May there always be sunshine: The Russian "Twinkle"

The title says it all: optimism, hope for the future, and gratitude rolled into one line. 
The rest of the words of this lullaby are just as simple and profound:

May there always be sunshine
May there always be blue skies                           

May there always be mama
May there always be me

Is this an ancient folk song? Or something penned by one of the world's great poets?
No, these perfect lines were written in 1928 by four-year-old Kostya Barranikov. As Pete Seeger tells the story, Kostya drew a picture of a big sun and blue skies, and two stick figured, and this was his interpretation of the drawing. 

In 1962 it was turned into a more complete song and won first prize at an international song festival. It immediately became a hit song throughout the USSR and the rest of the world. 

It transcended politics, and was sung by young Soviets at their training camps, schools, and even in pre-schools. It became known as a song of peace, and is one of the few songs of the Soviet era to have remained popular to this day. 

In fact, Today "May There Always" is the "Twinkle Tinkle" of Russia and many other countries, and like our "Twinkle" it's one of the first songs that children learn. Musically it's ideal for this: the melody is almost all in step wise motion so it's very easy to learn and remember--the basis of a universal classic lullaby. 

Over the years, new lyrics were added and this is how I learned and recorded it:

Click here to listen to the whole song

May there always be flowers
May there always be green grass
May there always be papa
May there always be me

May there always be friendship
May there always be peace
May there always be love
May there always be me

And may you always have sweet dreams!

- Jane 

Princess For a Day

It was obviously the In Place for all princesses. Katie Holmes knew it and was there. So my forever-friend Ina and I, who had dressed up like princesses and danced in her basement long ago, took our grown-up daughters and pretended they were six again, like Suri.

The Sleeping Beauty is a timeless story and Tchaikovsky’s gorgeous music has made it into one of the world’s most beloved ballets, and the New York City Ballet created a magical world of dance and fairy tale. Every one of the thousands of little and big girls in the audience felt like they were dancing too, dreaming of a prince and falling into a hundred-year sleep right along with the beautiful Princess Aurora. The whole place, main floor and all five tiers of balconies, helped the dancers by humming along to the famous waltz---even those who didn’t know that they knew the melody hummed along.

This is Sophia, who dressed for the occasion and was the object of much admiration from young to old. She watched the two hours of dancing and music mesmerized, and she will never forget the experience.

Why spend hard-earned money on something like a ballet, even in the fifth tier balcony? Because, as Sophia’s mother knew, an experience like that becomes part of who we are. The more music, dance, art, and theater we expose our children to, the more they will integrate that world of high-quality imagination and creativity.  I remember clearly the first chamber music concert my parents took me to, dressed up and fidgeting until the flutist appeared.  Pure magic came out of a little silver tube! I begged for lessons and even long after I stopped playing I kept the instrument just because I loved it.

There is a Cycle of Appreciation: if you have some musical experience you can appreciate performances more, and when you see live performances you are inspired more to enjoy or even create it yourself. I think the same thing must happen with sports---by going to high-school basketball games with my son, my four year old granddaughter has an impressive understanding of the game. I firmly believe that she will be the first ballerina princess (tutu and all) to play center on her high school team.


Jane

www.ladylullaby.com

Hunting for Mother Goose

Old Mother Goose when she wanted to wander

Would ride through the air on a very fine gander.

Jack’s mother came in and caught the goose soon,

And mounting its back flew up to the moon.

Mother Goose was hatched in France in the early 17^th century, with the first book with that name appearing in 1695.  At that point it was more like fairy tales than poems, but soon a book of nursery rhymes called Mother Goose’s Melody was published in England. Ever since then Mother Goose has been associated with children’s literature.

But where has Mother Goose flown to? A study conducted by Bridgewater State College in Massachusetts found that kindergartners barely recognize the classic collection of rhymes. It’s just not being used in schools or home the way it was in past years.

