Music · Music Monday · Nostalgia · Stories

Sweet Nostalgia: 5 Songs That Move Me Still | Eli @ Coach Daddy


Photo credit: DocChewbacca Ewok Rock via photopin (license)

You’ll never run out of things to say about music. Or nostalgia.

If they haven’t written every song there is to write about love and love lost and lost love and also entire continents (Africa, by Toto) and being spun like a record (baby), well, chances are they never will.

Nostalgia has just as many flavors as does music.

I know this, because I could have compiled a five-songs post for every emotion and every emotion in the margin of every emotion. From emo to zany. Instead, I relied on the random nature of the universe (and Pandora) to deliver to me songs that moved something inside.

Here are the five that did, and the emotions (and memories, and of course, the nostalgia) they evoked when I heard them: Continue reading “Sweet Nostalgia: 5 Songs That Move Me Still | Eli @ Coach Daddy”

Childhood · Parenting · Stories

We’ve Got This

The other night this little one sat down beside me with a piece of paper and a pencil. She began writing, telling me she didn’t want me to watch.

I smiled to myself, thinking she was likely drawing a picture, wondering what the beautiful result of her marks would be.

But minutes later, when she inched the page over my way with a sad look in her eyes, my smile fell along with my heart.

Butterflies and mermaids weren’t fluttering and flipping on it like I had expected; instead, there were words:

“I’m worried I’m not ready for second grade.” Continue reading “We’ve Got This”

Music Monday · Nostalgia · Recipes

Music Monday | 19 Songs For Your Spring Mix Tape + BONUS: Spring Mix Salad Recipes!

It’s May, It’s May!  The lusty month of May!

Well, actually, May is more than half over, but May is the quintessential month of Spring (at least sitting here in the Northern Hemisphere it is). So we thought it would be good to put together another fun collection of springtime music on this May Monday… These are songs that have to do with spring, songs that remind us of spring, songs that feel like spring, and songs that will likely put a spring in your step and maybe, just maybe, put a little love in your heart.

Speaking of love, did you watch the fabulous Royal Wedding this past weekend? Meghan Markle looked gorgeous, and Prince Harry looked dashing as ever. Springtime weddings can be tricky of course, as the unpredictable weather can be a challenge. Here in Colorado, it could be snowing in May. Or it could be 80 degrees. Right now, it’s 50 and rain… But the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, of course, experienced made-to-order wedding weather—crisp and clear with “wall-to-wall sunshine” as one meteorologist predicted.

The perfect spring weather, we’d say. Continue reading “Music Monday | 19 Songs For Your Spring Mix Tape + BONUS: Spring Mix Salad Recipes!”

Music · Music Monday · Nostalgia

21 New Songs That Totally Sound Like They’re From the 1980’s


Let’s face it: The 1980’s were filled with some of the awesomest, raddest, most totally tubular things.

Cartoons like Transformers and The Simpsons and He-Man and She-Ra. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, The Jetsons, Inspector Gadget, DuckTales, ThunderCats, Garfield, The Smurfs, G.I. Joe, The Real Ghostbusters, Alvin and the Chipmunks, Care Bears, Gummie Bears, J.E.M., The Legend of Zelda, Pound Puppies, and Fraggle Rock.

Shows like M*A*S*H and Roseanne and Married…With Children and Happy Days and Full House and MacGyver and Quantum Leap and Dynasty and Diff’rent Strokes and Night Court and Mork and Mindy and ALF and The A-Team and Magnum, P.I. and The Cosby Show and Mister Roger’s Neighborhood and Charles in Charge and Saved by the Bell and The Wonder Years.

Movies like Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, The Karate Kid, Beetlejuice, Uncle Buck, Top Gun, Flashdance, Footloose, Good Morning, Vietnam, Tron, The Princess Bride, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, The Return of the Jedi, The Blues Brothers, Big, Lethal Weapon, Airplane!, Caddyshack, Ghostbusters, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Back to the Future, E.T., and The Goonies. Continue reading “21 New Songs That Totally Sound Like They’re From the 1980’s”


One Day, I’ll Carry You


I carry my daughter, Zoey, carefully across a patch of snow-covered concrete. Because it is icy underneath my shoes, my steps are slow and measured.

“Will we get there in time?” Zoey asks, her face buried in my shoulder to shield it from the frigid air that surrounds us.

Our tickets for the Degas exhibit at the art museum are tucked safely in my pocket, stamped with a 10:30 entry time. I shift Zoey to my other hip and flick my wrist to check my watch. We have 15 minutes to spare.

“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “The museum’s right here. I promise we won’t miss a thing.”

* * *

I set her down once we are safe inside. The moment her toes touch the floor, she takes off twirling toward the check-in counter, her sparkly tutu swirling around her. We are handed special stickers to wear for the exhibit, and Zoey proudly presses it against her chest. She takes my hand, and together we find the line, waiting patiently for the doors to open.

When they do, Zoey pulls me forward, eager to begin our self-guided tour.

She delights in the artwork, pausing at each piece the way only a true art aficionado would. As I stop to look at a bronze sculpture of a horse, Zoey walks ahead to study the next set of paintings.

Moments later, I round the corner, my eyes scanning the room until I find her.

