“Twinkle” to Top 40: A Music Revolution

“I’m going to the basement,” my just turned 4-year-old daughter declared.

“Sure,” I said while trying to de-clutter the kitchen.

A few minutes later I heard loud music coming from the karaoke machine and a little voice belt into the microphone:


I froze.

And proceeded to hear my tiny child sing the song “Domino” – (by Jesse J, if you’ve never had the pleasure) complete with lyrics:

Dancing in the moonlight… Take me down like I’m a Domino… Oh baby baby got me feelin’ so right…

The karaoke machine that started it all

The karaoke machine that started it all

I felt sure that a 4-year-old proclaiming her sexiness into a microphone cranked on high would bring protective services to my door in a matter of minutes.   So I went charging downstairs.  And turned the music off.

“I’m singing,” my child protested.

“I know,” I said.  “That’s the problem.”

This is the third child who cannot remember to put away the pile of naked Barbies strewn around her room, but yet has a mind like a steel trap when it comes to lyrics.  She can perform “Moves Like Jagger,” “Dynamite” and “Single Ladies”.  Not to mention multiple Lady Gaga tunes and “Home” by Phillip Phillips.

It’s my fault, I know I know I know.   Reason #324 why I will not receive the ‘Mother of the Year’ award.

She listens to music with her older sister.  A little Taylor Swift here, a little Katy Perry there.  I thought it was pretty harmless.  But after eight years of listening to nursery rhymes, toddler tunes and the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack, we’re finally listening to the radio when we’re all together in the van (I now know too  much about Radio Disney).  While I have a 9-year-old and a 7-year-old, I seem to have forgotten I still have a 4-year-old sitting in the back. With a really good memory.

As tried to figure out just when I lost all control of the proper upbringing of my child, I had flashbacks of my own history with risqué tunes at a young age.  I could sing Rod Stewart  (If you want my body and you think I’m sexy..) “Centerfold” by J. Geils Band was in my 45’s collection.   Who let me listen to that??

My mother.  Aha!  The same mother who let me  sing “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover” by Paul Simon from the back of our station wagon.  She also let me listen to the soundtrack of “Jesus Christ Superstar” and a lot of Neil Diamond.  So perhaps it all balanced out.

I vowed to find better song selections to prevent my sweet child from turning in Honey Boo Boo’s best friend.   Perhaps some 80’s easy listening.  So on our way to Target (I’m always going to Target) I flipped the stations.  She heard a snippet of one song.

“Go back!”  she yelled.  “I like this one!”


Maybe Beauty and the Beast wouldn’t be so bad for a little while longer.

All Barbies End Up Naked

She’s a veterinarian, an astronaut, ballet dancer, princess and a bride.  But sooner or later, Barbie just ends up naked.

My 7-year-old Caroline has a gazillion Barbies and princess dolls.  They all have quite the

Everyone is dressed. For now.

wardrobe.  Frilly party dresses, bedazzled gowns, high heels to match – Barbie’s outfits are better than mine.  Really.  And I’m not bitter about that. At all.

But for some reason, every time I go into my daughter’s room to clean it up, it seems like I’m interrupting a Barbie nudist party.  Or MTV’s spring break.

Half the Barbies have swapped clothes, so Disney princesses look like they’re clubbing, and Skipper is dressed as Cinderella.  The Barbie Dream House is rockin’ with a couple of dolls watching the flat screen on the second floor, one fixing wedding cake in the kitchen on the ground floor and two others hanging in the hot tub on the roof.

And half of them are naked.  Today I was straightening up and found a naked torso.  No head.  Like something out of “Dexter”. Sorta freaked me out. Is it laziness? Curiosity? Lack of proper outfits?

Call Dexter Morgan

My husband said he walked in to my daughter’s room one afternoon and witnessed a Barbie line up with about ten dolls sitting on the floor. Naked. Our daughter’s explanation?

“They’re swimming.”

My husband turned around and walked out.

Is it too hard to make sure everyone is dressed? It seems sad that they’re strewn about, with that big ol’ smile and no clothes on.  Or maybe as adults we’re just obsessed with covering up. Maybe we need to be ok with bare Barbie.  Maybe naked Barbie is a metaphor for young kids not wanting to put a label on themselves, but just wanting to be free to be whatever they want to be.


I went to a child rearing expert (my mother) for her opinion.  She reminded me of many times she yelled at my sisters and I to “Clean up those Barbies and for God’s sake put some clothes on them!!” I guess it runs in the family.

I asked my daughter why sometimes there are naked dolls  hanging around.  She said simply, “I just didn’t finish changing them.  You called me to do my homework.”

Phew.  That’s it.

"Real World: Troy, MI"

Maybe it’s the dolls themselves. I’ll have to keep my eye on them – to make sure the Dream House, doesn’t turn into the “Real World” set.