The Wiggles May Jiggle, But Janis Joplin Rocks
There is nothing more painful than Old MacDonald , The Wheels On The Bus and all the other insipid music that bombards a mommy's ears every single day of our life…until, of course, The Wiggles are replaced with some, as my father always put it, God awful noise that doesn't even classify as music. Between singing farm animals, and rhyming puppets, Muppets and Paleolithic pains in the behind, it's a wonder that more mommies don't attempt a triple pike with a twist into a bathtub of white lightning. I can freely admit that after an hour in the car listening to the xylophone toting freak show du jour, I have considered driving directly into a telephone pole.
I was so excited, I thought I had a breakthrough; while running errands last week, I had reached my breaking point of singing toothbrushes and spit cups and gleefully slid one of my c.d.s into the radio, The Doobie Brothers, Sloan exclaimed “Mommy, I love this music.” Oh happy, happy day. China Grove grooved on, I drove happily down the street and Sloan fell asleep; being raised a preacher's kid, I never really subscribed to the theory of nirvana, on that day, I was there – and it was beautiful.
From day one my mom has questioned my judgment as a mother; every night when I rock Sloan (we are going to ignore that the child is two and a half and still getting rocked) I sing Me and Bobby McGee – Sloan can now sing every word by heart and even mastered the guttural groans that made Janis Joplin great. While I exclaim in shouts of acclamation, “That's my girl” my mother thinks the choice of a song about a broken-hearted hitchhiker falls woefully short of what Dr. Spock had envisioned.
I was almost immediately shaken free of my melodic superiority complex, however, when I tried to play The Eagles in the car, two days later, and Sloan complained. It seems she was craving “Elmo & The Fuzzettes Sing Your Favorite World War II Ditties” and “The Boogie Woogie Booger Band's Tribute to Puppets Past”. I even tried to trick Sloan with a copy of The Yellow Submarine, she didn't bite. I guess nirvana is fleeting.
So what did I learn? First of all, a mom such as me has to be pretty careful picking out kids' music: pick out something that won't make you want to blow your brains out with the flare gun from your trunk; and by the way there is some pretty wacky kids music out there, for example, Roseanne Barr's latest contribution “ Rockin' With Roseanne ”. The other thing I learned was that any escape from kiddie “Sing Sing” is merely temporary. You may have thought you were free, but the piano playing hounds will sniff you out, track you down and condemn you to a lifetime of singing sea cucumbers and only slightly harmonious harp seals.
Boise City News