Guest Blog by Boxcarkids’ oldest kid [with asides by mom]:
Kind of Singing?
For many years, on several days, I’ve woken up to the sound of my mother’s discordant singing. The songs she sings are definitely not those catchy pop songs you hear on the radio, but rather her own fusion of words pertaining to whatever situation she or anyone happens to be in at that moment. As a child, there were two main songs [there were many more than 2 but these were the most repetitive]: the morning song and the bedtime song.
The morning was along the lines of…
Good morning, good morning
Good morning to you
It’s time to wake up and do what we do
……. in the morning
I’d often be woken on school days with this and for some reason I don’t recall groaning at it or covering my head with my pillows. Which I’m sure will make my mom laugh when she reads this.
The bed time song:
It’s time, it’s time, it’s time
It’s time to rest your sleepy head
It’s time, it’s time, it’s time
It’s time for you to go to bed!
And with that, a few last minute goodnights and hugs and kisses, she’d turn out the light and the song process would start all over. Again and again.
Now days she doesn’t sing these two songs. Heck, we all barely remember them. But her “singing career” continues with songs of goats, kids need for instant gratification, chores and other miscellaneous stuff.
When she does sing, depending on what she’s singing, I can’t help but think, “oh my god” or “yup, that’s my mother….so help me god”. I usually go away with a smile put on cause, hey, my mom’s songs are often creative, rich in vocabulary (though none of the words ever seem to stick in my head), and always spontaneous.
I may not recollect groaning at my mother’s singing in my younger days, but I do recollect her singing on the road to wherever and us kids shouting at her to stop…well sorry, there wasn’t anywhere for us to go – it’s a car.
When we all sing, my sisters and I usually drown out mom. She has enough solos in this house and it’s pretty unanimous that American idol won’t even let her through the front doors. [I can’t carry a tune to save my life and was sufficiently embarrassed by my elementary school music teacher that I never sing in public!]
Might I add that while I’m ranting on about this, that I’m probably not the best singer as well. I’m not a ballad singer like Whitney Houston or Celine Dion. I’m a teen still going through puberty and my voice can be unstable. [All of my girls have beautiful voices and are much more musically inclined than I!]
As you might or might not have heard, one of our goats had recently had a kid. The Kid’s name is Dottie. Dottie wasn’t doing well in the beginning and since it was cold my mom dressed her in one of the dogs’ sweaters to keep her warm. Mom made a song about her-um-digestive effects on her appearance.
Here’s little Dottie
She’s a tiny goat-ie
In her warm coat-ie
But it’s getting kind of groady
Cuz she’s got diarrhea
You really ought a see ‘a
Mom explains to me that as a parent, when she was frustrated or angry, she thought it best to sing rather than scream, yell or nag. Now that she is going to be a teacher she threatens to sing to her students! My imagination now portrays mom singing in a class room and bunch of los pollos locos running around and running into tables and walls then getting back up and repeating the process. Oh my goodness. She thinks singing to her students is a great idea.
“When the students are messing around, I’ll make a little sound” – Mom.
Well, good luck lady I don’t know. I’m not often embarrassed by my mother. But if she sings to her students….
Mom advises me to know how to “wrap it up”, my writing that is.
“Quick mom, make up a rhyme!”
“Ha. Ha. Ha. Make up your own rhyme.”
Well thanks for the advice mom.
Oi, vey…that’s all I have to say
Time is slipping away
And all that may
Is cast away
You’d think my poetry would reflect my mother’s with big vocabulary and more creativity. Well I guess it doesn’t run in the family.
I want a DNA check!