daily insanity in questioning my ability to raise a child…

ah anal retentiveness. I have spent the morning looking up the lyrics to Summit’s musical song toys because it annoys me to hear the stupid melody over and over and not know the words to sing to it. He will bring his little keyboard that plays twangy favorites such as “Twinkle Twinkle” “Polly Wolly Doodle” and “Looby Loo” among other child friendly tunes and want me to sing along. There is only so much add libbing that I can do before I start to feel slightly insane and worried that my poor child will have no advantages in pre-school from his crazy mamma making up words to apparently commonly known tunes. He’ll be sitting there on his brightly colored carpet square belting out “fair thee well my fairy friend, cause he’s something from Anna from here to Montana singing Prolly Wobbly dooly wollie day” and the other kids will look at him like he’s an alien and he’ll get all defensive and say “that’s the right way because my mommy sings it that way!” then the ‘mom’ jokes will start, Summit will defend my honor and then get beat up and expelled from school for fighting and then end up a juvenile delinquent smoking meth or however you take meth- do you eat it? I don’t know and it will be all my fault for not teaching him the proper words to these nursery rhyme songs… the burden of motherhood is a heavy one.