I Can't Sing

I can't sing. Not only can't I sing, I don't even have a sense of rhythm. They say children like the sound of their mothers' voices regardless, so I always sang to my children.

Each had a few special songs. When Colin was tiny, I would croon "Hush Little Baby" over and over, and I sang a version of B-I-N-G-O except with the letters of his name. I sang "Mama's Little Baby Loves Shortening Bread" to Nate during the many late nights we spent together, as well as "Skin-a-marink-a-do"

Lydia seems to love music more than the boys ever did, and she loves to sing and dance in a much more intense way than the boys. She forces me to stretch the most in my musical abilities, though, because she insists I make up songs on the fly. She'll say "Will you sing to me?" and when I say "yes," she'll say "Ok. Sing a song about pink cupcakes." So, I make up a song about pink cupcakes. And purple cows. And yellow cake. And flying in the sky. She never runs out of song ideas, and always seems pleased with the songs I create.

I can't refuse to sing to my young daughter, but I confess I'm glad nobody else hears me sing!