C is for Caroline. . and Contrapuntal

Quick Caroline story -- then I'm off to watch American Idol. (I know. . . I can't believe I'm hooked on it, either)

Tonight, while attempting to sing a song with her before bed. (key word: attempting) I asked her what she wanted to sing. She gave me the first (obvious) answer: "If you're happy and you know it" which I vetoed. Not only does the song wear on me. . . I was holding her at the time, and "stomp your feet" takes on a whole new meaning when you're holding the child.

So, she said, "Jesus." Which, if I'm honest, could have been about anything. I immediately thought "Away in a Manger." But, she told me an emphatic "NO" to that classic.

Then she mentioned shoulders, sleeves, and arms. I am still in the dark.

So, I decided to railroad her into my favorite song that we normally sing together (key word: normally) "You are my Sunshine" I cannot tell you how many times I sang that to her when she was a baby. I also sang, "So Happy Together" by the Turtles. I sang that one a LOT.

There for a while, when she was 4 weeks old, I thought it was her favorite. I'm not sure if she was really that into it. But, it seemed to help her sleep.

Sorry, slight digression there.

So tonight, after I decided on "Sunshine" I launched into it. I realized I was singing solo (at first) but figured she'd come in eventually. She did. But, for the life of me, I have no earthly idea what the child was singing.

Now, you have to know that I'm one of those "one track musically minded" kinds of people. It's so bad that -- and this could be hampering my "career" -- I cannot play the piano and talk at the same time. If I do, I wind up talking to the rhythm of the song I'm playing. . . or I get hung on a chord until I finish speaking a phrase (which is awkward) and then go back to playing.

Lots of worship leaders can do this. I guess I never learned. Of course, back in the day I was training to be a music teacher -- and with elementary students, you end up singing directions to them as you play them -- it's especially effective when you can pull their names into the sing-song directions and embarrass the crap out of them.

But again, I have digressed. And at some point, this was supposed to be a brief post. Oh well. . . if you've made it this far, hang on for just a few more minutes (for you with average reading speeds). I'm quite nearly done.

I kept singing, "You are my Sunshine. . . " and she kept singing her song. I looked to see if Mark was paying attention to our "duet" and he was. And, when we finished (ironically together) neither one of us could fathom what she'd been singing. But, it was hilarious nonetheless.

It's been a day of hilarity, actually.

Our public school system, in its infinite wisdom, decided to call school off today because of bad weather. They were legitimately getting snow in the higher elevations. But, they didn't call school off until 7:15 this morning -- when 89% of the kids were either at school, waiting for their bus, or in the SUV with mom or dad.

We had opted for Caroline to stay home one more day -- so we'd already let her bus driver know not to come to the house. And, at that time, school was still on. But, about 20 minutes after we called, I heard the "big bus" (regular size) turning around in our cul de sac -- and that bus had already run through the subdivision an hour earlier.

That's right. They turned the buses around, and had them take the kids back.

Amazing.

So, we've been home. . . but would've been home anyway. And if I'm honest -- I know I love my daughter, and that my daughter loves me -- but I think she was getting bored. This child has gotten into more mischief the last two days than I can remember her getting into for the last three months. (No, I am not kidding or exaggerating)

And did I fail to mention? Next week is Spring Break.

Yeah. By this time next week, I'll be singing my own contrapuntal parts when I'm singing by myself!

And she's suffering, too. As I type, I can hear her crying from her room. Her routine. . .her schedule. . . her world . . .has been turned upside-down by being sick and staying home for the past six or seven days.

Routine plays a major part in the lives of children with Down syndrome. I learn that by living every day with Caroline. I hear that truth echoed in hearing stories about Anthony, Jenni, and Sloan.

Routine is good.
Harmony is good.
Contrapuntal harmony?


That takes getting used to.