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Showing posts with label songs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label songs. Show all posts

Thursday, August 5, 2010

Great Green Globs!

     "Great green globs of greasy grimy gofer guts' - sounds disgusting, but it makes a great song if your little ones are getting fussy on a long walk and you still have half way to go. My two grandsons, two and almost one were entertained as we strollered them home up a hot humid hill which saved everyone from a meltdown. We were were all hot and sweaty so the bottle of water I poured over my head when I sang the line 'down came the rain' from the Itsy Bitsy Spider, was very effective for a good giggle, soaking me but cooling me off as well.The boys loved seeing me like that! And I'm sure the passersby will have a good story to tell tonight over supper. Anyway, if you don't mind beeing a little goofy once in a while, your kiddos will love it. A simple song can go a long way and it is a good idea to know at least a few of them especially when you get into a spot which requires your children to have a little extra dose of patience and you to keep the troops happy. Which is pretty much all the time when it comes to toddlers! Here's a line up of my old favorites: 
Sing or be sad!
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star
Itsy Bitsy Spider
Mr. Golden Sun
A You're Adorable, B You're so Beautiful
Take Me Out to the Ball Game
Great Green Globs
Patty Cake
     You may think it is silly, but kids love silly and we love happy faces!
Good Luck! Good Parenting!
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Son-in-law, Doug and Robert

Son-in-law, Doug and Robert
Reading, Writing, Arithmetic

Daughter-in-law, Mich,Steve,& Collin

Daughter-in-law, Mich,Steve,& Collin
Family Hike

Mom and Daughter Nat

Mom and Daughter Nat
Mom and Future Mom

Jillian and Sean w/ Molly

Jillian and Sean w/ Molly
Group Hug

Excerpt from Growing Up Crazy by Bonnie J.Toomey

Freeze Pops



Winter 1972







There’s ice on my bedroom window in little cornered crescents. It’s still dark out, but it is time to get up for school anyway which I happen to like a lot.



I wriggle out of my pajamas and pull on a hand me down sweater and jeans from my aunt who works as a nurse in Boston. She was always giving us bags of clothes which I would pull apart and alter to fit my style and size. This gave my wardrobe an eccentric and eclectic look all its own which I thought was quite individual and even artsy.



I hated to leave the warmth under the pile of blankets and old coats I had layered on for extra insulation at night. It could get pretty cold upstairs this time of year, and the transition from clothes to no clothes to clothes again was a little unpleasant in the wintertime. There’s never been heat up here, Dad didn’t put it in, but instead cut a hole in the floor the size of a wood stove chimney pipe to let whatever heat rise up from our wood stove down in the kitchen.



“Heat rises,” was how Dad explained it to us. I kept thinking, well maybe it does, but I sure can’t feel it up here.



It is colder than usual this morning. My fingers don’t work as quickly as I want them to. I head downstairs where mom and dad are hunkered under some blankets on the couch which they must have dragged in front of the fireplace during the night. They’re still sleeping. Dad’s head at one end of the couch and mom curled up at the other end.



I grab my bag and step outside into the ice cold morning and my nostrils form tiny icy needles on the first breath in sticking together like metallic glue. Luckily, the bus arrives in less than a minute but long enough to finish turning my toes in my sneakers into ten freeze pops.



I slide in next to Claire careful not to break off any digits.



“Vaugn, you look really cold,” she says, very concerned. The newscaster on the bus radio says that it’s five degrees this morning over central New England, and that it warmed up from the overnight low of zero.



I explain that I think our furnace broke again and she offers me her mittens with the fancy rabbit fur cuffs.



“Thanks, Claire,” I say, and between her offering and the noisy over head heater blowing puffs of warmth into the air, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.



Excerpt from Leaf Landing by Bonnie J. Toomey

French Lesson







French is not the easiest class to miss.



I missed almost two weeks straight



after Mom died



and a lot of other days before that



and now I am really behind.



Mom wanted me to take French



because she thought it would help



in ballet class.



Dad lost a couple of bids.



He says people are losing



their jobs,



the economy is bad



The TV keeps warning



unemployment is up,



gas prices are up



and people are fed up.



I don’t know why Dad



has to watch



it only makes him



yell at the TV



Dad says we need to conserve more than we have been



now the house feels cooler.



When I complain,



Dad says



to go outside and come back in ,



then I’ll feel warmer.



Harriet and I spend our time bundled in



an extra layer of clothes



or dragging an afghan around



like giant moths in cocoons.



We are out of butter again.



Dad says



to try using peanut butter.



Well, isn’t the word,



butter,



in it?



Harriett won’t eat her toast



and it just sits on the plate



getting cold



like the floors



in this house



and suddenly the one phrase



in French,



“It is cold.” comes back to me:



“Il fait froid,



la maison est fait froide."