My dream as a little girl was to become the next Céline Dion, never mind the fact that I can’t carry a tune to save anyone’s life. I sang everywhere – taking a shower, driving […]
My budding musician playing his tambourine and maraca!
My dream as a little girl was to become the next Céline Dion, never mind the fact that I can’t carry a tune to save anyone’s life. I sang everywhere – taking a shower, driving in the car, skiing down mountains… you get the idea. I happened to marry a man who also enjoys singing; fortunately, he knows how to sing in something called a “key” (something I’ve never heard of). When we’re not performing professional artists’ hits around the house, we frequently make up our own melodies and lyrics, or just steal other melodies and add our words.
So the North family was musical before Rowan joined us. Perhaps unsurprisingly, we’ve only gotten more musical since baby was born. Everything inspires songs for our son, from changing his diaper in the morning (“Clean Diaper”) to getting him ready for bath time at night (“Bath Time for RoRo”). More surprising is how much he loves our tunes. The pure delight that comes over his face when he hears “Happy Baby” makes me
happy. Although he’s probably laughing at how poorly I sing, I don’t care. And while most other aspects of parenting have proponents and detractors, singing to your baby has been encouraged by everything I’ve come across.
Am I winning Grammys and traveling the world to perform for legions of fans? Not in the slightest. But for this mama, performing for this audience of one is more rewarding than having my own coliseum in Las Vegas.