all those tears I cried

I recently complained about my daughter’s love and obsession with the music from High School Musical.

But internets?  Oh internets, something happened last week that convinced me there could be hope yet.  Alice was in her nightly bath, playing with a naked Snow White and naked Jasmine (ok, it gets better), while I zoned out next to her on the edge of the tub.  (Word to the wise: an 8 month pregnant mom with nothing substantial at 7PM but Britney Spears’ breakdown on the brain does not make for an engaged parent.  So Alice is usually left to fend for herself when it comes to bathtime play these days, ’cause this mama can hardly keep her head up at night never mind engage in playtime).

Suddenly Alice started singing softly to herself and what came out of her mouth was like candy for my ears, which have been sorely filled with Disney songs as of late.

“oh, oh oh oh, oh, oh, you don’t have to go…”

Say what?  Can you hear that?  Is that not the sound of a high school memory coming back to say hello, a smell of beer and cheap wine on a Friday night in 1990 in a downtown Toronto basement filled with a room of 17 year olds?  Is my child not singing LED ZEPPELIN Jesus lord?

“What was that you were just singing, Alice??”  My heart pounding.  Could it be?  Oh PLEASE let it be!

“This is a song I learned from daycare” she said, making Jasmine dance to D’yer Mak’er.  “Oh oh oh oh oh oh….  Isn’t it a fun song mommy?”

Now I was never an over-the-top Zeppelin fan, but I must admit I did go through my own Houses of the Holy love-fest in high school.  My girlfriends and I used leave the confines of our Catholic all-girls school at 3PM and head over to L’s house, who not only had more freedom than most of us in high school, she also had the Houses of the Holy album.  Which we would play over and over again while discussing how “non-conformist” we were.  Right.

But those were the days of teenage wonder and glee and sadness all tied up together, closely interwoven.  And hearing a song like D’yer Mak’er come out of my 4 year old’s mouth was like heaven for a moment.  High School Musical be damned!  There’s hope for my little friend yet.



  1. Our reaction if that happened in our home… well omg, it would be like the heavens parting and a saviour has come (to save me from the horrible, horrible audio torture that has gone on far too long).

  2. Marla said

    I’m just grateful that Josephine has switched from her preference of the “Bambi’s Daddy Video” with Avril Lavigne ( ) for falling asleep at night (it cracks me up how when I give up on her going to sleep in my company, Steve comes in and says to her “Your mother can’t be with you any more.” to the Goo’s with “Iris” ( ). Now I can teach her who Iris Dement is! It’s awesome! I’m with you!

    Soon Alice will be in fifth grade, and that Led Zep song will come on, and Marty Glomski will grope Julianna Fiddler’s ass and she’ll wish…oh…wait…that was me. Sorry.

  3. landismom said

    My 8 y.o. told me the other day that she stopped liking country music. You can’t imagine the sigh of relief that I uttered!

  4. Ingrid said

    Alice totally rocks.

    Bibi’s new favourite song this days is “hang the dj hang the dj hang the dj — HANG the dj, hang the dj” She and Des have a new game called “flashlight dancing” where they turn off all the living room lights and dance around holding flashlights (do you see why they call it flashlight dancing?) listening to the Smiths. If they were drinking Schnapps, it would Grade 11.

  5. Lisa b said

    This is truly a moment for the baby book. What a gift.
    I’ve been lucky, I think I mentioned this before. We were at Disney last month and the girl was more interested in the duck and my funnel cake than the cinderella castle stupid show or whatever that dance-a-thon on the ‘castle’ porch is called with cinderella and snow white and some party crasher that looked like barbie but probably has her own story I should know.

  6. crazymumma said

    I was blessed with a brother seven years my senior. Dyer maker was anthem to my girlhood.

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