The Broccoli Song

If you’re tired of hearing me talk about vegetables….I apologize. The kids are occupied with some painters tape and the paper plates they finger-painted a few days ago, creating an “art museum” on the playroom walls, right now, and dinner is already prepped, so I have a few minutes to actually write, and what I’m thinking about is broccoli. Because the dinner I just finished the prep work for is called Lemon Broccoli Pasta Skillet, and it has a pound and a half of broccoli in it. And without fail, when I chop up broccoli, The Broccoli Song gets stuck in my head:

The Broccoli Song

Broccoli, broccoli
Broccoli, broccoli
I love broccoli
I love broccoli
Broccoli is yummy
Broccoli is healthy
Broccoli, broccoli
Broc-co-li

I made up this song when Miryam was a toddler. My intention was to indoctrinate her into liking broccoli long before she encountered cultural sources that would tell her she probably doesn’t like it.

It worked.

In the grocery checkout line earlier this week, the cashier commented, “That’s a lot of broccoli.” It was about 2 pounds worth.

I casually replied, “It’s my kids’ favorite vegetable….that and zucchini.”

“Really? That’s pretty unusual.”

“I started them young. Didn’t give them much of a choice.”

I don’t often think about it being unusual that my kids like broccoli. Roasted is their (and my) favorite way, but they’ll eat it in almost any cooked form. I don’t squeeze the lemon on the whole batch anymore, because Luke has professed a dislike for that garnish, but we pass the lemon squeezer around the table. The girls especially love the lemon.

Luke will ask for leftover broccoli as his entire lunch sometimes. A moment ago, upon seeing my mise en place arrangement on the counter, he asked me, “What noodles are you cooking?”

“Lemon Broccoli Noodles.”

“Oh, I wanted you to cook that!”

I know, buddy.

Even Cecily happily pronounces “brock-key!” when she sees it in the pan on the table. I do love witnessing toddlers learn to talk.

Lest you think I can croon about veggies for very long, I’m going to shift gears into other songs I’ve made up for everyday use in our family. We are a singing little fam. The kids especially love it when I dance, too. (Just kidding. They particularly don’t. I can’t understand why.)

The Toothbrushing Song

Brush brush brush, brush brush brush
Brush brush brush brush brush your teeth
Keep your pearly whites all white
Keep your teeth nice and clean
Brush your teeth twice a day
That is how they will stay
Fresh and clean, fresh and clean
Practicing our oral hygiene

I made this one up as a way to distract wiggly toddlers from how long it was taking me to brush all of their little teethies well. It took a few weeks of improvising to land on these finally-rhyming verses.

Justin also made up his own Toothbrushing Song. I can’t remember the exact words, but, while mine emphasized the positive outcomes of good oral hygiene, his focused on the negative consequences of bad oral hygiene. Threats of cavities, dentists and drills, needles for local anesthesia, that sort of thing. Moms and dads sometimes do things differently, y’all. In the end, though, the job gets done. My most-frequently-written Advice to New Moms (at baby showers and in other solicited contexts) is to “let dad do it his way; don’t micromanage him and ruin your moment to relax while he does it so you don’t have to.” Diaper changes, baths, burps, toothbrushing songs, etc. It’s really hard sometimes, but it’s really the best thing for both mom and dad.

The Rainbow Baby Song

You are my rainbow
You are my rainbow, baby girl
You are my rainbow
You are my rainbow, baby girl

It sounds so simple and almost unworthy of being called a song, when I type it out like that. I made that one up to harmonize with the noise machine in the dark and relative calm of the baby room, while nursing and rocking a small Cecily, my “rainbow” girl who redeemed my first two miscarriages, while hiding from the overwhelming chaos that was Life with Three Children Age Five and Under. I knew Luke was probably making a mess somewhere–a three-year-old who can reach and climb things just can’t help himself–but I needed a moment of Just Me and My Precious Baby every now and then. Justin might argue that I hid in the nursery and left the “big” kids unsupervised more than was advisable, but that was how I coped at the time. It was also right before I finally got myself an eye appointment and some needed-for-years-now glasses, so only needing to focus on a sweet little babe 12 inches from my eyes, and not The Whole House past my realm of Where I Could See Well, was physically more comfortable.

