Monday, March 21, 2016

Dear Adele, We Love You, Too

It had to have been a sight to behold. Huffington Post had an article  that Adele had her most important critic at the show that evening: she had allowed her three year old son to watch her perform. Her eyes welled with tears as she sang.

Dear Adele,

It had to have been hard. Where most moms leave for work and have a semi-normal schedule, you've had to balance tour dates, rehearsal times, albums, and awards around having a son. I just wanted to tell you that as a mom... We understand.

Of all the royalty you could sing in front of, the Presidents, the crowds, Moms understand that nothing beats singing your sweet boy to sleep. Nothing beats "Itsy Bitsy Spider" for the upteenth time.

It's hard. It's hard to work and have a little one. I remember the first time I had to leave for work and knew he wasn't feeling well. I cried all the way to the office, knowing he was in good hands, but aching to be the one to cuddle him all day. I don't know if you've ever had to do a show or a tour and he cried for you, but it's happened to all of us at one time or another.

As moms, if you had to cancel a show because your son was sick, we'd totally understand.

I sing your rendition of Bob Dylan's "To Make You Feel My Love" to both of my boys. To me, that song is far more fitting to sing to someone who was once wiggling inside you than to anyone else you could ever love.

You are a beautiful example of Womanhood. You're brilliant, talented, funny, and successful. But we both know that when you look in the mirror, you'll never see your body the same way. Everything looks different after you've grown a human. While I'll be the first to admit I could lose a few pounds, I've grown two people. I've birthed them. I've nursed them. My body is pretty awesome, and I hope you think the same way about yours.

Of all the things I want for my children, I want them to know that I love them. I saw, in that moment, the look of outpour in your eyes. You wanted him to know that when you have to leave him, it's not because he's not important, it's just because of your job. You want him to know that you'd take eating spaghetti with him and giving him a bath (baths usually follow the eating of spaghetti in our house) over anything else. You want him to know that everything you've ever done was for him - even before he existed.

Of all the awards that could ever be offered. The Grammys, The Emmys, The Tonys, the Nobel Peace Prizes, the money and fame, are all wonderful (I'm told, anyway) but we all understand what you are most proud of: being a mother.

So, Adele, we moms get it. Go cuddle that sweet boy of yours; read Goodnight Moon about 10 times, sing him a silly song under the covers, and cherish that little spirit. We moms know that time goes by so quickly.

Hugs, Momma. Your son is proud of you.

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