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.

The food is laid upon the table.


The first course served.


But the guests have yet to arrive.

Perhaps they’re waiting for dessert.