Sebastian and I, we have many songs.
Since you were a baby, I’ve sung you songs – in my not so smooth singing voice.
To take a bath we sang ‘Itsty Bitsy Spider’ before, during, and after. It puzzles us that you ever hated the bath in those early days after your birth. Maybe it was the damp London air. Maybe the recline in your little tub was too much for your reflux.
To lull you to sleep when your tummy rumbled from constant reflux, I sat on my big lavender coloured birthing ball and slowly bounced you on my lap or against my chest. The dog next door barked. The strong, bright rays of the Cairo sun found their way into our cool air conditioned bedroom. I sang songs from your favourite CD, Elisabeth Mitchell. ‘You are my sunshine’. ‘Three little birds’. ‘Lady bug picnic’. This calmed you enough to get that milk out of your tummy and into a restful sleep.
To calm you in the car we stocked up on CDs. Elisabeth Mitchell. Billy Jonas. Sesame Street. Laura Viers. Road trips to Kentucky and Michigan and home again to Toronto.
To get your mind off an uncomfortable air bubble or full tummy after a meal, we have dance parties. We love dance parties. The Avett Brothers. Serena Ryder. And papa-daddy sneaks in some Aesop Rock when he can. I pick you up into my arms and twirl you around. You are laughing. Worries and pains have all disappeared. When I hold you close and see the complete happiness on your face, I am overcome with emotion. And so thankful to have you as my dancing partner. I want to cry tears of joy. Every time.
Linked up with Five Minute Friday.