The Grandmother Effect

Here I am in the Detroit airport, delayed. Apparently the crew forgot to show up. What are these people thinking? Don’t they know that I have a grandson being born any minute now?? He’s already nine pounds and, the doctor said, and he has big shoulders like his father and grandfather, so I figure he’s ready to come but is just waiting for his grandmothers to get there to greet him.

Baby Pitt and his mother Aviva

Grandmothering is the subject of some flashy new studies that show that it’s good for all generations to have grandmothers around. Did we need a study to know that? Other cultures know this, and fully respect grandparents, realizing that there is a specific purpose for the generations being together: the elders get to share their life experience and wisdom with the little ones, parents get some much-needed help with childcare, and the babies learn that the world is full of big people who know for a fact how miraculous they are.

I used to listen to my friends talking—no, glowing—about becoming grandparents. I have to admit I didn’t get it. I loved seeing babies and could smile silly smiles and coo with the best of them, but I didn’t really understand what they were talking about.

I had to experience for myself the feelings that came up when I witnessed my own DNA in the form of a small, blanketed bundle. And while changing a really messy diaper and eye contact was first made (okay, sign me up for diaper duty). And the first time there was a genuine smile meant just for me.

Something happens in the heart—literally. When I’m with my granddaughter I feel my heart glow and grow in some subtle way that I hadn’t felt since holding my own new babies. I don’t know if there are studies for that, but I know it’s real. New parents, ask your own parents if that isn’t their experience too—I bet it is if they stop to feel it.

And so, Delta Airlines, I really have to be there when he comes. I’ll let you all know if I make it in time!

Sing with Love and Caution

Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop
When the wind blows the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
And down will come baby, cradle and all

Do you find yourself mumbling the words to “Rock-a-Bye Baby” when you sing it to your child? I did, afraid that somehow that image would scar my children for life. Maybe they wouldn’t climb trees. Maybe they would be scared of the wind. Maybe they wouldn’t feel that the world wasn’t a safe place, if Mom would hang them from a branch that was likely to break off.

What kind of parent would make up a song like that anyway?

There are several stories about the origin of the lullaby. One says that it was the first poem written by English on American soil, who observed the American Indian tradition of suspending a birch bark cradle in the branches of a tree. While the mother was working, the wind would rock the cradle and the baby would go to sleep. This practical solution for a working mother makes sense to me even if the story isn’t really true.

Another story is more colorful—there was a family in England in the 1700’s who actually lived in a tree, and so they had the right to hang whatever they wanted from it. The tree in this story is a huge, ancient Yew tree, and the family who lived there were charcoal burners named Kate and Luke Kenyon. They had eight children and hollowed out a large tree branch to use as a cradle. OK, maybe. Eight children forces you to be resourceful.

A third theory is the most dramatic of all: that the 17th century tyrant King James, in desperate need of an heir, had a baby boy smuggled into the birthing room. When the story got out it led to his downfall. The “wind” could be the political force “blowing” in from the Netherlands in the form of William of Orange, who kicked James out. The “cradle” is the royal House of Stuart. The earliest recorded version of the words in print come with a footnote: “This may serve as a warning to the Proud and Ambitious, who climb so high that they generally fall at last.”

In any case, I would advise you to either hug your baby very tight when singing this song, or change the words, as my daughter-in-law did:

“And Mommy will catch you, cradle and all!”

Sweet dreams,
Jane


The Marx Brothers had a great version of this song:

Thanks, Amy!

This week I just want to give sincere thanks from Lady Lullaby to the Lullaby Lady. Confused? Don’t be---there is room in this world for all kinds of lullaby fanatics.

Amy Robbins-Wilson has a wonderful website (http://www.lullaby-link.com/index.html) that focuses on lullabies also. She shares my belief that “musical interaction between family and their babies is important to a child’s development" and she points to the fact that "all cultures sing to their infants...” Amy has graduate degrees in Ritual Song and Chant Performance, and also in Expressive Arts Therapy, so she really knows her stuff.

I was very grateful that Amy gave my CD “Midnight Lullaby” a glowing review, and am so moved by her generosity in recommending my music on her blog that I want to share her comments with you and suggest that you check out what she has to offer in the way of beautiful bedtime songs and all sorts of useful advice.



Sweet dreams,
Jane

When Words Fail

If you want to sing a lullaby to your baby but forget the words---keep singing anyway!

Words tell a story, convey emotions, and make the meaning of a musical expression clear. The combination of words and music is a powerful human medium because it transmits the story of our lives to the next generations.

But we also know that we could sing the same words to various kinds of music and it can have an entirely different feel---play “Twinkle Twinkle” with a hip-hop beat and your baby will be wiggling instead of dozing.

With lullabies the most important aspect is the feeling that you’re trying to convey. That is the same feeling that parents two million years ago were conveying when they hummed to their babies, even before speech was developed. It’s the feeling of love. It’s the feeling of devotion and nurturing, of giving comfort and protection.

That feeling can be conveyed just as strongly through a melody with no words, and sometimes even more strongly, because the emotion comes through without the intellect being involved. Musician and research scientist Daniel Levitin says, “Neurobiology show that music--but not speech--activates areas of the human brain that are very ancient, structures that we have in common with all mammals . . .”

Nonsense words are rampant in lullabies—that’s where the word “lullaby” comes from! “La la la” and “loo loo loo,” “tula tula” and similar meaningless sounds are used in lullabies all over the world.

