Sing a Little Song

Bambam has started singing. This is a new skill for him. It started within the past year with the Happy Birthday song. Which makes total sense because birthdays are one of his most favorite things. Doesn't matter whose it is, he just loves candles and cake and presents...and now singing Happy Birthday. Which he sings to someone (be it alive or stuffed, human or animal) at least once a day. It is awesome.

Within the past couple of months, his song repertoire has been expanding. He first added Old MacDonald and Baba Black sheep (yes, its a clear animal theme). But most recently he's added Frosty the Snowman and Santa Clause is Coming to Town. His versions are not exact replicas of the original, but they are certainly close enough for anyone to understand what he is singing. Seriously love it!

The only little issue with all this singing is that he wants me to sing with him. I. Can. Not. Sing. As in, I sound like a sick cow. Lets just say that my talents lie elsewhere. Don't get me wrong, I love to sing. When in the car alone I sing at the top of my lungs along with the radio. And I have a great time doing it. But any singing in public ended for me in Junior High School. (I know I'm dating myself, they call it middle school now.) I remember it clearly. The first time we were required to "try out" for choir. I didn't make it. Yes, lots of teenage girl drama followed. But eventually I came to grips with the fact that my singing was limited to in the shower or in the car alone. 

And then along came Bambam. My boy who had no words until he was over 3. Who works so hard on any and all verbal communication. Who I thought would never sing a single song. (Yes, I've learned my lesson about the word "never". Over and over and over again.) And when that sweet, angelic face looks at me and says "wanna sing too?" Well, there is nothing else to do but sing right along with him. No matter where we are. 

So, if you are in the grocery store, or at the park, or just walking down the street and you hear something that sounds a little like a dieing cow trying to sing Frosty the Snowman, well, that's probably me. Just one blessed mama enjoying a festive song with her beautiful boy.