Anything I can sing along with that doesn't contain naughty words. (I hate it when someone ruins a perfectly good song by throwing in a naughty word. Hate it.)
If you are planning to give me a CD for Christmas, your options are WIDE open. Lots of country music fits into my favorite genre (love to belt it out with Reba, Martina, and Carrie), ABBA's Greatest Hits are all very singable, thanks Bionic Man for introducing me to Coldplay and Viva La Vida, and I can't complete this list without mentioning a little ditty known as Handel's Messiah. See? I'm musically very well rounded.
I have passed this trait onto my children. We appreciate a good mini-van sing-along. (Although Endeavor appreciates it more when I keep the windows rolled up. Ten year olds embarrass so easily.) Superkid especially loves to sing loudly along with any song she hears that even mildly appeals to her. Unlike her older sister, Superkid does not embarrass easily, which is why I've had the opportunity to push a shopping cart through a grocery store to the musical accompaniment of four-year-old Superkid singing "We Will Rock You." It is also why each and every time we walk outside and feel a few raindrops, Superkid bursts into a joyful rendition of "Singin' in the Rain." She's taught it to her entire kindergarten class. They all sing it on rainy days as they wait outside at parent-pickup. I'm not kidding!
I appreciate Superkids ability to sing in the rain, literally and figuratively. Being able to sing in the rain is the ultimate glass-half-full attitude. "Come what may and love it." The heavens open and pour upon your head and you dance in the deluge. That's Superkid.
Yesterday we had appointments at our local children's hospital. Superkid was seeing her metabolic specialist and was getting an echocardiogram. The echo was ordered mostly to soothe the nerves of her slightly-paranoid mother and extremely supportive pediatrician. Paranoid as I am, I really didn't think they would find anything to be concerned about. Which was why I was a little surprised when Dr. E, Superkid's cardiologist, came to find us as we waited for the metabolic appointment. There was a bit of an arrhythmia that showed up during the echo, and Dr. E thought Superkid should wear a recording monitor for 24 hours so they could investigate that arrhythmia a little further.
I haven't done arrhythmia before. This is a new one for me. It might turn out to be nothing, but I hate wondering.
After the metabolic appointment, in which we heard some good news, some bad news, and not much news that shed light on anything, we went back to diagnostic cardiology to get the monitor. Superkid chatted away with the technician as she hooked her up. Soon we were out the door with a portable recording device that will track Superkid's every heartbeat for the next 24 hours.
It was such a little thing, but as I walked to the parking garage with Superkid, now carrying her monitor over one shoulder like it was a purse, I felt like crying. Six year olds shouldn't have to worry about how they are going to play at recess while they wear a heart monitor.
It's really coming down out there.
Superkid skipped alongside me, as I blinked rapidly and clenched my jaw. "I was afraid this monitor would be like the one after heart surgery," Superkid informed me. "I thought it might be too heavy to carry. But this monitor is very nice! It is very small, and I can put it in my pocket!" I nodded. "I love this place!" Superkid said fondly, throwing her arms wide, as if to hug the hospital building. "Lots of people know me here and they all noticed that I had grown bigger! And they have toys for me when I come. And Dr. E is my favorite doctor and he loves me back. I wish all kids had a hospital like my hospital because kids need hospitals that make them better when they are sick and that have people in them that like kids. Isn't this the best place, Mommy?"
She's singing in the rain.
Last night, when I called my parents to give them our hospital report, my mother reminded me that it was exactly one year ago when Superkid was in surgery, getting her new heart valve. That helped put things into perspective. We are so blessed. I am so grateful that Superkid just keeps trying and never forgets that it might be raining, but she can still sing.
Someone gave us a Josh Groban CD last year. I know not everyone appreciates Josh Groban, but Superkid does. This is her favorite song. She told me, after listening to it a few times, that she's pretty sure it is a song for kids who need heart surgery. "You can hear the heart monitor," she explained to me once. True: when you play this song on your car stereo and crank up the bass a bit, there is this steady, underlying beat. Kind of hard to hear in this YouTube version, but listen anyway in honor of Superkid and all the other kids out there who are singing--and dancing--in their own rainstorms.