On singing, and the babies...
Nov. 8th, 2005 06:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
conuly
So, today we all of us went to the museum. This is notable because, for a change, we went a different route. And we got lost not because I didn't listen to Jenn, but because *she* didn't listen to *me*. I was so stunned by this that I made her say "you were right" three times. (Yes, I really am that annoying.)
Because we were late, they didn't charge us for the toddler program (art today), which was nice. Ana painted, then glued stuff to paper to make a kinda abstract collage. (Note: I could use stuff-to-glue, including packing peanuts, puffballs, googly eyes, feathers, painted wood shaving things, tissue paper, etc. This is my daily beg.)
We go home, Jenn and Ana eat while I hold the baby, bouncing her to keep her from crying, and singing to distract myself from the fact that I'm ravenous. And I sing children's songs. And I sing ballads. And I sing a shanty (just one). Eventually, the baby, long since having settled down, closes her eyes, so I turn her sideways to rock her. And then after I think she's asleep, I stop singing. I had to start up again 15 minutes later, because she woke up.
Ana gets a song when I put her to bed (and again when I put her to bed *again* as she didn't fall asleep the first time!), I eat my lunch, and then I sit with Jenn, who's trying to calm a crying baby who she doesn't know why she's crying. And she's patting the baby, and holding the baby in various positions, and nursing the baby, and nothing's working. Finally, she suggests that I might sing something - just joking, I think, but I take her up on it and start in with "Hush-a-bye". Not three words in, the baby is silent. I'm not joking. At the end of the song, she's calm, and starting to close her eyes. So, to make sure she sleeps, I do beautiful dreamer - and she's out. It was freaky how quickly that worked.
Singing's what I *do*. I sing under my breath as I work, as I walk, as I try to go to sleep. I work to learn new (old, really, but new to me) songs every week. I sing to Ana when she's sitting on the toilet, when we're playing, when she's about to take a nap, when she makes a request for a specific song. I'm not *great* at it, but I'm competent, at least - I can carry a tune, with or without a tin bucket :) And if I'm not singing, I'm reciting poems. My grandmother, she didn't have poems or songs - her mother recited stories, fables and such, the same words every time.
Singing is what *people* do, really. There's a reason that we all assume everybody has lullabies (and they very well might, but I can't prove it). Singing to children is inherantly rewarding - they don't know if you're good or not, so as long as you don't have any damaging hangups about your voice, you're good.
And I'm sitting there, getting a shopping list from Jenn (which I promptly forgot to take with me), thinking about this - and getting seriously irritated at the "What to Expect" book for suggesting, instead of singing lullabies, that you play a recording of your favorites. I'm not saying they said "you can do this instead", they didn't even bring up the more obvious choice.
I don't want Ana and Evie to grow up thinking that music is something other people do, that they can't sing. Singing is fun. It's distracting. It's cheap entertainment. Can't catch me paying people royalties to do what I'm perfectly capable of doing myself.
Because we were late, they didn't charge us for the toddler program (art today), which was nice. Ana painted, then glued stuff to paper to make a kinda abstract collage. (Note: I could use stuff-to-glue, including packing peanuts, puffballs, googly eyes, feathers, painted wood shaving things, tissue paper, etc. This is my daily beg.)
We go home, Jenn and Ana eat while I hold the baby, bouncing her to keep her from crying, and singing to distract myself from the fact that I'm ravenous. And I sing children's songs. And I sing ballads. And I sing a shanty (just one). Eventually, the baby, long since having settled down, closes her eyes, so I turn her sideways to rock her. And then after I think she's asleep, I stop singing. I had to start up again 15 minutes later, because she woke up.
Ana gets a song when I put her to bed (and again when I put her to bed *again* as she didn't fall asleep the first time!), I eat my lunch, and then I sit with Jenn, who's trying to calm a crying baby who she doesn't know why she's crying. And she's patting the baby, and holding the baby in various positions, and nursing the baby, and nothing's working. Finally, she suggests that I might sing something - just joking, I think, but I take her up on it and start in with "Hush-a-bye". Not three words in, the baby is silent. I'm not joking. At the end of the song, she's calm, and starting to close her eyes. So, to make sure she sleeps, I do beautiful dreamer - and she's out. It was freaky how quickly that worked.
Singing's what I *do*. I sing under my breath as I work, as I walk, as I try to go to sleep. I work to learn new (old, really, but new to me) songs every week. I sing to Ana when she's sitting on the toilet, when we're playing, when she's about to take a nap, when she makes a request for a specific song. I'm not *great* at it, but I'm competent, at least - I can carry a tune, with or without a tin bucket :) And if I'm not singing, I'm reciting poems. My grandmother, she didn't have poems or songs - her mother recited stories, fables and such, the same words every time.
Singing is what *people* do, really. There's a reason that we all assume everybody has lullabies (and they very well might, but I can't prove it). Singing to children is inherantly rewarding - they don't know if you're good or not, so as long as you don't have any damaging hangups about your voice, you're good.
And I'm sitting there, getting a shopping list from Jenn (which I promptly forgot to take with me), thinking about this - and getting seriously irritated at the "What to Expect" book for suggesting, instead of singing lullabies, that you play a recording of your favorites. I'm not saying they said "you can do this instead", they didn't even bring up the more obvious choice.
I don't want Ana and Evie to grow up thinking that music is something other people do, that they can't sing. Singing is fun. It's distracting. It's cheap entertainment. Can't catch me paying people royalties to do what I'm perfectly capable of doing myself.
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no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 10:51 pm (UTC)You are definitely not the "sit the baby in front of the TV" type babysitter... I try not to be, but it's a real effort.
There's a reason that we all assume everybody has lullabies
I don't really have that assumption, but that's probably because I never think about it.
And I'm sitting there, getting a shopping list from Jenn (which I promptly forgot to take with me), thinking about this - and getting seriously irritated at the "What to Expect" book for suggesting, instead of singing lullabies, that you play a recording of your favorites. I'm not saying they said "you can do this instead", they didn't even bring up the more obvious choice.
I agree that not even bringing up singing to your child is stupid, but there's something to playing your favorite rendition of the tune - I am certainly no Pete Seeger, and I'd much rather play my children his version of Abiyoyo than sing my own.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 10:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 11:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 11:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 10:51 pm (UTC)You are definitely not the "sit the baby in front of the TV" type babysitter... I try not to be, but it's a real effort.
There's a reason that we all assume everybody has lullabies
I don't really have that assumption, but that's probably because I never think about it.
And I'm sitting there, getting a shopping list from Jenn (which I promptly forgot to take with me), thinking about this - and getting seriously irritated at the "What to Expect" book for suggesting, instead of singing lullabies, that you play a recording of your favorites. I'm not saying they said "you can do this instead", they didn't even bring up the more obvious choice.
I agree that not even bringing up singing to your child is stupid, but there's something to playing your favorite rendition of the tune - I am certainly no Pete Seeger, and I'd much rather play my children his version of Abiyoyo than sing my own.
no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 10:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 11:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-12 11:07 pm (UTC)