Monday, November 21, 2005
Mr. Sandman, Bring Me a Dream
I came to an amazing revelation yesterday, motherhood changes you. I don't mean physically, although the extra skin on my waist is a definite change. I did something yesterday that I swore I would NEVER do again.
It all began in 6th grade. I was in choir preparing for our Christmas show. It was the last rehearsal before the show, and I was excited as I stood in the front row with all the other short people wearing my sweatshirt proudly displaying our gold Raider mascot. I made sure my Santa hat was on perfect allowing my bangs not to be squished. (It was the 80s!) We finished our first song, and we were amazing. Then, the choir teacher called me up in front of everyone! I wondered, am I directing? Am I being thanked for my dedication? Am I doing a solo????
She then said the words that would scar me for life, "Brigitte, could you just mouth the words?" As everyone giggled, I slumped back to my front row spot. I was singled out as the worst singer. There were thousands of us, and I was the worst? Ok, there were only about a 100, but still... It was then I swore I would NEVER sing in public again.
I have stuck by my self-imposed rule until yesterday.
Barrett loves my singing. His favorite is Mr. Sandman. How I figured that out I have no idea. I don't remember the first time I sang it to him, but it always makes him smile. When he first started smiling, singing Mr. Sandman was the one thing that always prompted a grin. Slowly I have gotten more brave singing it in front of one or two people, but only family and close friends. His smile is so cute that I'd choose embarrassing myself so others can see him smile too.
In Sunday school yesterday, the activity we had planned required the 4th graders to sing "Thy Word". The 3rd graders, who I've already done this activity with, sang it as soon as I mentioned the song. So, when I said, "Who knows 'Thy Word'?" yesterday, I expected to hear the kids start singing. They all just stared blankly. I knew they should know this song, but they all looked at each other first. It was then that I faced my fear. I sang in front of them, and to my amazement, they didn't laugh, they joined in. It was a great moment!
I promise that no matter how horrible Barrett's singing voice is (genetics are not on his side), I will tell him he's the best. And, when the day comes that someone tells him he can't sing, I will be there to sing along with him, like my 4th graders did with me.