Last night I knew that if I listened to Hey Lolly Lolly or Ratón Vaquero in the car one more time, my children's lives were in danger. I was, to turn a poetic phrase, losing my shit. Too many tantrums, too little sleep, and a complete dearth of alone time.
Shawn Joaquin, we're going to listen to the radio now. We need mama music.
WHY? WHY? I want MY MUSIC. I don't LIKE mama music. WHY?
Because mama is tired and would like just a few minutes of what mama would like.
I flipped on KFOG to hear Alanis Morrisette singing. A full minute of blessed silence from the backseat followed.
Mama, what's this song called?
You Outta Know.
NO. What's THIS SONG CALLED?
It's called You Outta Know.
NO!
TELL ME THE NAME OF THE SONG!
TELL ME NOW!
I DO!
NOT!
KNOW!
Screw it. Let's put on some B-I-N-G-O and sing until my ears bleed. As I have often said: I'm a mom. It's what we do.
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1 comment:
iPODS.
Those are the life savers for me. I got both kids iPods. They are silent. They disappear into their rooms to listen to music. Quiet.
In the car they are great. Until they start singing at the top of their lungs.
It was much easier handling the kids when I was young, but I am in my mid-40s, and it isn't so easy... but technology certainly helps.
Bill
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