Before OmegaMom met Soon-To-Be-Mr.-OmegaMom, she had very little exposure to such musical genres as country and western and rockabilly and folkabilly. However, Mr. OmegaMom, very much a product of the region where he grew up, loved "Southern Rock", country of a very particular type, and folkabilly. So, within days of us moving in together, he introduced me to Nanci Griffith. The power of repeated exposure has turned me from someone who winces at any tinge of country or hillbilly in my music into someone who really, truly loves Nanci Griffith, and would be willing to go to one of her concerts all on my own. This evening, to avoid the Scourge Of My Little Pony videos at dinnertime, OmegaMom and OmegaDad refused to turn on a second video when the first Blues Clues ended. And when he served dinner, Mr. OmegaMom turned on the stereo--a mix of The Band, Bob Dylan (live), Fleetwood Mac, and his darling, Nanci Griffith. After we were mostly done with dinner, one of my favorites came on, entitled "Turn Around": Where are you goin' my little one, little one? Where are you goin' my baby my own? Turn around and you're two Turn around and you're four Turn around and you're a young girl Going out of the door I started singing along, as did OmegaDotter, and I began to weep. "Are you sad, Mommy?" quoth the child. "I'm happy-sad, sweetie-pie," I responded. "Why?" "Because this song is all about a mommy watching her little baby grow up, and it seems like just yesterday that you were just an itty-bitty baby, and now you're so big..." "It's a beautiful song, Mommy..." "Yes, it is. Beautiful." Good golly. Right in the midst of the Most Horrid Two Week Stint Ever, where OmegaDotter has been pitching hissy fits left and right, and being whiny and snotty and, alas, a typical four-year-old, she turns around, and is beautiful and sweet and lovey-snuggly. And I can imagine her as a teen, and as an adult, and I realize just how quickly the time passes. Turn around and you're tiny Turn around and you're grown Turn around and you're a young wife With babes of your own 'Scuse me while I go bawl my head off...Goopy sentimentalism is reigning supreme today.

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Our Nanci Griffith CDs are cursed, and this CD has abruptly ended my sentimental mood: Every Nanci Griffith CD we have ends up having a bad skipping/repeating problem. Grrr. Time to break down and find a way to hook the Zen up into our sound system so we skip the skipping problem.