Don’t Sing, Just Wipe

If you ask a room of ten people what is the one thing they wish they could do well that they can’t, nine of them will say sing. The tenth person is William Hung.

I am in that group of nine. I have no illusions about my singing abilities. I have always wished I could sing well, but I know I can’t and I’m a little sensitive about it. And after you have a kid, there is a lot of pressure to sing and there is even this assumption that your kid will like it. Not so.

Even though I can’t sing worth a flip, I can compose a song on the spot — another one of my many non-income producing talents. And if you have a baby in the house, you already know that spontaneous lyrical composition is a parenting prerequisite and that they won’t even let you bring a baby home from the hospital if you can’t think of something that rhymes with poop.

So the other day, I was sitting on the floor bent over Sean changing his diaper and I started singing the “Changing The Diaper” song that I wrote that goes something like this:

Bottoms up, bottoms up,
Bottoms down, bottoms down,
You’ve got the cutest bottom in town!

After I sang the first line, he reached up and put his hand over my mouth and said, “Okay, but Just. Don’t. Sing.”

So I finished changing the diaper in smoldering silence. The nerve. He is insulting ME as I’m wiping HIS butt. Before I could make my knees work again to stand up, he grabbed my head and pulled me down to him and kissed me squarely on the forehead, punctuated with a big “MWAH!”

If my life were a broadway musical, I would have burst into song at that very moment. That is, if I could sing.

33 thoughts on “Don’t Sing, Just Wipe

  1. Aren’t kids honest? One time I was giving my kiddo a bath and he says “mom you have a big butt.” when he realized he had insulted me he said this disclaimer; “Your butt isn’t as big as some of the other moms though.” Isn’t that good to know?


  2. This made me remember our nappy-changing song, now fallen into disuse now the youngest is three.
    To the tune of Frere Jacques:

    Pooey nappies, pooey nappies,
    What a smell, what a smell,
    Now I’m going to change it
    Now I’m going to change it
    That’s better, that’s better.

    No singing ability required as long as it’s not aired in public!


  3. I am glad he gave you a good kiss to make his honesty easier to take. LOL

    I have to admit, I remember doing something similiar to my own Mom. I love her dearly but she couldn’t stay on key if you nailed her there. I still remember how much my childhood dog loved to howl along. Made me feel better that she had at least ONE musical fan šŸ˜‰


  4. Sing your heart out. Laylee frequently asks me to “please go upstairs and put on some makeup.” Ha. Not gonna happen on a Friday morning when I’m still in my bathroom and haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Besides, I know I’m fabulous without it.


  5. This was so cute. I’m not a virtuoso (sp?) but I am a step up from my hubby in the singing dept. And like you, I have been known to make up lots of little ditties. Some are actually applauded my girls. My oldest has always been more approving of my songs, though. Many a time, my youngest, as a toddler, told me to please stop singing.
    Nothing quite like that feeling, is there?

    Thanks for making me giggle, as usual. šŸ™‚


  6. Too adorable! I sing as much as I can to my daughter while she still can’t talk. But, its already getting bad, she learned how to shake her head “no”. My days are numbered, so I know how you feel. You’re son is too sweet, those kisses are worth a thousand wipes!


  7. Only two and already a typical male! You can wait on me, but on my terms! lol Better tell Sean that you are going to sing and sing loudly when you are changing poopy diapers (if you are singing, you are breathing through your mouth) but, if he goes poopy on the potty — you will stop singing. The kiss on the forehead is the touch of a master!


  8. I found your blog recently and really enjoy it. This post made me laugh out loud. I’m glad to know I’m not the only mommy that makes up songs and can’t really sing.


  9. I’m glad you’re back! I missed you the last couple of days. I loved the line “another one of my many non-income producing talents”! Thanks for a great blog.


  10. You are cracking me up!!! I LOVE that potty song! Your son also cracks me up. What a critic!!!! I am also one of those 9 people.
    My son also has this thing that he does… when he thinks I have done something good or need cheering up he says he is going to give me a “wet one” … meaning a juicy lip kiss. I have NO idea where he learned that one but I really do not enjoy them. He things they are cure all kisses.


  11. I live for the “MWAH!” moments.

    I have always liked to chime in on the 2-year-old’s little banter songs, but I’m not even allowed to do that anymore: he starts a little wordless ditty and if I dare to join in, he yells, “No sing MYYYY song!”


