I'm a stay at home mom to three kids aged 6, 4, and 2. My life is in a constant state of chaos but we're just a week away from all three of my monsters darlings going to school every morning. Which leaves me, finally, some breathing room and hopefully some time to write. They're incredible kids but they take just about every ounce of energy I have. However, they're also kind of hysterical at times and if nothing else, I'd like to record some of it for posterity. And possibly to remind myself that they can be a blast when they're acting like obnoxious little hellions.
Yesterday while my youngest was up for his nap, my two older girls played happily together with doll houses, assorted sized dolls, various clothes and a story they made up as they went along. For the most part, they picked parts of favorite Disney movies like Tangled and Beauty and the Beast. They also tossed in some themes of a few DVDs I regret buying but that they love - mostly Barbie Island Princess. So the dolls spent time doing princess-y things like dancing, being confined to towers, and inviting each other to parties.
There's nothing at all new about the girls having play time like this. They get along (mostly) well and follow each other's lead with the stories without too much bickering. I tend to listen absently while working on the computer or reading and have heard them play this way for hours at a time. They love it.
Yesterday though, a new element was added to the play. Spontaneous princess singing. It was, frankly, some of the worst music I've ever heard. And I worked for years in community theatre, folks.
You have to understand that princess dolls don't speak in normal voices. No, no, they have high pitched squeaky giggly sounds that I can only compare to vocal nails on sparkly pink chalk boards. Their father and I are now telling them they simply can't use the voices anymore when the dolls are yelling for help, crying hysterically, calling for each other, and now, singing.
What was worse though was the way the girls sang. Last year when we had a DVR and cable, I used to record and watch Saturday Night Live quite a bit. The one and only skit I always FF'd past was Garth and Kat on the Weekend Update. Almost instantly I pictured my girls in matching embroidered vests while leading each other in a terrible, off key performance of a song they made up on the fly. The girls love music but they simply can't carry a tune between them. For around 15 minutes they "sang" about the trials of princess life and whether or not they could invite each other to a tea party, get rescued from wolves, or escape from bad witches. Both girls were pleased and proud of themselves but I just felt like I was trapped at a bad reality show audition.
Rather than go all Simon Cowell on them, I grabbed headphones and started iTunes, IMd their father and complained steadily about it. Since he was at work and unable to actually listen to the.. I won't call it music so let's just use the word sound, he found it all very amusing. He was wrong of course, it was torture and enduring it should have earned me some sort of parenting medal. In the end though, all I got was the (unwanted) orange tea cup and some imaginary cakes. But at least they'd ended their song, so I was happy.
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