My wife is halfway through her pregnancy with my daughter, Lola. I know, I know… I’m supposed to say “we” are halfway through “our” pregnancy with Lola. The fact is, I’m not the one that was barfing every morning and I’m not the one with swollen feet. I’m not the one rubbing anti-stretch mark cream on my belly. To say “our” or “we” pertaining to being pregnant just feels like I’m taking credit where credit isn’t due. All I did was knock her up and that was the easiest 2.5 minutes of my life.
Seriously though, I enjoy being there for Sarah through “her/our” pregnancy. We’re at this point where Lola’s ears are supposed to be developed and so the great debate begins on playing music for the growing fetus.
Some say that playing classical music can stimulate the baby’s brain growth and will mold them into a future Nobel prize winner and the movements inside are the fetus conducting along to the top 40 hits of Beethoven. Others say that music can be disturbing in the womb and the movements in the womb are the fetus punching and kicking because nobody wants to hear Bon Jovi while your ears are developing. Actually, it’s been 31 years after my ears have developed and I STILL don’t want to hear Bon Jovi. Then of course there’s people that say you can’t force your kid to be the next Mozart. If your wife gives birth to a 12 yr old Chinese cellist, well, then you got lucky and that’s how just nature works.
I pretty much agree with the last opinion. However it’s fun to imagine that my baby will also love rocksteady ska and reggae. When in truth, she probably can’t handle something so complex and wants something with a cheesy chorus that will loop every 8 seconds in the damn song. She probably wants to hear fun, happy songs about riding on a bus and eating apples… only to outgrow it and listen to tween crap. By then, the tween sensation will probably be whatever offspring Miley Cyrus and her dad have together. Yeah I know, that’s inappropriate to say, but you gotta admit, the way they publicize their “bond” is a lil’ creepy. Like, Angelina Jolie’s relationship w/ her brother, before she started banging famous actors and adopting small countries.
I digress, Sarah and I decided to have fun and take this time to play some mellow tunes for my daughter to enjoy. We started off with Chris Murray, one of his earlier solo EP’s. Sure, the subject material may not be appropriate but luckily right now, my daughter’s primary language is amniotic fluid. For those of you with no sense of humor, that means she has no idea what the song is saying. Sarah followed up on another evening with Lo and the Magnetics. It’s one of my top 5 favorite albums of all time. The fact that my wife made that selection without me being in the room tells me that she really knows/loves? me and that she cares that our daughter has fantastic taste in music.
The music we’ve been playing may not be the most complex to help form a brain but think about it. Have you ever listened to Fugue in G minor in a room by yourself? It’s kinda scary and that’s coming from a dude that’s in his 30’s. Imagine how Lola would feel and let me remind you.. she’s in the dark!
Don’t worry sweet Lola. Daddy will be dragging you to PIMPBOT shows, soon enough.