Wednesday, October 12, 2011
I don't like Taylor Swift. Her songs are cute and very catchy, but I can't listen for too long. Girlfriend writes a song about everyone she's ever met, and unless there's some good dirt to hear, I really don't want to listen to a self-righteous song about her 6th grade math teacher or the lady who stole her parking spot at Target. Part of me really wants to shake that girl. She has awful taste in men. I mean really, Taylor? You dated John Mayer, of all people. What about him made you think he wouldn't be a douche? And then he dumped you? GASP. Wait wait! I have a brilliant idea....let's write another song about this! Yeah! That'll learn him!
Maybe I'm being mean, but for as mature as this girl comes off in her interviews, her songs are all very...young. She's taking real-life situations, some of which are very personal and painful for her and the other people involved, and she's essentially making bank off break up #6948. If she were my ex, I'd be pretty pissed.
There's one song, though, I can't get out of my head. I'd like to, but I can't, and I think it's because every time I hear that line, I think of my baby girl. The rest of the song has absolutely nothing to do with us, or my life, or my situation, but when she sings about "the best thing that's ever been mine", I can't NOT think of Hannah.
I can be proud. I'm vain. This weekend my sister-in-law and I were comparing stretch marks (we party hard) and she said she was proud of them; they're her battle scars. Me? No way. I don't like them. Not that I'm waving my stomach back and forth for the world to see but if there was a way to erase them completely, I would.
Over the last few years, I've assembled a short list of things that I've been most proud of. My college diploma. My wedding ring. My singing voice. My house. My small-but-mighty collection of aging books. My large collection of books in general. That one pair of jeans that makes my butt look really good. But the fact is that out of all of them, there isn't one I'd trade for my baby girl. There is nothing that can make a bad day better like she can. And while she means many things to many people, and while she's so loved by so many, she's mine. (Okay, and her dad's, too. But dammit, she came a'screamin' outta ME, so I get first dibs!) Hannah Grace is my daughter, my baby girl.
I'm not wild about Taylor Swift. I'll probably never go to her concerts, and unless she starts singing big girl songs I won't go out of my way listen to her music. But I will always have a space in my heart for this song, because without a doubt, Hannah is the very best thing that's ever been mine.