Pictures of My Musical Muse

Singing a New Song

Having a baby has brought some new talents in me that I didn't know I had. For example, when the little guy is grumpy, I find myself making up songs. Some are songs that are completely original, like "I've Got the Baby Bath Blues":

Well, my name is Jacob.
And I've got the blues.
I said my name is Jacob.
And I've got the blues.
Cuz I hate being naked.
It's the baby bath blues.

Well, now mommy,
She treats me right.
And my daddy,
always by my side.
But when it's bathtime,
Two worlds collide.

I start to screamin'
Pitch quite a fit.
I start to squirmin'
to get out of it.
I hate that bath.
I hate it bad.
Please let me go,
Won't ya, mom and dad.

My name is Jacob.
I've got the blues.
I said my name is Jacob.
I've got the blues.
I hate bein' naked.
Right down to my shoes.
My name is Jacob
And I've got the baby bath blues.

Oh yeah.

Then there are songs I make up the tune of other songs. This one can be sung to the melody of the Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash.

Well, I have a poop a comin'.
It's comin' round the bend.
And I've been a pushin'
out my rear end.
But it just ain't a happenin'.
No, I just can't poop.
I know when it gets here
it's gonna be like soup.

Well, I am just a baby,
my momma tells me, "Son,
I get so worried when
Your poop won't come."
I really am a tryin'.
Trust me mom and dad.
I really am a pushin'.
I want to poop so bad.

Oh man there it comes,
No, I won't stop now.
Boy I filled that diaper, and
I need a new one now.
Change my dirty diaper.
Make me fresh and clean.
You said you wanted poop.
Aren't you proud of me?

These songs probably aren't grammy material, but they sure get him to stop crying. Jacob loves music. Whenever he starts hollering, we start singing and he gets quiet and listens so intently that you think he would sing along.

I wonder if that's going to be a sign of something later.

Anyway, that's all the news. There will be pictures coming soon. I promise.

Time, Time, Time

See what's become of me?

You know. You go to work.

You come home.

You go to school.

You stop by the store.

You change a diaper.

You eat a Reese's Peanut Cup.

You do some homework.

You hold your baby.

You take out the trash.

You find a dime on the ground.

You drink a cup of tea.

You stop by McDonald's.

You gas up your car and wash the windshield while you're there.

You wait in line.

Everywhere.

Your lips get chapped because of the cold.

You sleep.

You get some laundry done.

And scrub your tub.

And get old.

And the tic, tic, toc of the clock doesn't slow or speed up.

Relentless, the unstoppable object.

And it's been two weeks since you've blogged,

or checked your email,

or phoned the people who are closest to you.