Music to me.

I am not sure if any of you are aware of my love of singing, but I have one. I love singing. I may not know who the singer is, the title of the song, but if I know the words, I really enjoy belting out a tune or two. I am usually aware of my surroundings, and I never intentionally sing to embarrass myself or my family or friends. By no means am I a good good singer, and I never pretend to be...well, I should take that back. If I am in the shower and the radio is on, sometimes (not always) I get carried away and I do believe that I could be the next American Idol. As soon as the soap is out of my hair, the water turns off, the acoustics of the room turn back to normal, I quickly realize that it was a foolish thought. Singing relieves stress and I think endorphins, anyways, it makes me happy :)

Now that I have completely surrendered to the holiday season I have started listening to some of my favorite Christmas songs. I am not obsessed with Christmas songs (yet) and I only listen as I am trying to focus on some sort of holiday project or if it is requested by myself or Mallory in the car. I am all about tradition and love listening to the songs and singers that bring me back to a place in my childhood that seem so real if I close my eyes and open them I could be back at that point in time. My parents always listened to Anne Murray's Christmas album. It doesn't matter what song she is singing, if it is from her holiday record or tape (depending on the era) I instantly feel all warm and fuzzy and get that excited, "can't wait to open presents" feel in the pit of my stomach. I won't ever celebrate a Christmas without having her songs on in the background. It would not be Christmas without.

Some songs overcome me with such emotion I can barely keep my eyes dry. If I hear Away in a Manger I can almost hear my Grandma Crandall humming along to it as we drive to church on Christmas morning. If I close my eyes I can see her wearing her black suede gloves, holding a Kleenex, and humming to the song. I can even smell her altoid. Some days I want desperately to go back to those Christmas morning car rides just one last time. I miss her beautiful deep hum.

I believe my love for singing partially came from my Grandma Krois. She always found a way to sing a silly song to get my cousins and my sister and I to laugh. What a lady. There was no one like her. Remember Raffi? "Down by the Bay" "Willabee Wollabee Whoo" It might be some of the earliest memories I have; preschool concerts.... I found this CD before I had Mallory and I bought it. One afternoon, very very pregnant, I put the CD in the player, sat on the floor and folded all sorts of baby clothes. I sang along with the songs, and thought to myself "I can't wait to sing these songs to Mallory". Time passed on and when I had the sanity to think of songs and CD players with a newborn in the house, I layed Mallory in her boppy, sat down on the floor to fold laundry and folded clothes. I sang, Mallory slept, and I cried...ok so I was a tad sleep deprived, but the memory was made and I finally had her on the outside to sing to. It wasn't long before she could clap and bounce along with Raffi and my crazy voice as we sang and danced together. This afternoon as we drove home from Christmas shopping she asked from the backseat "Can we listen to Raffi?" We put one of our favorites on; Five Green and Speckled Frogs. Together we did the little hand gestures and silly sounds that go with the song. I turned to Brent and said "For almost 3 years I have been singing that song to her, she knows almost every single word." Sigh. What a moment.

One day she'll either completely despise the album because "her mom made her listen to it ALL. THE. TIME." or if I am really lucky, maybe she'll carry it with her as a great memory and sing along to it with her kids... A mom can only hope.