Side note: Make time for yourself, Mamas. Any appointment you need: make it and go. Note to self: find a chiropractor soon. #being30. Sigh.

And….now I can’t think of any more made-up songs. But here are a few that I didn’t write, but that I often sing, at appropriate times around here.

“Cheer Up, Charlie” from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, when someone is being a grumpy-pants. It usually makes said someone more grumpy, but if I offer to stop singing it if they cheer up, or at least act like they’ve cheered up, they often do.

George Frederick Handel’s “Hallelujah” chorus from Messiah, when I need them to open their mouths wide for, again, toothbrushing, or taking a bite of something they refuse to try unless I feed it to them, or looking at their throats when they may have strep or hand foot and mouth: “Open wide, say Ahhhhhhh-layyy-luuuuuuuu-yah!”

Everything from Sesame Street. It’s a cruel ploy they have. Once you know the songs–which doesn’t take long, because they sing the same ones in almost every episode–of course they are stuck in your head, and then you accidentally sing them out loud, and then your toddler shouts, “Mo-mo!” (“Elmo!”), and does her adorable squeezing her hands together and hunching her body slightly and grinning thing, which means, “Please can I, Mommy?” How can I resist?

Screen time: it’s a thing….in spite of my best intentions. One night, I informed the Children of Many Shenanigans that their third round of after-lights-out shenanigans had earned them a loss of any screen time on the following day. Guess what: they hushed up and went to sleep after such a drastic move on my part! Win! Um, false. About 4:00pm the next day, when I’d reached my limits for both Question Answering as well as Kids Clinging to My Legs for the day, and I needed to cook dinner, I regretted my hasty flinging of discipline from the night before. It was time to turn on a movie, and I couldn’t. I lamented to Justin, who suggested I just turn one on anyway, but I was determined to follow through on my threat to make my point, so I suffered through the evening. The kids weren’t even asking to watch anything, I just wanted to be able to turn on trusty old Cookie Monster and be left in peace for 20 minutes. Parenting in the 21st century is hard. Comedian and mom of six, Jen Fulwiler, gives a compelling, somewhat tongue-in-cheek, but also truthful if you think about it, one-minute take on this here.

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She also has an entire podcast episode elaborating on the subject. If you need to feel validated in not banning movies and shows from your home, check her out. Lucky for me, I have a fenced, level, mostly hazard-free backyard, so, more often than not, I am able to send my kids out to play for my little breaks from them. They usually spend the hour before dinner out in the yard. Sometimes that means they come inside soaking wet, because they air conditioner condensation drip falls directly onto the deck, and I just don’t care to spend my energy micromanaging their staying dry. I’m going to do laundry anyway. They can eat dinner in their pjs, or their undies, whatever.

Well, this post got off topic a bit, didn’t it? But hey, I wrote something! I have been up and down attending to kid needs, but Cecily took an unusually long nap today, and the big kids are now watching A Bug’s Life. I need to go get little Miss Opinionated from her crib, though, and maybe give them all a snack. But this was fun. Maybe I’ll write again before another month passes. The creative juices have not been a-flow lately. The unpredictability that is My Brain on Parenting: not always compatible with regular blogging. But I hope you’ve enjoyed today’s ramblings.

Tell me in the comments below: What’s a song you’ve made up for your kids, or a song you steal frequently to sing to them?

One last thing, since it took me till after dinner to get this post edited and published: during dinner, Cecily devoured her noodles and wanted more, but she hadn’t eaten the broccoli part yet. To entice her, Miryam suggested I sing The Broccoli Song. And that’s a wrap!