Why do these old-fashioned poems matter, anyway?  According to Gari Stein, author of “The More We Get Together: Nurturing Relationships Through Music, Play, Books, and Art, ”and the Bridgewater researcher Mary E. Shorey, it does matter. For centuries now Mother Goose has been a first introduction to literature, poetry, rhyme, vocabulary, humor, and nonsense---and a literary heritage that Shorey says “links generations together.” She also found that “one of the best indicators of how well children will learn to read is their ability to recite nursery rhymes when they walk in the kindergarten!”

So what are kids learning at home instead of Mother Goose? You guessed it: songs from the big children’s TV shows. Now, I like Dora and Diego as much as anyone---I’m learning Spanish from them, and enjoy all sorts of new adventures.  The songs may be catchy--but will they survive four hundred years from now, as Humpty Dumpty has done despite his problem with balance?

So dig up your Mother Goose book from your childhood, get a copy from the library, look online for the individual poems, and enjoy sharing it with your own children. There is long-standing proof that they’ll love it.

Sweet Dreams,
Jane

p.s. If we need to accept technology, though, the Mother Goose Club does a great job of making these poems fun enough to compete with Dora:  Here’s a new version of Little Miss Muffet:   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k0PWt9An1Ro

The Lullaby Angel

It was the first time in years I’d actually made it to bed before 10 p.m.  It’s always a goal, but somehow it doesn’t happen. Now, however, there was strong motivation: my toddler grandson who sometimes sleeps all night and sometimes doesn’t. You don’t fool around at these times—it’s a matter of survival.

Sure enough, after a few hours of sleep, I heard the battle cry: “Bubbie, Bubbie!”  While it was, thrillingly, recognition of the bond that we had formed---he remembered to call for me instead of his out-of-town parents---I resolved to not give in. It took eight minutes for this resolve to crumble. I went in and picked him up.

We sat in the big chair in his room and I rocked and hummed a lullaby. He settled down and I slowly moved to put him back in the crib. No way. Another lullaby, more settling, another move, more refusal. After a few rounds of this I lovingly but firmly put him back in his crib to scream it out. I admitted defeat, and questioning my right to the title of Lady Lullaby, I slunk out of the room.

Just then a 23-year-old angel appeared. Her name was Veronica, and we’d signed her on just in case this happened for four nights in a row. Young parents do this many nights in a row---I did too, once upon a time---but now this grandmother becomes a useless zombie after not sleeping for a couple nights. To save us all from that fate, the angel offered to take over.

I heard soft singing and the screams gradually turned to whimpers. As I started to relax and fully appreciate being horizontal, the singing continued and the whimpering grew quieter. Songs flowed on and on, one after another, until finally there was real quiet.

In the morning I hugged the angel and asked what she was singing all that time. She didn’t remember any lullabies, she said, so she just went through all the songs she knew: from high school and college musicals she’d been part of; the hit songs of her teen-age years; church hymns and fight songs; and finally all the music from “Les Mis,” sung lullaby style.

The words didn’t matter and the tunes didn’t matter---it was the sweetness, the joy of singing, the loving feelings, and the youthful endurance that came through. This is what the lullaby instinct is all about---this is the heart of lulling a baby to sleep.

And tonight, back in my own bed, I wish his parents---and all parents---patience, endurance, and a memory full of songs of all kinds.

Sweet dreams to young and old,

Jane

Tamales For St. Peter

As my four-year-old granddaughter and I were excitedly waiting for her very first ballet class at the YMCA to begin--purple leotard, pink tights in place---a young man was leaving the room after working out. He asked about the class, and then pulled out his cell phone to show me a picture of his beautiful six-month old daughter. “She’ll be dancing soon too,” he said proudly.

Because it’s what I do, I asked if he sings lullabies to his daughter.

“Oh yes,” he said, “I sing her lullabies in Spanish---the songs my mother sang to me when I was a baby in Mexico.”

“Perfect!” I replied. And it is. This is a wonderful and important gift to a child, passing along the songs of the previous generations.

