It’s been long been my philosophy that, as much as I love providing information for youse folk, a primary point of this blog is as a resource for myself. Things I think I’ll remember “forever” fade into oblivion.
With that in mind, I’m going to note the songs I sing to my daughter. Often, it’s the case that I’ll take an existing song and put new lyrics to it. If I do that, though, it has to be a song that she does not know. Once, I tried singing something to the “Wonder Pets” theme: “Lydia, Lydia, my favorite girl…” I was scolded, and told “THAT’S not how it goes.”
So, I take songs obscure to her. One of the first was this ditty:
“I love Lydia
I love Lydia,
‘Cause she is my daughter
She is my daughter.”
This is to the tune of I Eat Cannibals by TOTAL Coelo. I didn’t even KNOW what the tune was at first, since I don’t even own it, I don’t think.
Another song I adapted Turn Down Day by The Cyrkle, a group best known for covering Paul Simon’s Red Rubber Ball. The words vary, but I usually start with the chorus, usually trying to prod the child out of bed:
It’s a day-care day
And it’s time to get some clothes
It’s a day-care day
Let’s get ready.
These tend to be the morning songs.
There are a slew of tuness to choose from when I sing to her at bedtime. Many are standard children’s songs, though she likes a variation on Twinkle, Twinkle about traffic lights which she taught me. “Sing A Song of Sixpence” is altered from “pecked off her nose” to “[kiss sound] kissed her nose”, at her instance, NOT me being overprotective.
The Car Song I learned from my father and I sing to her: “Mommy, won’t you take me for a ride in the car.” Be Kind to Your Parents was from from a record my sister Leslie and I had on red vinyl when we were kids; we sang it at my 50th birthday party.
But always, these are the last two. When she’s really tired, these are the ONLY two: A, You’re Adorable, which my mother sang to me – indeed the ONLY song I remember my mother ever singing to me, and for which I changed many of the lyrics, starting with J (“you’re so jolly”) because I couldn’t remember the original; and Good Night, the song from the Beatles’ white album, during which I turn on her night light, then slowly dim the overhead light.
Tomorrow, my take on yesterday’s news.