Staying Close to Your Kids Through Music

There’s a memory from my own childhood that’s so small, so seemingly insignificant, but it’s stuck with me all these years. I can still picture myself sprawled across my bed, flipping through a CD booklet while Mariah Carey’s voice filled the room. Or maybe it was Whitney Houston. Or the Backstreet Boys. The details blur, but one thing is clear: my mom was never listening to those songs with me.

It’s not that she didn’t love me or didn’t care about my interests. Far from it. She was just still vibing to the oldies, happily dancing around the kitchen to the songs that had been the soundtrack to her youth. And the funny thing is, I actually learned to love a lot of the songs she played. Some of those oldies are still on my playlists today. But it never went the other direction. She never really learned or loved the music I was obsessed with.

I don’t blame her at all. I’m not upset, and it was never something she did wrong on purpose. She was simply loving her music the way I loved mine. But now, looking back, I see how powerful music can be as a bridge between people, and how, during those tricky adolescent years, a shared love of certain songs could have given us one more way to connect. That realization is shaping the way I parent. I’ve made a promise to myself to learn the music my daughters love, so we can share not just the songs, but the joy, laughter, and connection that come with them.

Why Music Matters So Much

Music has a way of bypassing the noise in life and going straight to the heart. It’s a universal language, capable of building bridges between generations, cultures, and personalities. It’s how we celebrate, how we mourn, how we remember—and, most importantly, how we connect.

When Olive and I find a song we both love, something magical happens. We sing. We dance. We laugh. Sometimes we even cry. In those moments, there’s no parent and child, no age gap, no roles. Just two people sharing joy in the same beat, the same words, the same melody.

It’s pure connection.

And connection, especially as my girls grow, is the thing I want most.

Music as a Lifeline Through the Teenage Years

Anyone who’s lived through adolescence, either their own or their kids’, knows that the teen years can be complicated. These are the years when conversations may become fewer, when doors close more often, and when “How was your day?” is met with “Fine” more times than you can count.

But here’s the thing: I haven’t actually lived through my kids’ adolescent years yet, so I truly have no idea what I’m talking about. I can only imagine the phase where no matter what I do or say is instantly annoying, and every car ride turns into a game of “how few words can I answer Mom with.” Still, I’m holding onto this hope: even if they don’t want to talk to me, maybe we can still rock out to a song we both love. Maybe the music will bridge the silence in a way my questions can’t, giving us something to share when everything else feels like an eye-roll waiting to happen.

As a teen, music was my whole world. My headphones weren’t just an accessory; they were my lifeline. Those songs weren’t just entertainment. They were how I processed life. They were the lyrics I scribbled in my notebooks, the soundtracks to my crushes and heartbreaks, the words I leaned on when I didn’t know how to put my own feelings into sentences.

If my daughters’ teenage worlds are anything like mine, music will be a constant. And if I can show them that I’m genuinely interested in their music, not just tolerating it, not just teasing it, I’m giving us a shared language to stay close, even when other topics feel too hard or too raw to touch.

Becoming a Swiftie (and Loving It)

Case in point: Olive made me a Swiftie.

I didn’t just passively listen while she played Taylor Swift in the background. I learned the songs. I figured out which albums were her favorite. I wanted to know the stories behind the lyrics (even though she’s not old enough for that yet). And now? Now I can proudly say I’ve belted out “The 1” right alongside her, every single word.

It’s not about becoming her clone or forcing myself to love every single track (although honestly, Taylor makes that pretty easy). It’s about showing her that what matters to her matters to me, and not in a polite, “That’s nice, honey” way, but in a genuine, “Teach me so I can join you” way.

The Joy of Learning Their Music

Here’s what I’ve found: when you learn the music your kids love, you’re not just learning a song, you’re stepping into their world. You start to understand the artists they admire, the lyrics that speak to them, the beats that make them want to move.

It’s not unlike learning the slang they use or picking up the books they can’t stop talking about. But with music, there’s an added magic: you get to experience it together, in the moment. You can sing at the top of your lungs on the drive to school, dance barefoot in the kitchen on a Tuesday night, and build memories without even saying a word. Just letting the shared rhythm and melody do the talking.

And long after the phase passes, whether it’s boy bands or indie pop or something we haven’t even imagined yet, the memories will remain.

It’s Not About Agreeing, It’s About Engaging

Some parents might think, “What if I just don’t like their music?” And sure, maybe I won’t love every song my girls play for me. But that’s okay. This isn’t about agreeing on taste. It’s about staying engaged.

It’s about asking questions like:

“What do you love about this song?”
“What’s your favorite lyric?”
“When did you first hear it?”

It’s about letting them be the expert, the teacher, and me being the curious student. Because even when we don’t share the same opinion, the conversation itself and just sitting there listening together is connection.

Planting Seeds for the Future

When I think about the years ahead, I imagine my daughters and I swapping playlists the way some families swap recipes. I picture late-night drives with the windows down, the music loud, and no one worrying about anything except hitting the next note.

I hope that when they think of me years from now, they’ll remember not just the mom who made their lunches or helped with their homework, but the mom who sang their songs, who learned the words, who showed up in their world instead of asking them to always come to mine.

And maybe, when they have kids of their own, they’ll carry that tradition forward. Creating their own shared soundtracks that bridge the years.

Where Our Music Journey Goes Next

Right now, Olive and I are in our Taylor Swift era, and I couldn’t love it more. I know the seasons will change. Maybe next year we’ll be deep into Harry Styles, or a Broadway cast album, or some band I’ve never even heard of yet.

Wherever we go, I’m in. I’ll learn the songs. I’ll sing the harmonies. I’ll keep showing up in that space where music isn’t just sound, it’s connection, joy, and love wrapped up in melody.

Because music has a way of saying what words sometimes can’t. And if singing along to the songs my girls love keeps us close, even when adolescence hits, even when life gets complicated, then I’ll keep singing.

Always.