Spotlight on Music agrees: “Apart from their obvious entertainment value, children's songs and games are often important vehicles for cultures to transmit important knowledge to next generation. Song lyrics or game actions might provide models for cultural customs or family and other social relationships.”

And like my new friend, families migrate, and the culture and the music of the new place will have an influence on the music that the immigrant brings to his new home. This is the nature of our global societies, and it will create new and exciting forms of music.

Similarly, music travels even when people don’t. In Mexico, for instance, because of the cultural influence of the United States, translations of children's songs from English to Spanish have become a part of the children’s music. Songs like "Itzi, bitzi arena" ("The Itsy, Bitsy Spider") and "Estrellita" ("Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star") are as popular in that Mexico as they are in the US.

Our job, in the midst of all this blending of cultures, is to also keep our cultural traditions strong by preserving the integrity of the precious songs that should be passed along to future generations. If you sing the songs that you heard as a child, your child will too.

There are hundreds of beautiful Mexican lullabies, but one of my favorites is “Arriba Del Ciela” (Above Heaven)

This lullaby has many elements. It tells a story about St. Peter wanting tamales, has some nonsense lullaby syllables to hush the baby to sleep, and then it gets to the bottom line:  “Go to sleep because I have chores to do!” Like in many lullabies, the sublime, the humorous, and the practical meet, as the mother gets a chance to dream, be playful, and then comes back to reality. In this version, though, we also have the child afraid that the parents will sell her/him to buy money for food---perhaps this is a common childhood fear, or perhaps it’s a sad nod to a world where such things really happen.

Here is a beautiful video of Claudia Martinez singing “Arriba Del Cielo”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=IdBEFtv5M_c

Above heaven they make tamales
Above heaven they make tamales
San Pedro heard about that and he ordered to bring the real ones
San Pedro heard about that and he ordered to bring the real ones
To the rorrun baby to the rorrun now
To the rorrun baby to the rorrun now
sleep lovely baby boy
sleep lovely baby boy
sleep lovely baby boy because I have things to do
sleep lovely baby boy because I have things to do
to whash your cloth diapers and go to sew
to whash your cloth diapers and go to sew
To the rorrun baby to the rorrun now
To the rorrun baby to the rorrun now
sleep lovely baby boy
sleep lovely baby boy
My dad and mom want to sell me
My dad and mom want to sell me
in exchange for chile and tomatoes that they want to eat
in exchange for chile and tomatoes that they want to eat
To the rorrun baby to the rorrun now
To the rorrun baby to the rorrun now
sleep lovely baby boy
sleep lovely baby boy

Arriba del cielo hicieron tamales
Arriba del cielo hicieron tamales
Lo supo San Pedro y mandó a traer los reales
Lo supo San Pedro y mandó a traer los reales
A la rorrun niño a la rorron cha
A la rorrun niño a la rorron cha
Duermete niñito de mi corazón
Duermete niñito de mi corazón
Duermete niñito que tengo que hacer
Duermete niñito que tengo que hacer
Lavar tus pañales, y ponerme a coser
Lavar tus pañales, y ponerme a coser
A la rorrun niño a la rorron cha
A la rorrun niño a la rorron cha
Duermete niñito de mi corazón
Duermete niñito de mi corazón
Mi papa y mi mama me quieren vender
Mi papa y mi mama me quieren vender
Por chile y tomates que quieren comer
Por chile y tomates que quieren comer
A la rorron niño a la rorron ya
A la rorron niño a la rorron ya
Duermete niñito de mi corazón
Duermete niñito de mi corazón

Sweet Dreams,

Jane

Siblings: Remember It’s a Win-Win

 "I don’t understand how people learn to live in the world if they haven’t had siblings. . . . Everything I learned about negotiation, territoriality, coexistence, dislike, inbred differences and love came from (them).” Anna Quindlan (Siblings)

It’s a whole different thing than my last visit a couple months ago, I realize, as I watch my grandchildren jog the loop around from living room through hallway over and over. The almost-two-year-old boy can now run, and that makes all the difference. The four-year-old girl is like his puppet master---she slows down, he slows down; she goes faster, he tries to keep up and hardly notices when he falls down in the attempt.

