But sometimes you think it is, right? You know, back when you were single: you’re driving, some epic power ballad (read: Celine Dion) comes on the radio and you’re belting it out like you’re in the music video – nay: you are in the music video. Your voice even breaks through the threat of real tears, because, God dammit, the sound of your heart beating made it clear sud-den-lyyy.
That’s when you look at the car stopped at the light next to you and make eye contact with that perfect stranger.
And of course he/she is floating in a Celine Dion haze of emotion too, right? Because you’re in a movie. And you’ve just fallen in love. It’s love at first sight. The Power of Love. Sing it, Celine.
[Meanwhile, dude is probably in his car smoking a doobie, only looked at you because you were crying and mouthing something dramatically in his direction. He’s listening to “Crazy Bitch” by Buckcherry. So you’re likely in his “movie” too.]
You know what I mean though. Hollywood has us thinking that life really is like that. Soundtracks are powerful, brainwashing tools.
So I was putting the baby to bed tonight. Bedtimes have become moderately challenging. We’re trying hard to establish a “routine”. Bath, book, lotion massage, leg/fart pumps, boob, sleep. It goes down exactly like that except that lil M screams throughout the duration of the routine.
Tonight, as he lay on his soft blanket where he gets his massage, my life became a movie. He was about to scream but I caught him just in time. I started to sing “Colors of the Wind” from Disney’s Pocahontas. I don’t mean to sound cocky but…it was amazing. Maybe it was the dim lighting, maybe I was drunk on the love of the moment but…it sounded exactly like the movie. I was Judy Kuhn. I mean, really good. Like, “why am I not on Broadway?” good. Lil M stopped his pre-cry wind up immediately and looked deep into my eyes, entranced.
[Hells yeah, he was entranced. His mother’s a f’ing Disney princess!]
It’s every kids dream. Who needs Disneyland when Pocahontas herself can sing you to sleep whilst giving you a lotion massage? It was such a beautiful moment. I knelt close to him and bent my head lower so he could see me more closely. I swear my voice hit notes it’s never hit before, even in that hunched position. I was defying the physics of vocal projection. His trance deepened and tears welled-up in my eyes. A lump in my throat threw off a few notes of the line “Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue-corn moon?”, but I think that may have even added to the movie moment. Goosebumps covered my body as I stared lovingly into my baby’s sweet eyes and crescendoed into “You can own the earth and still all you’ll own is earth until you can paaaint…” I hung on the pause after that high note, basking in its glory / my awesomeness. Lil M was suddenly rendered motionless, likely by exhilaration.
And in the silence, he shit on my thigh.
In his defense I was kneeling far too close to a naked baby butt. And, in his defense, it was a movie moment. Just a comedy. I keep forgetting that’s the genre of my life.
P.S. I swear I will not mention poop in my next post. Not even indirectly.
Love. This. Post. Now, a recording of the aforementioned song, please. (By you, of course.)
I really need to stop reading your blog at work. I sound like a hyena.
Everytime I read this. (this, that, the other ones) I feel the need to sing your praises, encourage you to write more and continue to get shat on.
You right funny and I likes to read it la’.