My Real Life

You may remember that last week I posted about our troubles with Tiny and bedtime.

We’re working on it.

Tonight, as I rocked and sang to him, I actually started paying attention to the words of the songs I was singing and realized that his “lullaby” songs may be the problem.

The first one is a no-brainer.

“Rockabye Baby.”

A song about a baby in a tree and the branch breaks and the baby falls to the ground to his death.

Okay, it doesn’t specifically say that, but it’s what I always imagined.

“Close your eyes, sweetheart.  I’m going to sing you a little song about a baby whose Mommy makes him sleep in a tree…but not just any tree…a tree with weak branches on a windy, scary night.  Night-night, lovey.”

Nice.

One of Tiny’s most requested bedtime songs is “Clementine.”

You know the one…

In a cavern, In a canyon, 
Excavating for a mine, 
Dwelt a miner forty-niner, 
And his daughter Clementine.

Then, the rest of the song is about Clementine and how she died.

Oh my darling, Oh my darling, 
Oh my darling Clementine, 
You are lost and gone forever, 
Dreadful sorry Clementine.

Again, lovely.

“Time for bed, Tiny.  Tonight Mommy is going to sing to you about a Daddy who had a little girl who died because she got a splinter in her toe and she tripped and drowned.  Sweet dreams, pumpkin!”

He also loves me to sing “You Are My Sunshine,” which sounds like a perfectly acceptable little ditty until you really listen to the lyrics.

First verse, okay.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are grey
You never noted how much I love you
Please don’t take my sunshine away

Then we get to the second verse:

The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamt I held you in my arms
When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
So I hung my head, and I cried

Seriously?

“Snuggle up, schmoopy.  Listen to Mama’s song about someone dreaming about the one they love, but guess what?  It’s just a dream.  The one they love ain’t nowhere to be found.  That’s life, kiddo.  Them’s the breaks.  Nighty-night!”

Why am I singing all of these awful, sad songs to this kid?

Might as well sing “Ring Around the Rosy”, which is about the Bubonic Plague or “London Bridge” and give the kid tics every time we drive over a body of water.

Then, I sing these weird songs that I don’t think anyone else even knows because they were songs that my grandparents used to sing to me when I was a kid and we went on car trips.

The first is “Down by the Old Mill Stream.”

It was written in 1908.

Pretty sure it’s not going to be on Kidz Bop 21.

My darling I am dreaming of the days gone by,
When you and I were sweethearts beneath the summer sky;
Your hair has turned to silver, the gold has faded too;
But still I will remember, where I first met you.

The old mill wheel is silent and has fallen down,
The old oak tree has withered and lies there on the ground;
While you and I are sweethearts the same as days of yore;
Although we’ve been together, forty years and more.

Down by the old mill stream where I first met you,
With your eyes of blue, dressed in gingham too,
It was there I knew that you loved me true,
You were sixteen, my village queen, by the old mill stream.

Not a sad or scary song, but a song about growing old.

With the one you love, yes, but still, what two year old wants to think about gray hair and seeing the world around them get old and decrepit?

Finally, we round it out with “The Sidewalks of New York” which is another one I picked up from my grandparents.

I’m not 100% positive, but I am fairly certain this is a song about a hoochie mama named Mamie O’Rourke and a bunch of kids getting drunk.

Top notch material to sing to your toddler.

 

Down in front of Casey’s old brown wooden stoop,

On a summer’s evening we formed a merry group;

Boys and girls together we would sing and waltz

While Tony played the organ

On the sidewalks of New York. 

 

East side, west side, all around the town,     

The tots sang “ring-a-rosie,” “London Bridge is falling down.”     

Boys and girls together, me and Mamie O’Rourke     

Tripped the light fantastic

On the sidewalks of New York. 

 

That’s where Johnny Casey, little Jimmy Crowe

Jakey Krause, the baker, who always had the dough,

Pretty Nellie Shannon with a dude as light as cork

She first picked up the waltz step

On the sidewalks of New York. 

 

Things have changed since those times, some are up in “G”

Others they are wand’rers but they all feel just like me

They’d part with all they’ve got, could they once more walk

With their best girl and have a twirl

On the sidewalks of New York.

 

Sounds like the Bloods and the Crips of the 1890’s if you ask me.

So, I guess maybe it’s not that big of a surprise that the little guy is having a hard time getting to sleep.

Through his mother’s loving songs, he is being threatened and told stories about bad role models.

I said it on Facebook the other day and I’ll say it again…

I’m fairly sure my Mother of the Year Award will be arriving in the mail at any moment.