Soundtrack

I was driving back from playschool with the Small Girl recently, and we were listening to songs on the radio (and if it sounds as if I spend my life driving about in the car, it sometimes feels as if I do - ferrying Small People about and running errands). During my numerous daily car journeys, often my only adult company is the radio.

And so it is that song lyrics often take on great significance, reminding me of a particular occasion, or merely providing an appropriate background commentary to my life. There's a certain Take That song, for instance, which seems written for the Very Small Boy: "Sometimes I see your face looking at me/ All your love and grace smiling at me..... I just want you to help me - 'cause you're keeping me up all night". His little gummy smile, with his single small tooth, does radiate love and grace and warm my heart. And he certainly does keep me up all night.

Every car journey I make is either undertaken at great speed (rushing the Very Small Hungry Boy home for a feed) or extremely slowly (hoping he will fall asleep before we reach our destination), thus infuriating other road users. This particular drive home was one of the slow ones; the Very Small Boy was on the verge of sleep and I was therefore in a good mood, and was singing happily along to "Just Dance".

"Mum?" The Small Girl asked from the back of the car.
"Yes, Sausage" I replied, jigging happily about in my seat to the music.
"I think you're too old to sing that song!"

I laughed, taken aback by her unnerving ability to expose my deepest insecurities. Because sadly, I fear she was almost certainly right; my dancing days are probably over. At least for now.

The song that remains the most poigniant however, is by The Killers, and was playing on the radio as DH drove me to the hospital the day the Very Small Boy was born. It was 6.00am on a cold, dark November morning and as we pulled out of the drive, I listened to the lyrics: "And so long to devotion/ You taught me everything I know/ Wave goodbye, wish me well/ You've gotta let me go...."

And I looked up at the Small Girl's bedroom window and thought of that little girl, fast asleep in her bed, unaware of just how much her life was about to change.