  12. I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, even my husband laughs when I sing. But, especially when the kids were younger, I made up lots of little ditties…for the bath, for the car etc. My mom-in-law sings worse than I do. Her daughter once said, as she was being rocked and sung to, and as she patted her mommy on the lips, “Just rock, don’t sing.”


  13. Too funny. I love the shameless, matter-of-fact manner little kids have about you tending to their most intimate/gross bodily needs. You have to appreciate the pure honesty, though, don’t you? You just don’t find it anywhere else! My toddler screams, “NO SINGING!!!!” at the top of her lungs if I sing, hum or even whistle. (Unless it’s one of her few favorite songs. Then she begs for endless repeats.)
    If somehow, some way all of those little ditties we moms come up with in the privacy of our own homes were to become public– maybe a “The Best of…” compilation album!– there would be a lot of head-shaking, uproarious laughter and red faces all across this land, no? Of all the verses I have invented over the course of a decade in mommydom, the one my kids have really latched onto? The “wash your body” song, properly sung as I wash each body part, to the tune of “Clementine.” What verse do they choose to belt out IN PUBLIC? “Oh, wash your bottom, wash your bottom, wash your BOT-tom, little boy…”


  14. I love it. I sing and my daughter and son sing solo’s. I am so thankful to have that talent. It started when my daughter was in second grade and was soooo bored with her spelling words. We put all the words to songs and so she would sing the song in her head at test time and would ace the tests everytime. Everyone of her words for that week were in a song. It was fun and she still talks about it today. Iam in my forties as well and she just turned 21.


  15. That is so funny. My Girlie likes to tell me that I am ruining the song when I sing with the radio in the car. What is it with these kids? When they sing (or poop, or draw, etc.), they act like the Earth’s rotation stopped for just a moment to celebrate their talents.


  16. Just for the record: Even if you CAN sing, by the age of 10, your child will beg you not to sing or not to sing so loudly. Ahhh, poor girl… Doesn’t she realize that the comment will just make me sing all the more or just a wee bit louder? I love seeing the blush turn deeper in her face.

    Yes, she is slowly learning that life is not all about her desires coming to fruition or shutting her mother up. You’ve got to work with whatever teachable moments come your way, I say.


  17. “He is insulting ME as I’m wiping HIS butt” made me laugh out loud! My favorite Tell-It-Like-It-Is Phrase came from my nephew to my SIL regarding “morning breathe”. “Mom, everytime you open your mouth, this room gets a little smellier”. He was 3.

    Keep singing. And wiping.


  18. My boys yell at me when I sing, too. The NERVE! So to make ’em happy, I bust out in my best Opera voice at the top of my lungs. It goes over really well with them. ;o)


  19. Yeah, we’re working on this one: Bub emits the ear-piercing shriek and I translate: “Mama no sing?” and he says “Okay!”

    But lately I’ve been feeling that the inmates are running the asylum, so hubby and I have decided to rebel. Sometimes Bub will give the “no sing” – and WE KEEP ON SINGING ANYWAY, feeling like teenagers who just snuck out the bedroom window to drink beer at the bush party.


  20. I get the “no sing mama” too. But I also get the “find me a song mama” when we’re in the car and let me tell you nothing beats belting out “We Got The Beat” by the Go Gos with your 3YO.

    On the butt wipeing thing; mine tells me she poops her pants “so you can clean it up mama”. So nice.


  21. Thanks for making me laugh. I too belong to the world of ‘no singing talent’. Most days my boys put up with it. I loveit even better when they join in.


  22. This made me laugh. I am actually an okay singer, and I too make up lots of songs for my kids, one of their favorites being the rocking chair song (the lyrics are “rock, rock, rock, rock, I’m rocking in my rocking chair”, see, I’m brilliant.) I laughed because to this day, my mother cannot forget that when I was a child, I frequently asked her to stop singing, and told her she sang off key. She claims I was the only one of her children not to like her singing. My mother is truly an awful singer, but I do feel bad that I hurt her feelings.

    My first time here. I just read your bio about how your picked your blog’s name. When I went with my friend to Russia to bring home her daughter, the women in the orphanage couldn’t quite figure out how to refer to her politely (age-wise I mean). They finally settled on “old, not young,” just to really bring the point home. (She was “in her 40’s”). So that’s what we call ourselves: old, not young, mommies. I like antique, though. Everyone loves antiques. They are warm, and worn in, not out, and have an interesting texture and a weight and history to them. So Antique Mommy sounds pretty good to me.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s