Baby Mine

When I was a child, I discovered my baby book – a scrapbook that was sent home with my mother from the hospital, titled The Book of Baby Mine. Being a word nerd from a young age, I was struck by that grammar – “baby mine” – it felt incorrect to me. It should be “my baby” or “the baby of mine,” I thought. (I hadn’t encountered the song by the same name from Dumbo yet, which might be where that title came from.)

Now, years later, being a parent whose first baby recently moved out of the nest – “baby mine” makes a whole lot more sense that has nothing to do with grammar.

You were so sweet you were so bright
You were so deer in my headlights
I helped you out, gathered you in
Held you gently against my skin

Baby mine I love you all the time
Baby mine you’re always in my mind

You are my joy born from pain
You’re the deep happiness I named
You are the laughter kissing my tears
My life restarted when you got here

Baby mine I love you all the time
Baby mine you’re always in my mind

Sleep well darling wherever you are
And know I’m close, though it feels far
I’ll sing for you all night long
These are the words, this is the song:

Baby mine I love you all the time
Baby mine you’re always in my mind

Hopeful Face of the Human Kind

Through my childhood and teenage years, my family moved around a lot. While our home address changed often, our favorite vacation place was the ocean, and we went there many times, up and down the Atlantic seaboard. One year when my brother and I were teenagers, my dad wrote a poem inspired by watching us run ahead of him, away from him, along the beach, where our smaller selves used to cling to his hand and struggle to keep up.

Now I’m the parent, and this is the last summer before my oldest moves out of my house and into a college dorm room (two weeks from today!). It’s been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster for all of us, and in one of the more angsty moments recently, she said to me, “my life is falling apart!” Which is a hard truth about growing up – the life you know is shrinking, fading, becoming the life you knew – to make way for the bigger life you are stepping into.

This is a song for Luthien, with footage from a video Nathan took of our kids enjoying the Ocean City, New Jersey surf on our vacation this summer. To quote the boardwalk souvenir shop we browsed later that day, “happiness comes in waves!”

You got a lot of something, I hope you take it with you
But bring it on back here sometimes, I’m gonna miss you child
Life as you know it’s falling apart without a doubt but
What you don’t know is out there for you to go and find

You were born for this
You were made for these times
You’re the hopeful face
Of the human kind

You gotta look ahead now, don’t worry I’m behind you
Loving you like I always have and always will
Life is the thing you make it so make the thing you want to
Take the scenic route, blaze a happy trail

You were born for this
You were made for these times
You’re the hopeful face
Of the human kind

You were born for this
You were made for these times
You’re the hopeful face
Of the human kind

Sweet Dynamite

In our house, a very favorite story is when my firstborn was young and one of us parents chided her for taking too much of something.

“But I like too much!” she shot back.

Yes she did. Luthien before adolescence was a whirlwind of a spirited child, my little stick of dynamite (I wrote about it on this very blog!). Now she’s just about finished with high school and that little pixie is history. She asked me the other day if I miss that kid, and I could honestly say no, I dearly loved that child and I deeply love the young adult she is now too.

This song and picture show is just a little lingering over a colorful past that I’m so grateful to have enjoyed – and gotten through!

Somebody said the sky’s the limit
So you had to go and get stuck in it
That’s my baby, that’s my child
Tangled in blankets of thunder clouds

Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet dynamite

And wouldn’t you know you’d find a way
To break the surly bonds and play
There’s something in the air up there
Makes you shake like you just don’t care

Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet dynamite
I love you I love you I love you forever

Where would you be if not for me?
You’re very welcome, I’m so sorry
Oh my baby, oh my child
You make me crazy, you make me proud

Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet dynamite

You throw yourself down on the kitchen floor
Cause I gave you candy but you still want more
Nothing feels like it’s enough
When you’re loaded with a heart that loves too much

Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet dynamite

I love you I love you I love you forever

Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet dynamite

February Lullaby

The chords and melody are central to this song. I considered making it instrumental only. The only lyrics I could imagine working would be something antiquated, as if the song itself is old, because that’s how it felt to me as I was writing it. But then I came up with these lyrics, and their simplicity grew on me. It felt like maybe this is what something I know as antiquated might have felt like when it was first sung.

“No windows” was the prompt for this week 6 of #songaweek2022. I didn’t use it but I did record it in my windowless basement studio. With my little studio buddy at my feet (watch till the end to get a glimpse!).

It’s going to be alright, it’s going to be okay
It’s been a restless night but now it’s almost day
Go back to sleep a while, you’re going to make it through
You are my own dear child and I will sing to you

It’s going to be okay, it’s going to be alright
It’s been a long hard day but gently comes the night
Soon you will sleep a while, you’re going to make it through
You are my own dear child and I will sing to you

Remember December

For funsies.

Hey Mr. Snowman, welcome aboard
You’ve joined a wonderful world
But I gotta warn you, there’s things you don’t know
Because your brain is made of snow

Remember December is not the only kind of month
With its crystalline cold
There’s others coming that you won’t like so much

Your small creator is fickle and young
And prone to temper tantrums
So man you’d better make every moment
count for something before you go

Remember December is not the only kind of month
With its crystalline cold
There’s others coming that you won’t like so much

Sweet little birds will peck out your eyes
Don’t take it personally
We’ve all got problems in our lives
As I am sure you’ll come to see

Beware of dogs and thirteen-year-olds
They’re unpredictable dolts
They might befoul you or decapitate
But they can’t take your luminous soul

Remember December is not the only kind of month
With its crystalline cold
There’s others coming that you won’t like so much