Single Babies: My Tiny Kid Loves Music
When you become a parent you pretend a lot. Inwardly and outwardly, you conduct yourself in a way that often doesn’t reflect the whole truth. You have to BE confident, happy, wise and in control as much as possible, even in situations where you feel scared, sad, confused and lost. You have to conjure these qualities because someone else needs you to have those qualities. You become an actor of sorts.
Eventually, if you’re lucky, you do exhibit bravery, wisdom, joy and so forth. The line between fiction and reality blurs. You faked it until you made it. But, the distinction between acting versus being is unimportant so long as your impressionable offspring perceive you the way you’ve intended. If your kid thinks you’re a hero, you are a hero.
Myself? I pretend in the smallest of ways. I’ve faked liking stuff that I actually loathe. This became clear to me years ago when I assumed the role of de facto guardian for my fiancée’s daughter. Her name is Marli. Countless times, immediately after a rough day of work, she would bombard me with one-sided conversation. In those moments, feet still sore, I could not have cared less. Still, I had to become a good actor while I take off my boots because my interest in her interests is more important than my fleeting mood.
The notion of parents “acting” around their kids may make some people feel uneasy (even though every parent does it). To act is to be inauthentic and dishonest; and wanting to rebuke those qualities is understandable. I’ve felt it myself.
So parents must confront this dilemma. But, how?
Well, you have to BE authentic and honest. You gotta be yourself… only… responsibly. If you like hunting, you take your kids hunting. If they don’t like it, whatever. But you showed them who you are, and you led them to a new experience. Let the chips fall where they may.
In my case, I like music. I like playing it, studying it, listening to it, talking about it. I can’t be myself without showing my love for music. Thankfully, my family loves music, too. (Kinda hard not too.)
We don’t always like the same albums or songs, or maybe we just aren’t in the mood for the same type of jams. But there’s always music playing at my house, and Nola, my 13 months-old child is my biggest enthusiast-in-crime. She dances, she plays bongos, she sings. And most heart-warmingly, when she’s enjoying music, she smiles the biggest of smiles and giggles the purest of laughs.
If it’s bedtime and I play the right song, she nestles up to me, displaying a kind of peace that I wish I could revisit.
Not to brag… but… Nola has some pretty great taste. (Marli has decent taste, but she’s a teenager now, and never has there been a teenager who hasn’t listened to at least some awful music.)
Regardless, observing the way my daughter and my fiancée’s daughter interact with music is special to me. Marli and I share a deep love for “The Scientist” by Coldplay. It’s her number one favorite song (or it was last month), and it’s been among my favorites since I was close to her age. I’m fascinated by how much its meaning to me has evolved over the years despite being the exact same song it was when I first heard it. And I’m now more in love with it because I know that Marli has her own reasons for loving it that are completely her own.
What’s even more special is that, even though she and I both have our own reasons for loving the song, we also have a shared reason: we both love the song.
In the weeks after I first introduced Marli to “The Scientist” she demanded I play the song ad nauseam. She had liked plenty of songs I’d shown her in the past, but her response to this one was different. Young as she was, when she sang along with the lyrics, I could see powerful emotions on her face and wheels turning in her head.
To be a parent is to do a number of things (including but not limited to):
1) accept that the world is simultaneously harrowing and wonderful,
2) understand that you have (intentionally or otherwise) created something that will have to maneuver such a world, and
3) guide that creation in a way that brings it joy but also prepares it for the realities of its situation.
Music is a perfect tool for achieving those goals. Music is so varied and so well-entrenched in the innumerable creators’ life experiences that there is always a piece, album or song to complement a situation. Nola, despite her very young age, has a strong relationship with music already, and that gives me hope that she’ll someday be fit to enjoy the other miracles of life, too.
Her favorite song is “Single Ladies” by the goddess Beyoncé.
The moment Nola initially heard the opening beat, she immediately started dancing. She does this comical bouncing that unfortunately looks a lot like a “drop” to the floor. I obviously try not to think of it that way. She loves the song so much that there hasn’t been a day since she first heard it then that she doesn’t go, “Uh, uh oh” to the tune of the memorable chorus.
(I don’t blame her though— “Beyoncé had the BEST VIDEO OF ALL TIME! THE BEST VIDEO OF ALL TIME!”)
Many other songs arouse Nola, too. We listen to laid back songs (“Don’t Know Why” by Norah Jones), classic tunes (“Stay”— Jackson Browne version), modern bangers (“Payday [edited]” by Doja Cat and Young Thug), and even wacky Spanish-inspired Progressive Rock (“Drunkship of Lanterns” by The Mars Volta).
Thankfully, Nola is at the age where the lyrical topics of music are beyond her. Her life is still new. But her ability to immerse herself in dance and happiness when listening to music tells me that she senses the humanity and wide breadth of emotions being projected towards her. She loves to play bongos and she loves to watch me play my drum set.
I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I suspect that music will further become, and remain, an integral part of her life.
Circling back to what I mentioned before: being a parent requires a delicate balance of fictitious performance and genuineness. That is: I don’t want to listen to “Single Ladies” all the time anymore. Not for the next ten years, honestly. But I do love that song. So, even though I’m sort of just… acting like I want to hear it for the fiftieth time this week, I can also say, with a strange and oxymoronic honesty, that I do wanna hear it again... because Nola wants to hear it again.
Attached below is an Apple Music playlist I’ve created comprised of Nola’s favorite songs. Marli’s favorite song “The Scientist” is included as well. Obviously, Nola loves this playlist. I’d wager you’ll love it, too.
