Music rules my life now in a way it never did before.

Don’t get me wrong; I’ve always been a lover of music.  I spent years wishing I could sing because I desperately wanted to be able to be in school musicals and the like (is that middle school cliché, or what?) And as forlorn teenager, I had “My Heart Will Go On” on constant repeat just like the rest of the girls of my high school generation.

Then…I became a mom.

I didn’t expect that my child would be as musically inclined as he is.  I certainly don’t have much musical talent, despite the years of piano lessons insisted upon by my mother, and my stubborn insistence that I could sing when I clearly cannot.  Nevertheless, I produced a child who was practically born making music.

I remember when I was pregnant, just shortly before Little Man was born, the wife and I went to see Les Miserables, which was in theaters then.  During “Do You Hear the People Sing?” she turned to me, hand resting on my large belly, and said, “He’s having his own little revolution!”  I agreed; my insides were getting blasted to smithereens by our yet-to-be-born son as he marched along with Hugh Jackman and company.

That was just the beginning.

As soon as he could express himself, Little Man began asserting preferences for music.  At just seven or eight months, he was pulling himself up next to the stereo so he could bop along with the Indigo Girls (well, the kid DOES have two mommies, after all!)  Like every other kid between the ages of 1 and 10 (and perhaps even older) he’s fairly obsessed with the Frozen soundtrack. In fact, he now shouts an enthusiastic “Yes!” along with Princess Anna at the end of “Love Is An Open Door.”

Kid, your mom and I don’t care if you bring home a boy or girl to us one day, but we are vetoing Prince Hans right now.

Ahem.  Anyway, I suppose I was naïve to think that I had a bit more time before the soundtrack to my life was dictated by a toddler.  But Little Man now completely controls the stereo (even from his backward facing carseat) when he’s riding along with me.  Sorry, mom, no NPR for you…I need to listen to “Frozen Heart” 25 times between daycare and home, thankyouverymuch.

Sigh.  I suppose it could be worse.  At least he’s not making me listen to The Wiggles.