Motherhood, music, and money
(M cubed)
Motherhood, music, and money. Most of my time and attention goes to these three things. M cubed. How to have all three. How to make this three-piece jigsaw puzzle fit together. Is it even possible?
So many thoughts. So many things. Where to start.
This last week was a pretty good music week. I got to be in the studio two days in a row to record, which is something I love. This last Thursday I was in the studio recording some of my solo music. This is the first time I’ve ever really done that. The first time I’ve ever paid out of my own personal checking account to record my own music, so I was definitely hyper-focused and cognizant of the time. The expense of studio time is usually more abstract. When Deap Vally records, our little band fund pays for our studio time, which is a bit less real feeling. But I’m glad I went in and recorded. I needed this for my soul. To know that I was making progress on this solo project before I leave in ten days for Europe, for the final stretch of our farewell tour. I’ve got a combination of new(ish) songs, and then demos that have been kicking around for quite a while, but also old old songs from pre-Deap Vally days, that I want to re-record, because they’re so good and they should be out there in the world. Why not? So it’s going to be eclectic, but I like that. It’s fun to have a variety of flavors on a record. It’s all me, so who cares what genre each song is. I need to figure out a project name, a moniker (which is trickier than you’d think), or will I just use my own all-American name. I’m trying not to over-think things and just go with the flow and have fun because I feel that for much of my life, neuroses were my Achilles’ heel. I would think myself out of doing something. Out of writing songs. It’s supposed to be fun! And that’s where I’m at now. There’s always more songs. More records. More projects.
The next day, I was in the studio with Deap Vally recording something top-secret that we got asked to work on, which was really fun too. Something that pays a little bit, so that will give me another month to live off of before I have to figure out what the hell I’m gonna do. And then over the weekend we shot a music video, which I don’t want to spoil by telling you too much about, but you’ll find out soon enough! I was so tired during the shoot because Shiloh had been up for several hours in the middle of the night the night before, crying with a bad belly ache. Poor guy. We went to a kid’s birthday party and he ate some pizza and I think this is what made him feel sick. He turns one in five days, which is crazy. His birthday is on Mother’s Day this year. This year really flew by. We’re going to have to do his birthday party when I’m back from tour because it’s just not going to work out before. That’s okay, I guess. He won’t know the difference.
Yesterday was the first day of an eleven-day-straight swim class intensive that Georgia is taking right now. She is supposed know how to swim by the end of it, which will be a relief. Bodies of water and small children are what nightmares are made of. So I'm very excited for her to become a competent swimmer. We’ve tried swim classes at a few different spots, but trying to get your kid in the best swim programs in L.A. is like getting into an Ivy league school.
Everything is so competitive. You really have to be super on it, and I’m usually just not that type of person. I tried to get her in this program last summer, but wasn’t able to. We did a different one and it was pretty good, but I still didn’t feel like she was completely able to swim on her own by the end of it. So we’ve had to bust out the floaties here and there over the last year. But this eleven day course we’re in now should do the trick. So today was the second day, and we have swim class every morning for the next nine days. And then the day after that I fly out to Portugal. And I’m in that crazy headspace where I’m trying to balance life and work and all the things, before I leave again. I know I need to get stuff done, annoying life shit, like healthcare stuff and mail and bills and blah blah blah, but then I’m also trying to enjoy being with my family before I leave. And I’ve got this knot in my stomach because I’ve basically got a couple months to live off of and the I have to decide what I’m going to do. The truth is, I had a shit job the last couple years, because I needed the stable income, and it was okay, but I just didn’t really get to work on music while I was doing that job. But because I had this day job for a bit, I was able to get paid disability during my maternity leave, which I really needed. That’s what most women get in the U.S. to pay for their maternity leaves and I didn’t get that after my first pregnancy because I hadn’t paid into it. So I taught music lessons on Skype up until the very end of my first pregnancy, and then started up again two weeks after I gave birth. It was a crazy time. So I finally had to get a crappy day job, because I just wasn’t making enough money from music to live off of. Bu this last job I had, they wouldn’t give me the time off to do these tours. So I had to choose between touring and a really stupid job I didn’t care about. So obviously I chose the tour. And I’m really glad I did. In retrospect, I realize how toxic of a work environment I was in, and I’m so much happier spending my energy making music and being a mom. So in a way it’s been a blessing in disguise losing that job, and a bit of an experiment seeing how long I can survive for with creative endeavors like music and this blog, until I have to give myself over to a day job again. So I appreciate you guys who are paid subscribers. And I just got my first founding member on here, which is awesome, so thank you! He also has asked me to do a work for hire type thing, potentially, and I want to add that I am pretty open to these types of opportunities right now, or even playing private parties, etc. because I’m giving myself over to the art and the music and whatever opportunities they present.
On another note, I went on my first run in quite some time yesterday because I was super irritable and just knew that I needed to give that gift to my body and my soul. I needed to get my blood pumping, to clear my mind, and to sweat out the bullshit. And let me tell you, running is so much harder now. Now that I’m not a teenager and I’m not 110 lbs. I used to be this spritely little thing that could flatten hills. I got on varsity cross country as a freshman in high school. And I look back at that time as one of the happiest chapters of my life. And I think that is partially because I was so healthy and had so many endorphines running through my body from all the exercise I was getting. And the fresh air I was breathing outside. And the friendships I made. And I miss that. I’ve missed that for years. I need to get past that hump of discomfort which is that first three miles. After about three miles then that runner’s high kicks in and it’s a type of bliss. Like you’re running on clouds. Almost weightless. But yesterday I felt so awkward and uncomfortable. Not even like my muscles were burning or that my heart was pumping too hard, but that this body of mine felt so awkward and heavy, like it hardly remembered how to run. But I have two beautiful children and let me tell you, the out-of-shapeness is hardly a price to pay for those two angels. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I just have to keep it up, the running, and I know it will get easier. Like anything. I read an article about how to make running easier. And there were a few good tips in there. Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. Taking different routes so that you don’t get too bored. So I ran down one of my favorite streets in my neighborhood yesterday. Some beautiful houses on that street. And then lastly, having a mantra to keep yourself going. And this is an important one for me. I used to count while I was running. So I tried one of the mantras they suggested, which was: “One step at a time, one step at a time…” and I replayed it in my head. And then I alternated it with one I came up with: “I’m grateful for this body that carries me,” and then “I’m grateful for these legs that carry me.” As unpleasant as the running was, I tried to think about what it might be like to be someone who had lost their legs in an accident, and that maybe they would have wished they had put them to better use while they had had them and not taken them for granted. At least I’m sure that’s how I would probably feel in that situation. So I replayed those mantras and then came home and had a glass of white wine over dinner. And it tasted that much better knowing that I had earned it.
