Rock Star

Last night we went to a rock concert. I kept telling M it was Kid Rock, but what I meant was KidRockers.

As usual, the music (while really fun!) was waaaaaay too loud, so Monkey requested that we retreat to the arts & crafts table (there were tables set up elsewhere, as the concert was part of the very child-friendly Winters Eve Festival in Lincoln Square last night).

But, before we left the concert, one of Monkey's friends made sure she got a necklace that sported a guitar pendant that lit up when pressed. Now, while most people might look at the necklace and be grateful the convulsion-inducing lights turn off eventually, Monkey and her friends thought it was THE BOMB.

In fact, as Luke handed Monkey her necklace he said "now you're a rock star, too!" as he swiveled his hips ala Elvis the Pelvis.

Monkey slept with the necklace, and wore it to school today. Cuz that's how she rolls. She's a rock star, y'all.

There's a bathroom on the right*

Monkey has been introduced to The Sound of Music, and she's in love.

"Is is a school night?" is the introductory question (since no TV or movies is allowed on a school night). As soon as she verifies that it isn't, she will ask to watch the "singing movie."

And, as we walk through the streets of the city on our commute to and from school, more often than not we're belting out "Doe a Deer" at the top of our lungs (to the amusement of most, the annoyance of some....).

The part that always makes me laugh is her mangled lyrics:

"Tea, a drink with jam and bread" has become "tea, a lick of garlic bread." It cracks me up every single time!

*sorry Creedence Clearwater Revival, but everyone gets your lyrics wrong!

out of the mouth of babes

This past Saturday night we drove out to Westchester to a birthday party. The birthday boy, as opposed to our more normal routine, was not an insane toddler, but rather M's boss. He has a lovely home, with a really nice wife, three kids, and an adorable little floppet of a puppy. The party was fun. The food (an assortment of Turkish items) was really good, there was plenty of wine and soda to go around, and there was even live music.

The live music was my favorite part. It was two guys with acoustic guitars, and they were awesome! I got to rock out to some Supertramp with Jellybean. She totally dug it, and was fascinated by the two musicians playing their guitars. If I could have put a lighter in her hand she would have been all over it. "Give a Little Bit" is officially her favorite song now. Come on now, rock out with me.... I think it cracked the musicians up that I was singing along with them...but come on, it was Supertramp!

Monkey could have cared less about the music, she got obsessed *cough sputter cough* OBSESSED I TELL YOU with.....a nasty piece of work called "My Pretty Pony." Ah, gawd, I think I just threw up in my mouth.

The funniest moment of the entire party came when we were getting into the car to drive home. I commented on the house, saying I liked it, and Monkey piped up with "Yeah, I want one!".....I about fell over laughing. M glowered and told Monkey to "stop egging your mother on...". It was hilarious.

Ok, I have two babes asleep right now. I need to go listen to some more Supertramp before they wake up! Happy Monday all.....

Music

Monkey has deemed the "Easy Listening" station on our cable as the "baby music" channel and will often request it. I think it is hilarious that she thinks babies like musak.

Actually, the bitter truth is that she won't let us listen to anything else if Jellybean is around. And, well, since Jellybean can't even roll over yet, much less leave the apartment....yeah, we listen to it A LOT.

So now, g*d help me, I find myself humming along to such classics as originally performed by Enya, Journey, and the like....only no words, and UGH do they stick in my head.

Music to my ears

Tonight it is M's turn to read to Monkey and put her to bed. We trade off, so we both get to read books to her, snuggle with her on the glider, and revel in her presence.

Tonight, Monkey chose a book full of songs. So M sang.

It is music to my ears. They are so happy.

And I couldn't love them more.

Everybody's a Critic

One of Monkey's Christmas presents from Grandma L was a book of songs and an accompanying cd (with recorded versions of what the songs are supposed to sound like, as opposed to my warbling renditions).

While the cd has been used a few times, the book is in very heavy circulation. Most nights, Monkey will find the book and present it to me, asking me to sing to her.

So I sing.

She'll flip open the book to a page, and I'll start singing whatever song is there (with some exceptions of truly unsingable songs, which I ignore). Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Old McDonald, Bingo, Sleep Baby Sleep, Hickory Dickory Dock, It's raining, The Itsy Bitsy Spider, and so on. All the classics are there.

The only problem? Half the time, I'll be only a few refrains into the song and Monkey will blurt out "No, no, noooo..." and change the page.

Everybody's a critic.