Harper is at that stage where it is near impossible to keep him still while trying to change his diaper or clothes. He wants to roll over onto his tummy, squirm, put his feet in his mouth etc., and it sure makes dressing him tough. He especially hates putting his arms through the arm holes for some odd reason, and fusses about it until the job is done.
For the past couple of days I’ve kept him somewhat still and fuss free by singing to him. Today, for some reason, I couldn’t think of anything to sing him, so I started making up a song. There was no rhyme or reason to what I was singing, basically I was just singing what I would usually be saying…whatever works, right?
Making up songs for him today reminded me of when my sister and I were little and shared a room. We would both turn sideways on our beds with our heads hanging over the edge and talk until we got sleepy and then we would take turns singing songs to each other. Of course, since I was about 8 or 9 and she was around 4 or 5, all the songs we sang were made up. Usually they were about nice things like butterflies and rainbows, so we would have good dreams.
If you ask my sister, she’ll probably tell you that she did the majority of the song singing at night. I would tell her that if she sang me a good song, then I would sing to her second…only that rarely happened because I was fast asleep before it got to be her turn. Or, if I was still awake at the end of her song, I would tell her it wasn’t long enough, and she’d start singing me a new one.
I guess that was one of the (few) privileges of being the older sister…I got to boss her around and fall asleep to my sweet little sister singing to me about pink and purple butterflies.