Baby Anthem

This piece is especially for those out there with children. Just wondering what your baby anthem is? What are the songs that you play at certain times of the day for your infant? I didn’t know that I would have a baby anthem, but it turns out the anthem is only just beginning.

As much as I like surprises and improvisation, there are certain rituals that I do everyday. With a baby in the house, there are times of the day when some of the rhythms of a growing human being take over — taking naps, feeding, taking a bath, changing clothes, changing diapers (this one has no rhythm), soothing a crying infant. There are now songs that I associate with these life rhythms, and slowly I can feel that a baby anthem is forming. Below is a short selection of songs that I have now come to associate with my daughter.

Feeding Time

I’m going to start off with Norah Jones’ song, “Sunrise,” not because it’s one that I would actually pick to be on a baby anthem, but because it’s the one that my wife always puts on when our daughter begins feeding time. The horse-shoe-shaped feeding pillow comes out, Luna lies on top of it, and her legs start to kick in anticipation of her meal (every three hours), while a small towel rests on top of her chest in case of spills or cough-ups which happen from time to time. I cannot hear this song without thinking of breastfeeding now. I can almost taste the sweet flavour of breastmilk when she says “whoooooooo” in the chorus.

Soothing

There are two songs that are my go-to songs to sing to Luna when she’s crying and needs comfort. One of the songs is the theme song to a fictional superhero I created when I was in high school named “Slash-Eyeball” (I don’t have the recording here). The other song is the theme song to Mel Brooks’ “Blazing Saddles.” It’s a mystery as to why these songs come out of me when Luna starts to cry. Originally I thought that I might sing a lullaby (and occasionally I do), or something softer and gentler. But parenthood has a way of surprising me, and for some reason crying brings out the more overly upbeat tunes that are in my memory. This song is so ridiculous, and I make sure to emphasise whips cracking, matching the intensity of my daughter’s cries.

Bath Time

This song is one of my favourite of the bunch. Before having our daughter, I had never actually heard of Gustav Holst, I’m ashamed to say. I also don’t recall how I discovered this composer, but I’m glad I did — perhaps it was when following some YouTube rabbit holes. Regardless of the path of discovery, I feel that this song was made for bath time. There’s a certain moment that I really like at the very beginning of the song where I try to time the undoing of the diaper straps to coincide exactly with the music. It happens at exactly 17 seconds when the there’s an emphatic call and response entry of the horn and percussion session in the orchestra. Sometimes if Luna isn’t quite undressed, or she’s not in the right position I might actually cheat a bit and start the music from Holst’s previous piece devoted to Mercury to give me more time. Holst has one piece for each of the 7 planets (excluding Earth and the non-planet, Pluto). He was well ahead of his time, and each of the pieces could easily be a theme song in a movie soundtrack. For now, Jupiter is the soundtrack to bath time, and the music is almost the perfect length.

Post Bath Maintenance

Like any American family, I grew up on movies. I don’t remember the first Alfred Hitchcock movie I saw, but I have a very deep impression of Jimmy Stewart, especially in the Hitchcock classics “The Man Who Knew Too Much,” “Rear Window,” and the absolute masterpiece, “Vertigo.” “Vertigo” is an intense movie, and Stewarts character comes closer to the edge, more unhinged, than I’ve seen any of his characters before. I remember when I was young my older brother would do impressions of Jimmy Stewart, and then sometimes the “evil” Jimmy Stewart would make an appearance. He was clearly the Jimmy Stewart from “Vertigo.” Although not actually evil in the film, the character was certainly obsessed with grief, loss, lust. The soundtrack is beautiful and haunting, and I wouldn’t automatically match it with post bath-time maintenance for an infant. However, the soundtrack has more-often-than-naught become the accompanying music as I scrub the bath tub down, and my wife tends to Luna. She rubs down our daughter with lotion, applying diaper cream, changing the diaper, and I make it back over to help clean out the ears and nose of any excess gunk. My favourite part of the soundtrack are the intense strings’ section at around 40 minutes.

Pre-Sleep

While the post-bath maintenance is quite touch-and-go and can be a time of serenity, but also has the potential to be a storm of moodiness, the pre-sleep-post-bath is a special time of bonding. I always put on Chopin’s Nocturnes, and it’s at this time when our surroundings change from our apartment walls to the ballroom. The room expands and I take my daughter in my arms, twirling her gently and magically in the air as she smiles — her body and face still flushed from bath time. We have some nights when all we do during this dance is stare into each others’ smiling eyes. On other nights, as I dance with her, we engage in dialogue.

“Oh, Luna…I see that you’ve been invited to the ball again! I didn’t know that you received an invitation!”

“Why yes,” she responds. “I was invited by Isaac.”

“Isaac…but he’s many years your senior. How did you ever receive an invitation? Did he know that I would be here?”

“Yes, in fact, I believe Isaac was inviting me here so that we could connect with one another. Let us dance.”

“Yes, let us dance, dear daughter. Your mother is in the sitting room. We’ll join her a bit later.”

And so our dance goes. Twirling, whirling, rising and following — first with both hands, then under one arm, high and low. She flows with the wind, as if in a dream. We are in the great ballroom in the night-sky painting of Carcassonne that my wife painted. We’re surrounded by dukes and ladies, knights of honour, magical beasts, an old hound by the fireplace. There’s a mysterious scroll on the desk in the corner of the ballroom — a quill and ink recently used. There are corners of the castle we haven’t even begun to explore.

Our nightly ball is always full of beauty, as we exit for the Land of Nod, awaiting the next day’s soundtrack full of adventures.