I Am A Lousy Singer
No kidding. I’m a famously lousy singer. Notorious.
Years ago, my sister and I were on a school bus trip to somewhere with a bus full of kids from our school, and I lost myself in the music on my walkman.
Out loud.
I even remember the song that was playing when the teacher, Mr. Isler, turned around in his seat and asked me to stop singing. It was In Lonesome Dove by Garth Brooks. I loved that song, right up until that moment.
And then I never listened to it again.
Okay, that’s not true, but I never let anyone else hear me sing: no man I ever not even my husband, my friends, my family, my cats. No one heard me sing.
Until my baby was born.
You know how women say that you lose all sense of modesty when you’ve given birth? That extended to my voice.
I sang to my baby morning, noon, and night. I sang to her when she was awake. I sang to her when she was asleep. I sang to when she was falling to sleep. I sang to her in private and in public. I sang to hear all the time.
Grace loved it. She loved my singing. She loved my attention.
Some days, nothing else would put her to sleep. I learned the words to all of the songs on her baby swing, and I sang along to the tinny music.
Nobody else seemed to mind my singing, and no one criticized me. It was the first time in my life that no one made fun of my singing.
It felt great to sing to my baby. My singing calmed her. It was a powerful tool, even if it was lousy singing.
As Grace got older, she didn’t need to me to sing to her as much. I slowly stopped.
But then, this past summer, I had a hard time convincing 2-year-old Grace to take a nap. It was no different from the first weeks of her life.
It got really bad. I couldn’t take Grace’s meanness and frustration on days that she needed a nap. She was not her usual, pleasant self.
So one day, I started singing. Skidamarink. Rock-a-bye baby. Hush little baby. You are my sunshine. All of our old favorites made a comeback.
Grace loves my singing more now than she did before. When she’s tired or cranky or feeling bad, she crawls up on my lap and says Sing me please!
It doesn’t matter where we are. I can’t resist.
Even if I am a lousy singer.
Happily submitted to Things I Love Thursday, Beautiful Life Friday, Finer Things Friday, and Hooked On Friday
That is so sweet! And you’re singing to one of the people who matter most anyways, so who cares what anyone else might think? Hope you have a wonderful weekend… I’m having a shopping gift card giveaway today, so if that’s something that interests you come on over and check it out!
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I’m with you…singing is not my strong suit, but my boys loved it too. The best part was when they would see another baby crying when we were out and start singing to the baby. It made my heart melt. Good for you for singing anyway!
Amy Lynne´s last blog ..Boys Having Fun
Ha! We are sisters in vocal disharmony. I cannot, as they used to say back in West Virginia, carry a tune in a bucket. But that never stopped me with the guys!
Our song lists are exactly the same, too, except I added “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” – yes, it CAN be a lullaby!
And to this day – my oldest is 6 now – sometimes those old songs are the only thing that works. When Big Guy broke his wrist this summer and was fighting the anesthesia to stay awake – even he couldn’t out stubborn those drugs – the only thing that would calm him was my wretch, awful, tone-deaf singing. So maybe we’re not so bad after all!
9to5to9´s last blog ..Sure, it has a great beat. But can he spell ‘orange’
That’s beautiful-I envy you because you can do that!
I am like you before you had a baby-I think I’m a lousy singer and I haven’t even given anyone a chance to tell me whether they agree or disagree.
I don’t sing. Period. Lol
I always wish I could though.
Kayla´s last blog ..2 Sweet Things{Review and Giveaway}
Representing the boys: My mom sang to me. It embarrassed me a little as I got older. But I’ve remembered it every day of my life, even more vividly since she passed.
What a sweet post! I, too, sing more now with my children than ever before. They hear the heart in our mom voice.
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