rainbow

In a way, these songs let me preserve pieces of Ally — nearly tangible and treasured memories of time spent with my sweet girl.  That’s what songs do for me; they provide a soundtrack to my life.  Even when the people I love are gone, I still have memories of them captured through songs; I still have the pure joy these songs bring.

Crysta Hudson-Baier’s Extraordinary Playlist  (in no particular order)

  • Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper
  • Jessie’s Girl by Rick Springfield
  • They Don’t Know by Tracy Ullman — This song makes me think about Rich and how people used to think our relationship was a little unusual because of our playful banter.  
  • Leaving on a Jet Plane by John Denver — My dad once told me a story about this song, and I cry (and usually call my dad) every time I hear it.
  • Calendar Girl by Neil Sedaka — This was one of my mom’s favorites.  We listened to it in our kitchen in our house on Ohio Street.
  • I Want to Hold your Hand by The Beatles — This was on the first Beatles record that I ever bought with my own money.
  • Hopelessly Devoted by Olivia Newton-John — Elementary school Crysta used to skate around in our unfinished basement on Money Street and pretend to be Sandy, heartbroken over Danny Zuko.  
  • I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For by U2 — This song reminds me to always keep seeking.  
  • Just Like Heaven by The Cure
  • Fallen Angel by Poison
  • 18 and Life by Skid Row
  • Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles — This song expresses one of my deepest beliefs — that things eventually get better.  The sun eventually reappears.
  • In My Life by The Beatles — This is probably my 2nd favorite Beatles song.  I want this song played at my celebration of life.  
  • Country Roads by John Denver
  • Shake it Off by Taylor Swift
  • Longview by Green Day
  • These Days by the Foo Fighters
  • Free to Decide by The Cranberries — This was my drive to work/girl power anthem my first five years of teaching.  I still listen to it when I need a boost.
  • California Stars by Billy Bragg and Wilco — Rich recently turned me on to this song, and it just brings me joy.  The lyrics were written by Woody Guthrie and later set to music.  If you have not heard it, go immediately to Spotify and listen.
  • Amish Paradise by Weird Al — I mean, what can I say?  I have loved Weird Al since the 80s.  His shows never disappoint.
  • Pink Pony Club by Chapell Roan
  • Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift
  • It’s Tricky by Run DMC
  • Imagine by John Lennon
  • Don’t Let me get Me by Pink

A Few Thoughts on Motherhood

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I’m sitting in my local salon having “hair therapy” with my stylist.  We are talking about motherhood.  My stylist is about twenty years my junior, and her son is a toddler; my son is twenty-three.  And yet, the topic of motherhood, whether the child is young or a young adult, connects us.  I’m reminding her to listen to her intuition, not the myriad of people who have “advice” for her.  I’m reminded to do the same for myself, even now.

If you’d asked me in my early twenties, I would have told you that my biggest life aspiration was to be successful in my career (education).  I figured that I would have children at some point, but I’d sort of always planned on spending my twenties and maybe early 30s focusing on work.  Looking back, it’s interesting that I would have had such a lackadaisical attitude toward being a mom.

Today, even though my son is officially grown, I feel like my most important job in the world is being a mother.  J, my firstborn, changed everything.  I remember feeling both excited and terrified to be expecting.  I babysat a fair amount as a kid, but I didn’t have much experience with babies.  I had A LOT to learn.  On the day J was born, I was handed my new little bundle, and I’m sure my expression was priceless — one of pure fear!  At 29, I was still learning how to take care of myself.  How was I supposed to keep an infant alive?

After J was born, I took two months of maternity leave.  I remember laying him on his tummy on the floor and reading books to him when he was just days old.  I used to hold him until he got squirmy just marveling at his chubby cheeks, his tiny fingers, his long eyelashes.  I was certain that I had created the perfect little human.  

The years of parenting this kid from birth to adulthood were filled with high highs and some lows as any honest parent will admit.  Parenthood — motherhood —  is the most challenging of all jobs.  I can go into a classroom and, for the most part, not take the behavior of my students personally.  As a mother, however, I got my feelings hurt a lot.  I doubted myself.  In fact, I still doubt myself.  I could speak to my doubts here, but that’s a whole other discussion.  

Ultimately, here is what I have come to believe: Mothering is not a “one size fits all” endeavor.  There are many ways to be a good mother. I have friends who were stay-at-home moms; I have friends who were essentially the breadwinner of their family.  I consider myself somewhere in between since, as a teacher, I was home in the summers but also brought in income.  Yet none of these versions of motherhood are ALL right or ALL wrong.  We moms are very skilled in figuring out what is right for our own family.  (We’re also very good at feeling guilty about whichever choice we make.)

In my own case, I may have been a working mom, but I feel like I was an involved one.  I also checked J’s backpack, kept in touch with his teachers, took him to school functions, attended his sporting events.  I made time to spend alone with him both before and after his sister was born.  I read to him all the time, including in the place he loved as a toddler — his closet.  I helped move him into his college dorm, and I attended Mom’s Weekends for his fraternity.  I did these things because I love J, I love being a mom, and spending time with my kid is important to me.

Fast forward to J at 23.  After graduating from college, he is home for a brief stretch.  He’s planning on renting a place with his friends in the new year.  He’s ready to be out on his own.  And here’s my dilemma.  How do I mother an adult child as I am no longer needed in the same way?  J has an adult job now that he found on his own without me nagging him.  He is getting to work each day on time, and he is managing his own finances.  J is doing his own grocery shopping and cooking his own meals.  Even though I miss little J with long eyelashes and lots of opinions, I am over the moon proud of the man he is becoming.  Today he still has long eyelashes and loads of opinions, but he is also (mostly) self-sufficient.

So what does momming J look like now?  I’m still figuring this out.  Here’s what I’m trying to do.  I’m trying to give him independence.  I’m trying to let him figure things out on his own…unless he specifically asks for help.  I’m trying to not judge his decisions and not nag him about future plans (although, let the record state that at some point, I’d really love some grand kids).  I’m trying to be someone steady in his life who loves him unconditionally — someone that he knows he can come to no matter what.  I’m trying to let go and let J soar.  

Over the years, I have learned that being a “good” mom means loving the little person who grew inside me through the darkest of times, through the triumphs and through the many different stages of life.  Being a mom – J’s mom – was and is a privilege; though it has sometimes been hard, I am grateful for the ways in which being J’s mom has changed and challenged and stretched me. 

“Eventually they will leave your home and head out into the world on their own. While they are growing there is little time to think about Big Things – you’re too busy making sure that at least most of the balls you’re juggling stay in the air.” 

Erma Bombeck