Thursday, April 19, 2007


My one-year old daughter Sera likes music. That doesn't set her apart from other people, but what does is the fact that she likes for me to sing. I have a decent singing voice. It's nothing to write home about, but I can carry a tune. When we were in China trying to get her to sleep at night, I would sing anything to her from "Hotel California" to "Hey Jude" and she would sing along with me in the sweetest monotone you ever heard. I learned quickly, though, that I need to bone up on my lyrics, since the only song I can do from beginning to end is "Hotel California."

Since returning home from China, Sera has had trouble going to sleep at night, which is understandable given the 12-hour time difference. We have been jet lagged for a few days now; I would say indirectly because my wife and I didn't sleep on the way home and Sera did. So one of us is still on China time and she makes sure that the rest of us know about it.

The other night I was rocking with her, hoping that she would take less than an hour to go out. Nothing was working. No position change would make her comfortable. We don't yet have a glider in the nursery, so we are using a simple stackable chair. About 45 minutes into severe back pain for me, she started humming in that monotone. I had forgotten! So, shortly after a lovely rendition of "Twinkle, Twinkle," she went to sleep. It may not be American Idol, but my audience of one would vote for me every time, and that's all that matters.

My little American Idol.

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