Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Songs for Her Sassiness

In light of the utter relief I felt when my job with the boys ended, it is safe to assume that I won't be returning to work for their family, even if/when my former boss finds another job.  That said, I couldn't be happier with my current situation.  A few days of work per week balances out my study/application time, not to mention, brings in some desperately needed cash.  So, since this little one will be playing the lead role in upcoming nanny-related posts, I'd say it's about time for a formal introduction:
Fuzzy and self-photographed - but check out the smiles!
Too cute, right?  Well, get this - today, September 14th, is her quarter-birthday!  Three months old today, and I get to spend it with her.  Heretofore (blog)named Birdie - Radish readers, meet Birdie; Birdie, meet Radish readers.  Okay, now you can all ogle her and tell me how freaking adorable she is. 

The cheeks!  The smile!  The chub!  Birdie girl has got it all figured out.  She's got her mama, her daddy, and me all waiting on her hand and (tiny) foot.  She loves nothing more than to be held and snuggled, and is generally easy-going - except when she's not.  Little baby, BIG lungs.  This sassy girl can reach some very impressive decibels when something isn't rocking her world.  But, bless her, she so stoically hams it up for the camera anyway:

I need to brush up on my song repertoire for this one.  Girl can't get enough of it (which is saying something, because um, yeah, I shouldn't quit my day job to become a professional singer, that's all).  I know very few "kid" songs, start to finish.  I tend to sing the same verse of Amazing Grace ad nauseum, or the bits and pieces of "This Land is Your Land," "Oh My Darling Clementine," and "The Wheels on the Bus" that I know.  Then, the other day, I had a realization: just because I don't remember the words to some inane children's song doesn't mean I can't sing to this music-craving girl.  So I promptly pulled out some Katy Perry.

You're so hypnotizing, could you be the devil, could you be an angel...

She loved it.  One rendition of bad pop music under my belt, and next I was belting out Lady GaGa, closely followed by a smattering of Ke$ha, P!nk, and Britney.   Lest she think I only listen to Top 40, I threw in some Tegan and Sara, The Weepies, and Jack Johnson.  She was transfixed.  I promised her that tomorrow, we'd move on to Dar Williams and Antje Duvekot, with a bit of Rihanna and the Black Eyed Peas - but only if she's good.

No comments: