Hush little baby, don’t you cry.

Mama’s going to show you the bright blue sky, and if that bright blue sky don’t shine, Mama’s going to show you bees in a line, but if those little bees don’t buzz…

I have spent more of my life these past near ten months singing than I believe I have the previous ten years. Sure, I would sing along to old favorites on Pandora in the car, or while cleaning the kitchen, but I realized early on that there wasn’t much that could soothe our little person quite like a song. So boy did I sing a lot those first six months. I made up songs about changing diapers, or walking up stairs. I turned our entire morning routine this morning into a song about making coffee and tea and putting things in the pantry. My rhyming skills wax and wane depending upon the hour (3am is not a good time for rhymes) but I’ve managed to find songs that she loves that I don’t tire of by changing the words as it suits me. The little ant sometimes stops to take a pee, for example. And even at this young age, I didn’t want to associate buying things or gifts as soothing acts, so “Hush little baby” became about seeing things, doing things, and learning things.

But the bees aren’t buzzing.
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The food is laid upon the table.

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The first course served.

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But the guests have yet to arrive.

Perhaps they’re waiting for dessert.

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