She catches him and tumbles him to the ground and he laughs with delight—until it’s suddenly too rough and the laugh turns to tears. Game over. As the substitute referee, it’s a tough call, figuring out if each tackle is within the bounds of the game or not. Pro football doesn’t have to take into account the psychology of sibling relationship issues.

(Flashback: I clearly see my son--the present-day dad--as a four year old, casually sticking out his foot to trip his toddler sister as she devotedly followed his every move. She had no idea what happened, and just picked herself up and kept on following--it was worth it just to be with him.)

Dr. James M. Herzog suggests that enhanced learning from an older sibling can begin as early as 15 to 18 months, which is the time the younger child’s motor skills allow him to imitate the physical accomplishments of an older sibling.

I notice especially the musical tutoring that’s going on daily. The older one says something in a certain tone and pitch, and he imitates it exactly (without real words, which makes it truly comical). She comes home from pre-school with a new song and he sings along, not knowing the song at all, and imitates her hand motions, just for the sheer joy of doing what she’s doing.

As the little one’s skills are growing day by day, his big sister is his best teacher. After all, she is a magical creature to him---someone much closer to his size than grown-ups but still worlds ahead in knowing how the world works. At the same time her confidence in her knowledge grows with his adoration, and all in all, it’s a win-win for them both.

And for this subjective/objective observer it’s a win-win too. I hope you too can stop once in a while, in the midst of all the little and big sibling rivalry issues, take the long view, and recognize it as a win-win too!

“You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them.” - Desmond Tutu

Sweet Dreams,

Jane

Next Time Round The Sun

Another year is gone, time will not be captured

Even when we try so hard to hold on to the past

No repeats allowed of regrets or rapture

The moment comes, the moment goes

It happens all so fast

As the planet spins around again

As dreams are lost and found again

We take a look at where we’ve been

And where we want to be

When all is said and done

Next time round the sun

As I thought of what I’d done right this past year and what I’d done wrong, lots of big and little regrets and raptures came into my mind, and I knew that there wasn't a darn thing I could do about either one. I wish I’d tipped that great cab driver better last week. I was glad I’d chosen to make the too-long trip to spend the holidays with my kids and grandchildren. I wish I’d taken the time to write more music in the past year. I was glad that I dared to perform for the first time in a long time, even though I regretted not practicing more for it. Will this be the constant theme of life?

 As parents and grandparents, we’ll always make mistakes, little and big, that we wish we could take back.  And we’ll do things that we’re proud of having done, seeing the results shining in the eyes of the children, and wish that moment could last longer. We can’t take back the mistakes, we just have to try to not do that exact one again. And appreciate those good moments as much as we can.

No repeats allowed, of either regrets or rapture.

There is only one thing that we can do to help minimize the mistakes and maximize appreciation of the good times---staying balanced and rested as possible. When we’re rested we can think more clearly and make those snap decisions with better brain power, calculation, and intuition. Research shows that calming music at bedtime can help both you and your kids fall asleep faster and sleep better.

Staying rested isn’t easy, with so much to do in our fast-paced world, but it’s a goal. That’s my Big Goal for this New Year, because then I know that all the little goals will have more of a chance of being fulfilled.

Happy New Year to all!

Sweet Dreams,

Jane

On vacation with my daughter, we sat by the beach for one whole gloriously sunny day and watched the ocean waves rolling in with endless energy. They just kept coming and coming and coming. Hour after hour, day after day, year after year. Sometimes calm and sometimes wild and dangerous. They had no choice about it—it’s what they have to do, being tied to the irrefutable forces of nature.

The song of the river is a song of devotion

It doesn't know why, but it travels till it reaches the ocean floor

It’s song fulfilled in the ocean’s roar