Thing 2

She’s No Simon Cowell

A few weeks ago, I put NikkiZ down in her crib for the night and she decided she was going to cry instead of go to sleep. I patted her back for a moment and she was still crying. So, for some reason, I started singing to her.

If you’ll recall – I have an awful voice and have been told so by people just in case I didn’t know this myself. I still love to sing and sang to LilZ a lot as a baby. Mostly Indigo Girls and Janis Joplin. (Janis Joplin, I’m sure, flopped in her grave every time she heard my rendition of “Me & Bobby Mcgee.”) However, I haven’t sang much to NikkiZ because I’ve gotten a bit reserved in my old age. I’m more aware of how bad my voice is and don’t want to subject anyone around me to the sounds of my singing.

But that night? I sang. And she IMMEDIATELY stopped crying. I mean – the second the first line, “Hush now baby don’t say a word…” came out of my mouth she quieted and after a few rounds of the song – she fell asleep. Sound asleep. My dangerously bad voice soothed her to sleep. It was a miracle, to say the least.

Since then, I’ve fallen back on this trick a few times. Namely in the car when I know she should fall asleep – but she’s fighting it. Everytime it works the same. LilZ was even witness to it on the way to Knoxville Friday and he is well aware of how amazing it was because he was listening to the same voice and can attest that it is anything BUT soothing. Yet somehow? It puts her to sleep.

This either proves the power a mother’s voice can have over her child and the inate reaction to the sound that nurtured their life for nine months. Or it demonstrates that my daughter is tone deaf.

I’m going for the latter.

Note from 2020: She still doesn’t mind me singing to her. <3

18 thoughts on “She’s No Simon Cowell”

  1. That’s pretty cute. I always thought I had a great voice, but my husband’s opinion of it is the opposite of mine. Of course he sings all the time and thinks his voice is pretty good. Mostly it makes me chuckle under my breath so he doesn’t stop and I can be humored by it for a little longer.

  2. I can not sing to save my life. I do, however, love to sing along with any and every Indigo Girls song much to the dismay of anyone within earshot.

    Also, you missed a third option: she falls asleep to no longer have to listen to the singing. Which is definitely what my kids would do if I tried to sing them to sleep. 🙂

  3. I love the power of singing, I am no good at it, but when I was in the ER with my then 6 month old, it completely calmed him down.

  4. I, too, was going to suggest the third option offered up by Elena. All good naturedly, of course, as I can’t carry a tune but I never let that stop me.

  5. When I would sing to my daughter my husband could not muffle his laughter, but both my kids loved my singing. I think it’s sweet.

  6. hahahaah so this morning my son was having a rare tempertantrum but man was it the mother of all tantrums. so i thought hey why not sing to him, Holy shit batman talk about escalating the tantrum to defcon five. I guess he no longer enjoys my singing.

  7. My youngest nephew (now 10 mos. old) had “a song.” As in, “He’s melting down, quick, play the song. PLAY THE SONG!” We didn’t have to sing it, but as long as it played on iTunes, or on the radio, or once, via headphones in an airport, he would IMMEDIATELY get quiet. As in, instantaneously. He’d go from red faced and gasping for air to semi-comatose stoner baby. The song: Flowing, by 311. No one in the family even likes 311. It was bizarre

  8. You’re totally the baby whisperer (singer). I have a friend whose three(!)-year-old told her, “Mommy, you sing pretty. Pretty ugly!” Are they supposed to be like that by 3?

Leave a Reply