When I was a little girl my mother would put me to bed every night. She would get me all situated with the covers just so and my nightgown just right and then she’d sing to me, “You Are My Sunshine”. It’s interesting that as a child I have no memory of that song ever growing old. I looked forward to her singing it to me each and every night.
When I had my children and they were very little I could sing to them anything I wanted because they were too small to have an opinion. Sometimes I’d sing and sometimes I’d just tuck them in and walk out, glad that they fell asleep so quickly. But I did try to sing to them some, and one of the songs I would sing would be You Are My Sunshine.
Interestingly enough, my daughter wanted to have nothing to do with the song. It could have been my lack of ability to sing, but for some reason that particular song she would tell me to stop, that she didn’t want to hear that song.
Just this week though she’s been asking Alexa to play the song and she’s been singing along. I don’t know where she heard it from, but she likes the song now and even likes it when I sing it. Maybe Mimi can sing it to her one night when she’s watching the children while we’re out. My daughter knows Mimi sang the song to me when I was little. I bet my daughter would really like to hear Mimi sing it.
The Big Boy Update: Still gathering information on the medication for ADHD for my son, but as of right now, we have a medication that’s working while he’s at school but when he gets home and it’s worn off, he has a lot of trouble staying regulated. He’s crazy bad disregulated. His teacher is happy with the results. To give you an idea of how big a change it is: my son told me tonight his favorite thing is school—because he’s, "learning some really interesting stuff right now”.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter asked me if we could make cinnamon rolls for breakfast one morning. I told her I’d get some at the store (the kind in the pop-out cardboard tube) and we could make them this weekend.
No comments:
Post a Comment