The boy is finally asleep. It’s been a good morning. For the first time ever, I even got some research reading and longhand writing done while he played.
My years of absorbing and singing revival-era Disney heroine songs from the 90s were all validated today. While I made bread late this morning and Liam was lying on the floor of the kitchen playing with his trains, he began singing “under sea… under sea… under sea” over and over. Then he stopped and said, “Mama sing Ariel?”
This was a significant request, because I don’t get to sing any more. If I start singing something, I am told ‘no, Mama, no singing’. I would be a lot more upset if my goddaughter hadn’t gone through a similar brief phase when she was around the age Liam is now, because I love to sing, and I tend to do it a lot around the house whether there’s music on or not.
“You want me to sing Ariel’s song? The one where she’s in her room of treasures?” (I had to make sure. If I was wrong or had misunderstood somehow, I could damage my chances of singing ever again.)
And he lay there for the full three minutes it takes to sing the entire song, sneaking me quick looks from under his lashes every so often while I sang. I remembered the whole thing word for word, where to take breaths and phrasing and everything I used to have down perfectly. He was absolutely silent until I was done. Then he calmly went back to playing with his trains.
There was something very satisfying about being able to not only fulfil a child’s request for a song, but keep him spellbound through it (even if he was trying to act cool). Today, I win.