I had an argument with my mother last week.
This isn’t an oddity, as my mother and I, well, although we do get on famously well when discussing anything important like ‘handbags, make up, perfume and when the Selfridges sale starts’, we don’t always seem to see eye to eye when it comes to the more miniscule of life’s details, like, oooo I don’t know, successful parenting?
She has her tried, tested and successful parenting techniques you see, parenting techniques that ‘did you no harm’ and ‘worked fine with you so I don’t know why it’s all changed now’, and I of course have my ‘new fangled, totally wrong but go ahead and try it, I look forward to saying I told you so’ techniques.
*DO not ever bring up Baby led weaning in our presence PLEASE. I’m serious. Just don’t. Baby led weaning is the root of all-evil! I have been reliably informed it was to blame for the bubonic plague and also that the Queen and Kate Winslet themselves think it is cruel, just cruel!!! It is obviously also the reason Addison doesn’t like vegetables now too, as I ruined his early childhood memories of eating. (Obviously.) So just don’t mention it ok? Please.
I love my mother, I love her lots, Addison adores her, she has done us countless favours and even though over the years we have had our differences (usually because she has been right and I don’t like to admit it) I have to be honest, she has and is right most of the time when it comes to stuff like… handbags and make-up.
And ok, I relent. She has been right occasionally when it comes to Addison too. (Turns out ice pops aren’t full of goodness and aren’t one of the daily recommended 1 of 5! – Who knew?) ok, she is always right. Thanks mum. I love you.
Anyway, last week as I approached the drive to her house at a sensible 60 miles an hour with ‘that awful Rihanna’ blaring out and Addison ‘head banging in the back of the car’ (this is how she would describe it) we ended up having a little tete-a-tete about suitable childhood music, and I like a naughty teenager, was duly handed a CD of nursery rhymes for the drive home.
Much to my dismay, Addison seems to prefer it to Eminem (It was radio 1!!!! Its not my fault what they play is it? But ok whatever) so I have been forced to endure HOURS OF MINDLESS NUMPTYNESS over the past week instead of the usual array of musical greatness we usually head bang, I, erm, I mean, listen to and I have, in fact come to this conclusion.
NURSERY RHYMES, or EARLY LEARNING SONGS as they are called on this CD actually teach much crueler and much more careless lessons than Rihanna or black Sabbath ever could. (….I don’t actually listen to Black Sabbath, I’m more of a Chesney Hawkes kind of girl, but that’s totally beside the point….was I the only one who grieved when he got his mole removed? Anyway… )
Don’t believe me?
Check these out!!
5 little ducks went swimming one day, over the hills and far away, mummy duck shouted quack quack quack…. Ok, first off, who in their right mind lets their children swim over a hill and far away? Even if it’s a sunny day, that just bad parenting, I mean, and to let them keep going even though she seems to be losing one at a time?? DOES SHE NOT CARE? She is lucky to get any of them back I’m telling you, I’m seriously considering ringing duck protection services the next time I forget to take my meds!!
Hickory Dickory dock…. Ok there is too many things wrong with this song. Firstly why have they rhymed dock with clock and why use dickery? That’s just too funny and I intend to use it the next time The irish one and I are trying not to swear. ‘WHAT THE DICKERY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?’ and then lets see if mum thinks it’s appropriate huh? And also, Have these people never heard of pest control? Mice are vermin for godsake!! If it’s run down the clock may I suggest a) setting a trap? And b) sealing the hole in the back of the clock? I mean what if it messes with the time? Then what!!!! You’d be dickery Docked!
12345 once I caught a fish alive, 678910, then I threw it back again… Did you even stop to consider the impact this would have on the fish? It’s just inconsideration.
This old man (what old man?) he played… KNICK KNACK PADDY WHACK ON YOUR WHAT??? Who is this old man and why do I need to give a dog a bone? Is he rolling home from the pub? What kind of lesson is that? I am trying to teach Addison to respect women and not drink in pubs, sure he is only 2, but you can never start too early, and what if he asks me what knick knack paddy whack is huh? What do I say then? His daddy is a paddy!!! Is that not politically correct? WELL THEN NIETHER IS THE SONG! (Just go with me.)
Please pudding hot, please pudding cold? Please pudding in the pot nine days old…some like it hot, some like it cold, and some like it in the pot nine days old… SERIOUSLY? Yes, and some prefer not to get GASTROENTERITIS.
Pat a cake bakers man…– now I like that one. Apart from all the tossing and pricking that is. Just give me the damn cake and baby isn’t getting any. It’s mine.
Do your ears hang low, do they waggle to and fro, (?!?!?!) can you tie them in a knot? Can you tie them in a bow? Can you throw them over your shoulder like a regimental soldier? – Why? What if they did? WHAT IS THE POINT IN THIS SONG???? Is it ok if I can’t do it with my ears, but can with my boobs? DO I still count????
There was a farmer who had a dog and bingo was his name… STOP RIGHT THERE PLEASE DON’T SPELL IT… oh my god. You spelled it. 40 times. And now I need to go back to the mental hospital. But seriously, what was the name of that dog? I forgot.
Polly put the kettle on, Polly put the kettle on, (OK SHE HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME!) Polly put the kettle on, we will all have tea. Suki take it off again, Suki take it off again, they’ve all gone away… I’m unsure as to whether they all left because you refused to stop singing at Polly or because this song is trying to teach children it is ok to mess with kettles. IT ISNT!! THIS SONG IS DANGEROUS!!!
I’m a little teapot… HERE IS MY SPOUT? Really? I am re-naming willy to spout from now on. IRISH ONE! KEEP YOUR SPOUT AWAY FROM ME. That is an order, and I will throw my boobs over my shoulder like a regimental soldier to prove it.
Wind the bobbin up… What is a bobbin thank you please? To be honest, it seems to involve a little too much effort for my liking. Why am I pointing to the ceiling? Why am I pointing to the floor? And WHY do I need to put my hand on my knee? IM DRIVING!!! HAVE YOU NEVER HEARD THAT OPERATING A BOBBIN WHILE DRIVING IS DANGEROUS? I should have this CD reported to the DVLA.
And don’t even get me started on the spider ones!
I like hey Diddle Diddle though. It was clearly written by somebody on day 2 of new medication while staying in a mental institute. I remember it well.
It was me who jumped over the moon, and the dish did run away with the spoon. I KNEW IT!!!!
ANYWAY, as of tomorrow we will be listening to Rihanna again*.
‘When the sun shine, we shine together, told you I’d be here forever, said I’d always be your friend, took a note and now I’m gonna stick it out till the end, now that its raining more than ever, know that we’ll still have each other, you can stand under my umbrella…EE EEE EEE EEE !!!’
Those lyrics say more to my son, inspire more hope in me, and ensure more smiles, than 5 little speckled frogs sitting on a speckled log eating poop (not original lyrics) ever could. (That’s my excuse and I am sticking to it.)
HEAD BANG ADDY HEAD BANG!
*I may change to nursery rhymes sometimes. If I have to. On a Wednesday. Between 10-11. If it’s raining… or if he tantrums… which is likely… you know what? I’ll just buy ear plugs.