I can't be the only mama who breaks into Pearl Jam every time she sees the Evenflo bottles.
Ha! Take that, minivan soccer mama creeping up inside! I AM a ROCKSTAR mama! I sing Pearl Jam and cool songs to my baby! Folk music! Jazz! Classic rock! No Baby Einstein midi crap in this house, no matter how good their marketing!
(Heh. Sleep deprivation, anyone?)
The last couple of days have been a blur of sleep and not enough sleep, pumping, feeding, changing diapers, smothering kisses, tagteaming nighttime feedings, calming (or trying to) tears, counting up ounces eaten, doing laundry, washing bottles, sterilizing everything, watching him find his reflection in the mirror, pediatrician visits (two since we came home, cardiologist visit today), waiting for his smile to let us know he's falling asleep, trying to find the perfect way to rest my hand on his chest to make sure he's breathing without waking him up, breaking into randomly created songs about poop and how much we love him (though not always in the same song), making up new nicknames like Doodlemuffin and Muffinhead (though he's a Doodle through and through), creating an entire new vocabulary (nummienolas = food, noonie = pacifier), worrying and crying about what the future holds - and then kicking myself in the arse and reminding myself to take in the moment as he is right now (because he's just freaking AWESOME in every possible way), and generally just loving the crap out of him.
(Of course, if I had said that out loud, I'd immediately cover his ears as I said the word "crap" - after all, I used to give my students a hard time if they cursed in front of my pregnant belly, claiming that I would hunt them down if my baby's first word was any of the words they were spewing. Nevermind that mama's the Queen Trucker Mouth when someone cuts her off in traffic. Whatever.)
Anyway, I hear little Doodle stirrings - sounds like time for breakfast. Good thing mama managed to scarf hers down (AND pump AND get his meds ready AND pack for the trip to the doctor AND make up some bottles) all while he was snoozing. Go mama with your bad, sleep-deprived, Pearl-Jam-singin' self!
I heard an interview with one of the Marsalis boys recently - I can't remember which one now (whichever one plays the sax)... Anyway, someone called in and was wondering about how to get kids interested in music. He was a new parent and didn't want to force piano lessons or the like and make the kid resent good music.
Marsalis said that what he and his wife did when they had their children was to get rid of the television and just play music all the time - none of that "Baby Einstein crap" as you mentioned. He would just play jazz and classical.
His daughter never got into playing an instrument but she became obsessed with the Nutcracker suite for about six months. She then decided that she was tired of it and wouldn't listen to it anymore.
Since she wasn't interested in playing an instrument and she didn't talk about music much, he wasn't sure if she was really "getting it"...
Until one day he was driving in the car and the classical station was on... his daughter was in the back and a piece came on - he said which one, but I forget now. He had no idea what it was, but they his six-year-old pipes up from the back, "Daddy, this sounds really similar to part x of the Nutcracker suite".
He hadn't realized it, but it was the same key and a similar structure to some part of the Tchaikovsky recording - but his daughter picked up on it right away.
I don't know... just rambling I guess.
Between you and Jay, I have no doubt that Samson will be exposed to a wealth of good art.
Anyway, he looks great and we're happy for you guys. Don't worry about all the unimportant stuff - that stuff will always be around.
Talk to you soon
Posted by: Curt at March 27, 2006 03:27 PM