we're all raising indie rockers

The other day I was flipping through a free, community based, Brooklyn newspaper and I saw an article about an indie rock band whose members were all twelve years old. The name of their band was something pithy, post-modern and violent sounding. In the photo accompanying the article there were three messy-haired, slihtly androgynous looking kids (two boys and a girl, or vice versa, hard to tell, they all had the same haircut) sitting on a couch, smirking disinterestedly. A year ago I would have glanced at the article, smiled and moved on, but this article somehow touched a nerve.

When you become a parent you become also riddled with doubt over, what seem to be, simple, every day decisions. Of course, not much changed with me, only now I have one more little person to hem and haw about. I realize that I can only exert so much control over my daughter. As much as I feel she is a part of me (seriously, like an extra limb), I also know she is her own, unique person. She will like things that I don't like and dislike things that I love. This is the nature of the parent/child relationship. It's cruisy and fun for a few years (um, like 11) and then suddenly the child will laugh at the clothes you pick out for her and walk a good deal behind you in public.

Looking at my sweet daughter now, a precious baby who can't go more than three hours with out wanting to nurse, who stops crying when I take her into my arms, who twirls her hair as she is falling asleep, who plays with other babies, but looks to me for reassurance and looks at everything with wonder and awe, it is hard to believe she will ever disagree with me, or I with her or worse, (much worse) think I am lame or feign or (much, much worse) really feel indifference. And so this photo of the indie rocking twelve year olds made my blood run just a little cold. I couldn't help but wonder, am I raising an indie rocker? Did the parents of these little indie rockers know they were raising kids who'd feign indifference and look sulky and be ironic before they even hit their teens? Did they lead their kids to that path of too-cool-for-school, messy-haired disinterest or did they discourage it or did they just do nothing at all? Is it inevitable?

Ridiculous as it may sound, these are the sorts of questions that haunt me, because parenting is about understanding that down the road you will know that some of your actions influenced the development of your child, but it's hard to know which ones and what effect they will have when you are actually doing the parenting and making the decisions. I don't want my child to be an indie rocker. I would much prefer her to be a dork, earnest, only rarely ironic, smart and unconcerned with being cool. Okay, okay, I know I am supposed to say that I want my child to be happy and well-adjusted, but let's face it, that is pretty much the same as saying I want my child to be a dork. I guess, what I really want is for my child to retain a sense of wonder for the world. I want her to be excited by little things. I want her to be unafraid to show that she is excited by little things. I want her world to unfold gradually so that there is always something that surprises her and she is never bored. I don't want her to be (or even pretend to be) world-weary and jaded before she has even made it through puberty.

So, should we move to the country, grow our own vegetables, make our own plates? Homeschool? Sould we stay in the city and avoid cool people at all costs? Move to Spain? Move to the country in Spain? Do they have indie rockers in Spain? How about Cambodia? Cancel the cable? But, really, is there a way to stave off adolescence (because that is what this is, isn't it?)? No. I think it would find us, even in the countryside of Spain, maybe in a slightly different guise, but it would show up to claim our daughter in some way or another.

Well, at least I have about 11 years (of agonizing over choices) until that day comes. Right now, I have a dirty diaper to change.