I sing to Madelynn pretty much all day long. In the mornings, it's usually "You Are My Sunshine", first nap gets "Rockabye Mady", and every diaper change is prefaced with "The Diaper Song", which isn't a real song, just one that I made up to the tune of the "Animail" segment on 'World's Funniest Animals'. Usually these songs are sung really loud, and involve lots of bouncing as I skip down the hallway with her on my hip. With the exception of nap time songs, these giddy displays can turn even the crabbiest baby into a grinning, drooling mess, forcing her to grip onto my shoulder and brace herself while giggles pour out from between her chattering teeth. I have to support her back and neck with one arm, and literally hold her head on with my other hand, (well I guess I don't have to, her neck muscles are superb, but it makes me feel better) while keeping my elbows in as to not smack them off either side of the hallways. I've kept this up since her head control became well established, and I've managed to fake the happiness in these songs on days when I just didn't feel like it. Until I got sick. I've sung to her these past few days, but the usual gusto and bounciness had inevitably fallen out of the songs, but I didn't realize that she even noticed, until today.
See I'm completely unsick now, actually feeling better than ever, so when I noticed a puffy pee diaper, I put Mady on my hip, sang "The Diaper Song" louder than usual, and skipped down the hallway so hard her hair was blowing in the breeze. The scream that emitted from her mouth was comparable to the scream of a baby who just got her first shot. I stopped mid skip and looked at her like she was crazy, which made her scream louder while trying to push away from me like I was Monster Mommy, and instead of simply trying to go back to our old routine, I had introduced some sad form of child abuse. If she had a phone, I believe she would have called CYS all by herself. What a sad diaper change that turned out to be.
She wasn't mad for long, and when I started a screeching rendition of "The Witchdoctor", she screeched right back, giggling and kicking legs, drool dropping from her mouth to my cheek as I jiggled her in her airplane pose. I guess I deserved the drool bath after scaring her to tears, but I just can't believe she forgot. Three days ruined a three month routine. I wonder when she develops a better memory?
I'm a little nervous for her next puffy diaper.