Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Young love, dangerous cleanliness, and singing your emotions

The past couple of weeks were full of conversations I don't want to lose track of, so I'm going to split them up over a few days. Here's installment number one. Check out the Facebook page to see more conversations.
On the drive home from the gym: 
Me: What did you do in the kids' place today? 
Addison: There were boys, and I chased them. 
Me: Oh really? 
Addison: That's right. I'm a chaser. I chased those boys really fast. 
Me: Huh. What did you do with them once you caught them? 
Addison: I bopped them on the head. BOP! Like that. 
My wife feels like Little Bunny Foo Foo is having a bad influence on our daughter. She usually loves other kids. But my take? If she only chases boys in order to teach 'em who's boss, I'd probably be okay with that for the next 15 years or so.

My daughter just came running to me with a Q-tip. 
Addison: I will clean your ears, dad!  
Me: Since when do you like cleaning things? 
Addison: Since forever! I will clean really good! Like this! 
*makes emphatic jabbing motions with the Q-tip* 
It was a nice offer, but if I got my brains cleaned like that, I might start remembering all the things my wife's been asking me to do. Why rock the boat?

On the way home from a visit to the playground, we rocked out to The Little Mermaid soundtrack. If you're new here, my daughter likes it, just a little bit
Right before Ariel's first song, she's in a cavern looking at all her treasures (pretty similar to the junk (I mean treasure) that's filling up Addison's room, too). And Ariel says, 
Ariel: "Maybe he's right. Maybe there is something wrong with me. I just don't see how a world that makes such wonderful things could be bad." 
And cue the music: 
♫ "Look at this stuff, isn't it neat?" ♫ 
Addison looks at me in the rear view mirror, as though just realizing something, and says, "Why she start singing?" 
Me: Why do YOU think she starts singing? 
Addison (raising hands in exasperation): I don't know. Doesn't make sense. 
Me: Well, I guess that's just how some people work through their pain. They sing about it, Broadway-style. 
Addison: Oh. Okay. 
If I can work this just right, maybe I'll be able to train Addison to break out in song whenever she's mad about something. The ultimate parenting Win.


  1. Teaching children to sing their frustrations is a great parenting idea. I need to work that in, I have lots of opportunities every day. Gotta remember that.

    1. Also, there are so many great frustrated songs out there that one could use for a moment of emotion. I'm thinking selections from Alanis' You Oughta Know, or The Miserables' Do You Hear the People Sing, or maybe Pearl Jam's Even Flow, for something that needs lots of unintelligible passion.

  2. I actually snort-laughed at one point in this post. I like snort-laughing.

    Singing is a great idea. Sometimes we sing about things and our little boy yells "No! Talk about it!" Sometimes we talk about things and he yells "No! Sing about it!" He's a contrarian, just like his mother, who will tell you she isn't.

    1. snort laughing is good until you've got a cup of something up to your lips. Then I advise against it.

      And I totally get contrarians. I've got one of those. Your son sounds like a real kick. The next time my wife starts to rant about something, I'm gonna say, "No! Sing about it!"

  3. If you teach her to burst into song as a way of working through her feelings I will be asking you to let me watch because that would be awesome. As someone whose sister was obsessed with Ariel (we used to have sing offs during bath-time and then we would try to make our hair swirl underwater) it takes a while to go away. I think her wedding was the final end of her princess phase...

    1. My daughter doesn't have much hair to swirl, but I'm pretty sure the Ariel fixation is gonna be around awhile, like you say. That mermaid's got her hooks in deep with my kid.

  4. My favorite is: "you can't always get what you want..."