Reliving My Youth

I am a child of the 80s.  Born in 1979, I embraced all the neon, spandex, big-haired craziness of the decade. 

I still rock out to the 80s station on satellite radio on almost a daily basis.

For Mother's Day, my husband got me a trip down Memory Lane.

He bought me tickets for my two sisters and I to go see New Kids on the Block at the Patriot Center at GMU.

We were tempted to curl our bangs, crimp our hair, rock the side ponytails, and peg our pants.  But thankfully, we resisted. 

My sisters and I were excited and apprehensive before the concert.  I am not exaggerating when I say that in my younger years I was OBSESSED with New Kids on the Block.  I am from Boston.  They are from Boston.  I knew people who knew them, although I never did get to meet any of them.  That's probably for the best because I can almost guarantee I would have made a fool of myself.  We were concerned that the concert couldn't possibly live up to our high expectations and gloried memories.

We were wrong!

The New Kids rocked it.  And my sisters and I were screaming, shouting, shrieking fools, having a great time.  We sang and danced, we waved our hands in the air and jumped up and down.  A few tears may even have been shed.

After the concert, we drove home with our New Kids CD playing in the car, to our kids and our jobs and our grown-up lives. 

But for a few hours, I was a pre-teen again.  And it was way more fun this time than it was in '89--which was the last time I was at a New Kids concert.

Original DC Metro Moms blog post.

Jess M. can be found rocking out to New Kids on the Block, and writing on her personal blog A Bushel and a Peck.