With quiet reverence, Zoey studies a painting of delicate dancers. They are peeking out from behind a curtain, dressed in taffeta and tights, preparing for a performance. I make my way toward her and then stop a few feet away, my gaze moving from Zoey to the painting, smiling at the symmetry created between art and real life.

A docent comes over and stands next to her.

“Hi, there,” he says, pointing in the direction of her feet, to the two reasons I carried her into the museum in the first place.

“Careful out there today with those ballet slippers of yours there. All that snow and ice is sure to make you slip, or at the very least, dirty them up quite a bit.”

“It’s okay,” Zoey smiles, “My mommy carried me.”

“Aren’t you too big to be carried?” he laughs. “And don’t you have boots?”

Inside, I feel a twinge of self-doubt flicker at my heart’s edge, wondering if I should have insisted she walked. I think of the boots laying haphazardly on the floor of the backseat, the ones I decided to leave behind in an effort to lessen my load.

“They’re in the car,” Zoey replies as her smile falls a bit. “And I don’t think I’m too big. Mommy says I’m just right.”

“That’s right, peanut. You are,” I say, my voice startling her a bit. She comes over and wraps her arm around my leg.

“And besides,” she tells man who is still listening to her but now looking at me. “One day, I’ll return the gesture. One day, I’ll carry her.”

I tilt my head down fast, tears instantly smarting my eyes. There, on the floor below me, lies my heart in a puddle on the ground, pooling around my feet. I hear him start laughing quietly again—an unspoken chide that she is a silly little girl to think that one day she would be strong enough to carry her mother.

Oh, this sweet girl of mine, I think. How do I tell her she already does?

* * *

 Afterward, I carry Zoey back to the car, holding her more tightly than before. I open the backseat door, pushing it open wide with my free hip so I can set her in her booster seat.

Zoey leans in toward me, tilting her face sideways, kissing the air beside one of my cheeks and then the next, in proper ballerina fashion.

“Thank you,” she whispers once she’s finished.

“For what?” I ask.

“For today,” she says. “For taking me to see the dancers. For letting me wear my ballet slippers. And for carrying me, even though that man thought it was silly.”

As she speaks, out of the corner of my eye, on the floor beside her, I see her boots, right where we left them. Suddenly, I feel that self-doubt the man’s comment created simply slip away. I know I made the right choice when I chose to carry her instead.

“I’d carry you even if your legs were so long your toes dragged on the ground,” I tell her. “Or if your arms were so long they wrapped around my neck not once, but twice. I’d carry you even if you weighed as much as a hundred ballerinas.”

Zoey’s laughter fills the space around us, and then she says it again:

“But really, Mommy,” Zoey insists as she wraps her arms around me. “One day, I really will carry you.”

There it is, the opening I wished for her earlier. My opportunity perches precariously in the space between us.

* * *

As mothers, we carry our children at first inside our hearts, then inside our bodies, and then inside our arms. We happily bear their weight, holding on to them for dear life, silently begging them to stay little for as long as possible.

Yet in spite of all our wishing and wanting and hoping for time to freeze them in that perfectly small shape, they grow into these tiny little humans—ones who sometimes—blissfully—still gift us fleeting reminders of the babies they once were: Like when their eyes catch the light a certain way, and we remember the first time they opened them. Or when we pick them up after they’ve fallen asleep on the couch and gently lay them in their beds, and we recall placing them in their cribs, as quiet as possible, so as not to wake them from their fragile slumber. Or when they laugh a certain way, and we are transported to the first time their effervescent joy bubbled out into the world, the way it made our hearts go lopsided.

But then, there they are, resting on your hip, wearing a pair of ballet shoes that are starting to look a little too tight, telling you the art exhibit you just attended was ‘simply delightful.’ They’re sitting in front of you, blowing kisses like a graceful Parisian, pulling you in for a hug, making promises of a lifetime of compassion and love.

And you’ll find that in this brief moment, where you’ve traded spaces and your head is on their shoulder for once, you’re left speechless again, realizing that you really don’t need to say a thing.

You don’t need to, because they already know. It is a truth they’ve carried with them from their first breath—that their love sustains you, that their life changed yours, that the weight of their existence will never be too much for you to bear.

So instead of saying anything, you simply breathe in that sweet baby scent that’s never quite left the crook of their neck. In the silence that remains, all you will hear is the slow, steady beat of your heart, the one whose rhythm and song has been so different since they arrived.

It’s you, your heart says the first time you hold them. It’s you. It’s you. It’s you.

You do, your heart says when they say they will one day carry you. You do. You do. You do.

And then, as you listen just a little closer, you will hear their heart, too—low at first, and then all at once loud—saying the exact same thing as yours:

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.

coreyCorey is a writer, graphic designer, and mom to her amazing daughter, Zoey. Here at The Nostalgia Diaries, her goal is to simplify, enhance, and engage people’s lives by helping them focus on the most important things: remembering, appreciating, believing, and becoming. It’s all about celebrating the past to create better days today.

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At The Nostalgia Diaries, our goal is to help you simplify, enhance, and engage your lives by focusing on the most important things: remembering, appreciating, believing, and becoming. It’s all about celebrating the past to create better days today.

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