You gotta sing if you Spirit says "Sing!"

I love singing; there really is no two ways about it. Anyone who has had to live with me for any amount of time knows this. Unlike many, I do not restrict my singing to the shower. My singing seems to spill out into every room, and sometimes even the streets. Here in Spain is no exception. When I was not as settled in my singing was quieter and less often, mostly restricted to little ditties for the nine month old baby. As I became more and more acustomed to my new home the singing, predictibly, became louder and more frequent. One day I was in the kitchen with the baby, cooking or cleaning or some other such productive task, when I began to sing, as is my habit. I really got into it, belting out the notes as passionately as I could and hitting the high notes with all my confidence. Then I looked at the baby (his name is Bruno). His brow was furrowed, his bottom lip stuck out and trembling and a piteous whine of anguish was issuing from his mouth. I was confused at first, but didn’t stop singing until his whine had escalated to a wail and I realized what was wrong. I stopped singing and scooped him up, trying not to drop him because I was laughing so hard.

I told his dad about the incident later on and he offered the explanation that both his sons were sensitive to loud noises and thus it was my volume, not my pitch that frightened Bruno. That made sense...after all, he didn’t seem to mind my little lullabies before. What was I to do? I can’t just sing lullabies all the time! Yesterday we were in a similar situation in the kitchen and I began to sing, but quieter and with less force. Whenever he seemed to begin to crumble I would distract him with a toy. Eventually I was singing and he was smiling…at the same time! I certainly doubt it was because I was singing that he was smiling, but I’ll take what I can get.

I’ll add this bit, just because Bruno’s brother, Leo, would feel left out if I didn’t. As of right now, with my level of understanding and competence in Spanish, my speech is punctuated with correction from whatever native speaker I am conversing with. Leo decided to get in on the fun today when I asked him “Que tal?” and he immediately replied, “No, Que tal”. That’s what I said!

May there be thousand reasons for you to laugh this weekend.

Kika