Gametes In Love

My mother has this great story of me, when I was but a wee one. At nap time she used to sing to me, until the day I stretched out my little toddler hand, put it over her mouth and said “Muh-ki!”. The Bulgarian word for “Shut-up!” is “Mlukni!”, so I was close enough.

My mom hasn’t sang to me since.

I think, just now, G might have done the equivalent to me. Each night I put him down, we sit on the glider, I throw his Lovie Friends over my shoulder, and hold him chest to chest. He puts his hand on my shoulder, buried in the softness of his lovies, and I sing him a song… sometimes twice if it’s a short one.
Well, tonight, as I started the singing portion of our program, G looked up, took one of his lovies, crunched it up and put it over my mouth as if trying to shove it in the whole in my face. I kind of shook it off thinking he was playing and went on, only for him to do it a second time. Should I be taking a hint kid?

My singing ability isn’t anything to be proud of. Quite the opposite, really. While I have a good sense of rhytm, singing is by far my worst performance skill. I joke around that the best way to clear a room is to invite me to sing. Yes, I jest, but it’s true. I was curious at what age G would mock me for this. I was thinking at least 2 years. It appears we’ve made it to 17 months.

I’ve got bad news for you kid, though! I ain’t stopping. HAHA!

Have you ever listened to the lyrics of children’s songs? No, I mean REALLY listened to them? There are many that are really fun and cute, and then there are some that make you want to go “Hmn!”

Let’s take this one for example: “There’s a hole in the bucket”

There’s a hole in the bucket,
Dear Liza, dear Liza
There’s a hole in the bucket,
Dear Liza, there’s a hole.

Then fix it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
Then fix it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, fix it.

With what shall I fix it,
Dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I fix it,
Dear Liza, with what?

With a straw, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
With a straw, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, with a straw.

But the straw is too long,
Dear Liza, dear Liza
But the straw is too long,
Dear Liza, too long

Then cut it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
Then cut it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, cut it.

With what shall I cut it,
Dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I cut it,
Dear Liza, with what?

With an axe, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
With an axe, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, an axe.

The axe is too dull,
Dear Liza, dear Liza
The axe is too dull,
Dear Liza, too dull

Then sharpen it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
Then sharpen it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, sharpen it.

With what shall I sharpen it,
Dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I sharpen it,
Dear Liza, with what?

With a stone, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
With a stone, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, a stone.

The stone is too dry,
Dear Liza, dear Liza
The stone is too dry,
Dear Liza, too dry

Then wet it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
Then wet it, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, wet it.

With what shall I wet it,
Dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I wet it,
Dear Liza, with what?

With water, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
With water, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, with water.

How shall I get it,
Dear Liza, dear Liza,
How shall I get it,
Dear Liza, how shall I?

In the bucket, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
In the bucket, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, in the bucket.

There’s a hole in the bucket,
Dear Liza, dear Liza
There’s a hole in the bucket,
Dear Liza, there’s a hole.

You know what I wanted to do after hearing this? Add another couplet. It goes something like this:

You’re an idiot, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, dear Henry
You’re an idiot, dear Henry,
Dear Henry, an idiot.

I mean, seriously. Two things strike me about this little ditty: 1) Henry is lazy as all hell; 2) He ain’t all that bright. Obviously he doesn’t want to fix the darn thing, so just fess up an move on. And that Liza is obviously a very patient woman, because if I had to deal with the bum that is Henry he’s be wearing the bucket by the end of that conversation.

Next up, “Five Little Monkeys”. I had the privilege of getting this stuck in my head yesterday.

Five little monkeys jumping on the bed
One fell off and bumped his head
So Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
No more monkeys jumping on the bed!

Four little monkeys jumping on the bed
One fell off and bumped his head
So Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
No more monkeys jumping on the bed!

Three little monkeys jumping on the bed
One fell off and bumped his head
So Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
No more monkeys jumping on the bed!

Two little monkeys jumping on the bed
One fell off and bumped his head
So Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
No more monkeys jumping on the bed!

One little monkey jumping on the bed
He fell off and bumped his head
So Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
No more monkeys jumping on the bed!

No little monkeys jumping on the bed
None fell off and bumped his head
So Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
Put those monkeys back in bed!

While I really do love this song, you gotta wonder: when does CPS get called in on the mom? All 5 of her kids have concussions from the same activity and the doctor told her 5 times to not let them do that. Following the rules of our society,verses 3-6 would dissapear and the last verse would end-up changed to:

No little monkeys jumping on the bed
CPS came and took them instead
Momma called the doctor and the doctor said
I told ya’ not to let them bounce on the bed!

I think I need to release my own CD. What do you think?

There’s a kid’s TV show on Sprout that S found the other day while going through our on-demand channels: the Pajanimals. It’s a Jim Henson Muppet production. It’s cute! I take it back… it’s saccharine.

Each episode is 4 minutes long, and all it is is a single song per episode. AND NOW I HAVE ONE STUCK IN MY HEAD!!!

That’s right: all morning long I’m singing to myself “I love to hug my lovie! My night-time lovey dovey…”

So I’m going to share the joy (HA!). Now you too can share in the lovey dovey pain I’m in!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fmYO5V4WDjA]

(P.S. forgive the video quality — it’s the only clip I was able to find)

I think I’ve mentioned by now that “The Wheels On The Bus” is G’s favorite song. Hearing it makes him smile, and in desperate times stop crying. Occasionally the verses of the song are not long enough to get him to calm down (yep, 8’s not enough even when repeated), so S and I have started adding our own. The bus now carries not only human passengers, but animal life of all kind.

This evening, the bus was shuttling donkeys, cows, frogs, dogs, cats and sheep. Yep, we either went on a ride on Noah’s Arc, or a bus in some rural country.

Much to the horror of anyone who is not deaf, I’ve been singing to G a bunch. I’ve forgone any actual lyrics to songs and have started making up my own. Here for example is the diaper song G’s been subjected to over the last two days.

Note: not all words may be found in the Merriam Webster dictionary

[to the Adams family theme song]

They’re wet or they are mucky,
And changing can be sucky!
They’re occasionally yucky,
The diapers on the Griff!

The Kissaluvs are purdy,
But not when they are dirty.
Yet I’m sure glad they’re sturdy,
The diapers on the Griff!

When G hears this he smiles and laughs. Most probably because when I sing I look like a fool (and probably sound like one too). Either way… until he’s old enough to tell me to stay quiet he’ll be subjected to more of the above.