My friend Donovan Leitch suggested that I use his lullaby “La Moora” for my “Midnight Lullaby” album. When I asked him what the words “La la moora” mean, he laughed at me. “They don’t mean anything,” he said, “It’s what lullabies are made of.”

I was inspired to write about this when I recently heard a beautiful lullaby without words that expresses this feeling perfectly. It’s recorded by Al Pettaway, one of the best fingerstyle guitarists in the world, and Amy White, who has a truly celestial voice (www.alandamy.com). Here is their “Lullaby.”



So hum, croon, sing “lullaby” over and over, or anything that comes into your mind. Know that your baby will understand everything.

Sweet dreams,
Jane

One And One Are Two

Although I love lullabies and relaxing music, I admit that there are actually times when you don’t want your baby (or you) to go to sleep, and at those times soothing music may not be the best choice.

What music is good for waking times, music that entertains, enlivens, and will keep those brain cells connecting and growing?

There are lots of great programs for babies and young children that you could explore and enjoy together. Today, and in future posts, I’ll tell you about some that I know are excellent. And let us know what you have found: please make a comment to tell everyone about your favorite lively childrens’ music.

Last month I took my two-year-old granddaughter Annalise to a Kindermusik class for toddlers. We went back the next week, and the next week, and I delayed my flight home so I could take her one more time. It was that good.

Miss Yvette led the class through some simple songs and movements, all perfectly planned and timed for toddlers. I asked her to meet me for tea so I could learn more about how she thinks music affects very young children.

I knew that music is important for brain development, but she made the point that music actually creates the pathways in the brain that allow a child to understand mathematics in later years. For example, they learn to measure intervals, the distance between notes, just by singing them over and over, and so automatically learn how to measure.

So if, at a very young age, the basic elements of measurements have been learned through musical concepts---if a child’s neuropathways have already been created and strengthened---then those neuropathways become super highways, and the child finds that learning anything is easier.

Visit Yvette’s website for more info on this and other musical topics. Also check out Kindermusik for classes in your area—babies as young as six months through preschool years (and their parents!) can benefit from these wonderful musical activities.

So let’s get to counting: Inchworm was one of my favorite songs as a child (Danny Kaye’s version) and Anne Murray sang this beautiful song to my kids at bedtime.

Listen to "Inchworm":

How's By You?

While most of my blogs will be fact-based stories and advice about lullabies and music for babies, once in a while---like today---I’m going to share life stories with you, and will try to make a connection to the lullaby theme. This one is easy.

This week I would have celebrated my 40th wedding anniversary with my husband Barry. We were married on April 18, 1971, in a full-blown hippie wedding, with hand-made dress and matching embroidered shirt, cowboy boots and hundreds of daisies. We worked and traveled the world for five years, and then settled down to raise a family.

He knew only one lullaby to sing to our children, but did it with great patience and enthusiasm, and I highly recommend this one to all of you—an original and extremely free-form version of “Frere Jacque” that listed all the names of everyone the child knew:

“Jesse Pitt, Jesse Pitt, how’s by you? How’s by you?
How’s your mother Janie? How’s your father Barry? How’s by you? How’s by you?
Joanna Pitt, Joanna Pitt, how’s by you? How’s by you?
How’s your cousin Jeffrey? How’s your Auntie Ruthie? How’s by you? How’s by you?”

And on and on and on, sometimes for ten minutes, depending on how many people they could collectively think of, or how long it took any one of them to fall asleep.

Barry lost his battle with pancreatic cancer last May, and while I miss pretty much everything about our life together, probably the toughest part is realizing how much the grandchildren will miss out. And that silly song is part of it. I may try to make it through it sometime soon, because it’s such a perfect lullaby.

So on this particular day, if you have a person that you share your parenting or grand-parenting responsibilities and joys with, please give him/her a hug and say thanks. Teach him/her the “How’s By You?” song and cuddle up together with your baby and take your family history into the future.

Because I don’t have a recording of “How’s By You?” (I don’t know that the true spirit of it could be captured in a recording) I’ll share a beautiful song-made-into-lullaby by Linda Ronstadt—from her lullaby CD called “Dedicated To The One I Love” that is also appropriate right now.

Thank you for sharing this special day with me.

Listen to "Dedicated To The One I Love":

The Rhythm of Life

We tap our toes, we sway, and if we can let go of being self-conscious, we all do really want to dance when music comes on. Think of going to hear your favorite band---could you sit still in your seat even if you tried?

Watch a toddler when the music goes on---no one has to teach him to move in time, it’s completely natural. Watch your newborn baby carefully and you’ll actually see her responding to a beat.

It’s been found that a newborn is most easily quieted when rocked up and down at the same rate that the mother walks, the rhythm learned while still in the womb. When you were pregnant did you ever feel like your baby seemed to be kicking in time to the music that you were listening to? (Did it ever get too lively for you and you turned off the music?)

One researcher recently found that babies seem to be born with a predisposition to move rhythmically in response to music. And the babies definitely knew that something good was happening: “We also found that the better the children were able to synchronize their movements with the music, the more they smiled,” said Dr. Marcel Zentner from the University of York.

We were born to move, to sway, to dance. Besides singing or playing lullabies, pick your baby up and dance together. Try all different kinds of music---fast, slow, loud, soft. One of the most natural dance rhythms is a waltz: Grab your favorite partner and listen to my song “Dance Like The Wind.” Go ahead and sway together in the breeze and watch for the smiles!

Listen to "Dance Like The Wind":