It turns out that my flip phone is not the only thing that has me trapped in 2001. I also haven’t been able to figure out music since it went digital. My husband sets up tunes for me in different places, and I’ve completely allowed him to enable me for the past thirteen plus years since we've had children.  

We like to make a summer playlist so a few weeks ago I sent him a list of songs to, yes, put on a CD for me. It’s ok, you can laugh. As you might have guessed, he suggested putting the songs in a Spotify playlist instead. (He’s actually very kind and keeps a straight face when he makes suggestions like this to me.)

Ok, time for a little side story: I have this thing I say all the time, “God’s plan, not mine.” I came up with the phrase because it helps remind me to accept whatever life offers as something good that’s happening rather than bad. As Byron Katie taught us, "Everything happens for you, not to you."

Reason for the side story: The air conditioning in my car isn’t working right now. It gets Miami hot in there. The AC works in the back, but up front, my only choices are to complain or say “God’s plan, not mine”. Why would God want me so, so hot and irritable when I’m already struggling to be patient with my children through the summer months?

So here’s the scene: I have to go somewhere on the highway about an hour and a half away. No AC, 90°. While gassing up, I get a message from G Man Master De letting me know that he has just finished the summer mix and I can access it through my iPad (who knew?!). This is where God’s plan comes in; God, not I, knew how much I needed to put down all the windows in the MamaDe Mobile and blast music. I completely forgot how much overwhelming joy I get from hitting the open road, listening to loud music and singing at the top of my lungs while car dancing. IT WAS WONDERFUL! Thank you G Man! Thank you broken AC!

Attempting to navigate my life while managing the schedules and emotions of four other people every day is draining the crap out of me. I have been completely spent this summer, I earnestly question how I’ll make it to August. BUT, it feels so flippin’ good to rediscover some of those old tools and put them to use. Music absolutely heals my spirit, and right now it needs some healing. So I’m going to Pump up the jam, pump it up while my feet are stompin' and the jam is pumpin', look at here the crowd is jumpin'. If you’re wondering who the dancing old lady, playing the obnoxiously loud music is, that’s me—remember, it’s all in the name of saving the children.

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