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And The Award Goes To

I don’t typically watch awards shows. Not in real time anyway.


I’ll just wait for E! News to give me the highlights on Instagram and watch whatever performances I deem necessary the next day on YouTube. While this is technically convenient because I don’t waste hours of my life watching people parade to and from a podium; it’s also a curse because I often abuse this technological convenience. So at a time when I was desperate for all things inspirational I didn’t see Paula Abdul’s BBMA performance in a timely manner and extended my stay in one of the most depressive spells I’ve had in my adult life by almost three weeks.


Leave it to Paula and her ability to slay a six minute mashup at 57-years-old to bring me back into the light. She’s one of the few celebrities I’ve met in real life and after spending most of my childhood choreographing dances in my basement dance studio to everything on the “Forever Your Girl” album it was an experience I can only describe as magical. I would post the photo but it was shortly after my mom failed to talk me out of getting my haircut like Kerri Strug at the 1996 Olympics. It’s not her fault really, I’m too tenacious for my own good and sometimes my tenacity results in me looking like a 6th grade boy.


Knowing that sometimes all it takes to keep me from walking into oncoming traffic is an epic production number, I opted to watch a rerun of the MTV Movie & TV Awards when it aired on Saturday afternoon. You see, Rinn has left for his annual summer visitation and while I’ve reached a healthy place of acceptance regarding his four-week absence one can never be too careful.




So I sat down to fold a load of laundry and watch a bunch of celebrities wear wild outfits. I was not disappointed in the least when the camera panned over Brie Larson who was legitimately dressed like half of a butterfly and Nick Cannon who looked like he might be preparing for an apocalypse in a gas mask and bulletproof vest. I suspect that being married to Mariah Carey affected his mental state. Can you blame him?


The first award, Most Frightened Performance. I laughed at the irony.


Sandra Bullock won for her performance in Birdbox. Well deserved if you ask me. Not that I saw anything else nominated in the category because I’m too busy watching and rewatching everything in the Avenger’s series but it’s not often that a movie makes me actually sweat while sitting at the edge of my bed. Usually I’m scrolling through Instagram while peppering Travis with “what’s going on?” questions because I’m only half paying attention.


Sandy explained that she made Birdbox for her children because it was about family and that “there isn’t anything [she] wouldn’t do for [them]” because what they would see in that movie is exactly “what [their] mommy would do for [them.]”


Her exact words:

“You are my first thought in the morning.

You are my last thought at night.

I was put on this earth to protect you.

You are my world.

I love you so much.

And I will move mountains to make sure that you are safe.”


While it would’ve been wonderful to reach out to Rinn at that very moment and squeeze him till my arms stopped working; there is a reason I heard these words while he is 1000 miles away and I’m alone, weeping on the couch.


Because life is hard and the universe can be awfully cruel sometimes.

Sorry, my cynicism is showing. Let me try that again.



Because I needed to be reminded that I have a purpose and that the difficulties we experience in this life are just designed to make us further appreciate our blessings. These difficulties can definitely elicit fear and insecurity and frustration but they can also be a catalyst for personal growth. My purpose as a mother is to unconditionally love and fiercely protect Rinn, the basest of maternal instinct, and if we’re ever in an apocalyptic situation you bet your ass I would go all Sandra Bullock on whatever alien invasion, zombie attack, smoke monster thing was out to get us. Also I would probably call Nick Cannon, you know for his outfit. But I think I have the protection part covered; just ask the miserly little boy who wouldn’t stop hitting Rinn in the back at the beach last week. Turns out I’m not above threatening small children in a low growl with “do you want me to hit you?” Don’t worry, I didn’t touch him. I didn’t have too, but I kept my hands clasped behind my back just in case.


Anyway, because our journey includes settling for FaceTime and text updates for four weeks of the year I also have a responsibility to mirror the characteristics of the bravest boy I know. It’s in these moments that I must demonstrate adversity in the face of fear, exhibit strength when it would be easier to be weak and show Rinn that even though life has its challenges, all of its worth living.


So for the next four weeks I'll be trying strength and confidence on for size.


Turns out the inspiration I was looking for wasn’t the usual song and dance.






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