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Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Out of the Mouths of Babes

**Originally posted October, 2012

Because The Voice is getting ready to ramp back up and I can finally get my weekly fix of Adam Levine again, I thought I would re-post in his honor.  Plus, I've got some new readers, so, welcome to the damaged goods that is me.

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My morning routine consists of waking up at 5:00, making my coffee and walking entirely too many dogs (3) on a mile and a half trek, praying we don’t run across an errant squirrel or rabbit.  (There’s not enough Cesar Millan in the world to keep my 3 dogs from taking me out for critter in our path.  Pack Leader, my ass.)  To reward myself for participating in such a Fear Factor-esque stunt each morning, I take refuge on my couch and enjoy the commercial-less shows I DVR’d the night before.  On my lineup this morning - The Voice. 

The show started off like any other; entirely too much build up for 2 minutes of singing - albeit very good singing – and because it’s the “Battle Rounds” each song completion resulted in one of the coaches selecting a winner from the competing duo.
 
So there I sat, in the dark, sipping my coffee and watching these amazingly talented people sing for their lives when all of a sudden, I’m bawling like a baby.  I don’t mean I got teary.  I mean doubled over, head in hands, mouth open, drool descending, audible gasps, ugly crying.  I even did the breath thing your 3 year old does when he’s worked himself into a tantrum frenzy.  You know, the one that when they attempt to speak it comes out like they’re being punched in the stomach with each syllable – why-y a-am I-I cry-y, i-ing (yes, I actually said these words aloud with only me in the room.)  What the hell, drama?  Even my dogs were profoundly confused. 
I mean, sure, I get teary when I witness an amazing voice or hear a song sung better than the original - especially when it comes out of an unsuspecting subject - but this was just a run-of-the-mill duo singing a song, doing what they were born to do.  And that’s when it hit me.  They were BORN to do this.  They have their childhood idols extolling their greatness on national TV, validating their very existence on this earth, confirming everything they had been working for and sacrificing for all their lives.  The coaches utter phrases such as, “You were born to do this,”  “You belong on my team,” and my very favorite line from the smokin’ hot Adam Levine, “You are very, very special.”  

Just once…  But I digress.


So why get all weepy about some strangers on TV receiving validation for something they were born to do?  Because they knew what they were born to do.  They knew what they wanted to be when they grew up.  They had it figured out and had people who saw the potential in them to grow them into accomplished "whatevers" – to help them achieve their dreams.
What was I born to do?  Who is extolling my greatness?  Who is validating me?

On some level I’ve always known that I didn’t have the drive to do any one thing.  And I think that’s because I realized I’m not particularly good at anything.  That’s a harsh reality and one I’ve never really taken the time to say out loud.  Karen, you are not exceptional - you have no discernible talent that will catapult you into fame.  There, I said it, and it sucks.  I guess I will never know what it feels like to be the best at something or hear Adam Levine say to me, “You are very, very special.”

And that’s when my son came out from his bedroom with his bed-head hair, rubbed his sleepy eyes and - without even asking me why I was crying - slowly turned to the TV and said, “Oh, The Voice is on!  Mom, I wish you were famous.  That would be so cool.” 

What a little bastard.




21 comments:

  1. Oh, Karen, I know what you mean. This journey of blogging has made me realize that I'm just kind of ordinary. Average. Not that funny, not that creative, definitely not that crafty. Then my husband said, "You are special to us. You are the world to us." What a bastard.

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    1. Right!? Your husband sounds horrible - just like my son! :) But I've read your stuff, Melissa - you're one funny lady! You keep on keepin' on!

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  2. I'm so excited for The Voice to come back on! I'm Team Blake, myself. Adam is pretty damn sexy, but nothing beats a country boy in my book!

    You're wrong, though, Karen - you have a gift of writing! You are an amazing writer and you suck people in with your wit and snark in such a perfect way. I was smitten from the first post I read of yours and it didn't take long before I was digging way back to your first post to read more and more of what you've written.

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    1. I love me some Blake, too. But since Miranda's got a firm hold on that, I like to pretend that Adam could come to his senses one day and come find me. :) And thank you! I wasn't vying for compliments with that statement, by the way. And I need to get back and comment on your ghost post! I read it when we were in the car to Six Flags (eat a bullet) and I couldn't post for some reason...but I loved it. ;) And you!

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  3. LOL - kids are something else. One minute they say something unbelievably kind, the next minute they will totally kill your ego.

    I remember standing on the scale in the bathroom when my then 4-year-old daughter walked in and said "are you getting to be a big girl yet?" (that's what I always say to her whenever she got on the scale). Then she looked down at the numbers on the scale and said "wow mommy, you are really super big." From then on, the only time anyone saw a scale was at the doctor's office.

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    1. Hahaha!! Ryan once told me that I looked bigger because I was in heels. Then he said, "Oh, it's because your boobs are way up here and now your stomach is in front of my face. And yeah, it's bigger." I haven't worn heels since...(and may never again).

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    2. Every time I put on makeup, my daughter asks me, "What's the occasion, mom?" Never fails.

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    3. Ryan asks me that same question any time I get out of my jammie pants.

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    4. Change out - when I CHANGE OUT of my jammie pants.

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  4. Bawhahaha! Ok, let me compose myself...

    I'm sorry it's at your expense, however I'm glad to know I'm not alone. I have never been able to figure out what I wanted to do when I grew up. Nothing ever interested me enough to take a giant leap of commitment - like the four-year kind, or the dump every penny into it kind.

    Oh well...greatness schmeatness...and for what it's worth, I think you're pretty great.

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    1. I haven't, either! But this writing thing has become a love of mine that I'm glad I found. I probably don't post enough to be a blogger, really, but that's cool.

      And ma'am, I think you're pretty great, too! Especially now that I know you're a fellow midwesterner!

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  5. I asked my family what I was really good at, and they hemmed and hawed a bit before coming up with, "You have really good handwriting." Sigh. The silver lining is that the waves of mediocrity make me fall just under the radar. Nothing exceptionally good OR bad to alert the authorities....

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    1. Dyanne!!! LOLOLOL! That is hilarious. I wish I could see your handwriting - I'm sure it's exceptional! For what it's worth, your typing skills are top notch! ;)

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  6. I have to chime in and say you are very, very special. I'm no Adam Levine but hey! You put yourself out there on your blog. You write, and write well. That IS special, that IS a gift and not everyone can do it! Have you read a bad blog? They are out there. Yours is not one of those.

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    1. I truly didn't post this to receive kudos, but I will take them all day long! An absolutely HUGE compliment - thank you!

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  7. Kids are such assholes.

    I haven't asked my family this question. I really don't want to see the look of confusion and fear as they stumble for something appropriate to say...which would take a lot longer than I'd hope I'm sure.

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    1. P.S. I think you're pretty darn awesome.

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    2. I would NEVER ask this question - Ryan already has an artful way of knocking me down 12 notches without even trying. And thank you - I think you're pretty darn awesome, too.

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  8. Think of each commenter (commentor?) as your own personal Adam Levine. Only with better tattoos.

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    1. That's exactly what I'm doing! They don't even have to have tattoos (I'd prefer it, but they don't have to)

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