Tiny Thoughts: Children will listen
On what your Spotify round-up says about you, plus reads to escape into
Welcome to Tiny Thoughts. A new regular feature where I share exactly that – tiny thoughts, shorter-form musings, products I like, articles I’ve read etc. Let me know what you think.
As 2022 rounds to a close, I’ve started seeing people share their Spotify ‘year in review’ (or, #spotifywrapped, as the hashtag goes). It’s always a fascinating insight into other people’s listening habits, though mostly it reminds me that I am woefully out of touch with what is current, and that my music tastes could – if I put in some effort – extend beyond 1996. My Top Ten plays of previous years have always featured Radiohead, Pulp and other nineties legends, but since having children, my Spotify most-played has taken a strange turn. It’s not so much nursery rhymes, but it is guided by the tastes of my offspring. This year’s most-played song? ‘I’m Yours’ by Jason Mraz.
Mr Mraz is a very successful singer, I’m sure of that, but I can’t tell you much more about him. What I do know is, once upon a time, he sang a version of this song with Elmo on Sesame Street, and the tune wriggled into my three-year-old son’s ear and become a thing of joy. For 68 bedtimes in a row (according to Spotify data), I’ve played ‘I’m Yours’ to my son at his request, and sung along, too.
When this began, I had to subtly read the lyrics off my phone, holding it under the bed so my son wouldn’t see, but now I’m word-perfect – right down to the bra-bop-mms and the da-bap-bap-mm-days. I tend to muffle certain words and phrases, such as ‘damn’ and ‘God-forsaken’ to make it more toddler-friendly, but often ramp up my volume and eye contact with the lines:
“Look into your heart and you’ll find love, love, love… We’re just one big family.”
OK, yes, I did once have to have a weird chat with my son when he asked, “Why does he want to nibble your ear?” But for the most part, we’ve side-tracked any adult content and made it a song to help him feel safe and loved.
I’m yours, I sing again and again to my son each night. And I mean it. Sometimes, when he’s lying there, stubbornly trying to stay awake, his eyelids fluttering with fatigue, I keep singing until his breathing deepens, and his eyes submit to sleep. I stare into his sweet face, his divinely chubby cheeks, his hair, tousled, sticky-uppy, and I feel what must be love in its purest, most uncomplicated form charge through my body to such an extent that I could – and sometimes do – cry. The love is intense. Because while my son might not yet engage with some of the more metaphysical themes of the song, I do. Each night I sing, “Our time is short, this is our fate, I’m yours.” And it is the truth. I sing it each night not simply to hurry along sleep – though I do that too; by this point in the day I’m tired and hungry – but because it is an affirmation of my devotion to him. For as long as my son wants this song, I’ll sing it to him. It certainly beats ‘The Wheels On The Bus’.
Jason Mraz is not the only artist to make it into my year’s most-played list. But the other is not a singer, though he’s certainly a genius.
Last November, my youngest son was just 22 days old when it was announced that the composer and lyricist Stephen Sondheim had died. When I heard the news, I was stuck in bed, almost immobile with pain, struggling with a slow and complicated C-section recovery, and I was emotional too; caught in the hormonal maelstrom of newborn life, the sleeplessness, the anxiety, the smallness of this creature in my arms, the intoxicating smell and softness of his skin, his unknownness contrasted with a primal familiarity, as if he had always been there. It’s fair to say I was fragile – my emotions capable of reaching the highest notes, as well as the lowest.
Trapped in bed, a baby asleep on my chest, I found myself searching for anecdotes about Sondheim’s life and playing my favourite songs on repeat, mostly ‘Being Alive’ from Company. Then a friend posted online an old clip of Mandy Patinkin singing ‘Children Will Listen’ from the musical Into The Woods, and that’s when I lost it.
Depending on your era, you may know Patinkin as the actor who plays Inigo Montoya in The Princess Bride, or Saul Berenson from Homeland. I had no clue he sang, though to my shame it turns out he’s a critically acclaimed Broadway performer. The clip was from a 1995 appearance on an old talk show. The recording is grainy, the audio crackling gently, but as I listened to Patinkin sing passionately, I remember holding my baby tight, tears pooling in my eyes.
“Careful the things you say,” sang Patinkin.
“Children will listen,
Careful the things you do,
Children will see,
And learn.
Children may not obey,
But children will listen,
Children will look to you,
For which way to turn,
To learn what to be…”
The extremity of parenthood, the responsibility of it, the weight, the privilege, the joy, the duty, the importance of getting it right, honourably, and with love… In just 2 minutes and 30 seconds, Patinkin – channelling the genius of Sondheim, not so much singing as communing an integral truth – encapsulated it all.
You can watch the full clip here. I may be less hormonal now, but it remains a thing of beauty. And as my Spotify will attest, I’m still listening to Sondheim today.
Quick Unrelated Thoughts:
1. Kanye’s been spouting more hideous antisemitism lately. In case you didn’t catch it, here’s my take on raising my children Jewish with the gloom of Jewish hate on the rise.
2. Looking for gifts that help others? The Choose Love shop is the place to buy vital items to help refugees and displaced people around the world. You can buy something in the name of a loved one and let them know with a customised e-card.
3. Food writer Melissa Helmsley’s Feel Good is my absolute favourite recipe book right now. Every dish woos you from the page, beckoning to be made. I’ve turned to it for dinner parties, long lunches and quiet nights in craving comfort food… It’s wonderful and perfectly family – and fussy kid – friendly. Plus, it would make a really excellent gift, too. (FYI
is also on Substack! Do check out her newsletter.)4. Speaking of Substack, if you want to give it a go, author extraordinaire
has written an incredibly generous and helpful post on getting yours started here. (Yes, I’ve taken notes – yes, I pledge to write to you more consistently. Sorrrrrryy everyone.)5. Looking for something longer to read? Here’s a disclaimer: as a professional writer, I know a lot of professional writers. So I’m not going to claim I’m not friends with the authors of the next two books I’m about to recommend, because that would be misleading. But are these books brilliant? You betcha.
Rebel Bodies: A Guide to the Gender Health Gap Revolution
by Sarah Graham
(Out 5 January 2023, Bloomsbury Green Tree)
Award-winning writer Sarah Graham is one of the best health journalists out there right now. Her debut book, Rebel Bodies, explores the systemic sexism within medicine and offers actionable ways for women to advocate to get the diagnosis and treatment needed for themselves and others. Medical misogyny is very real and for far too long women have been fobbed off and belittled when it comes to pain. As the book blurb says, “We are ignored, misdiagnosed, given tranquilisers when we need painkillers, antidepressants when we need HRT, not trusted to make informed choices about our own bodies and worse”. This is an urgent and important book. Pre-order it now!
And for something lighter to curl up with over the festive period…
Single In The Snow
by Helen Whitaker
(OUT NOW on Kindle for 99p; Paperback, £8.99, out 15 December, Hodder & Stoughton)
I can’t remember when I last read a rom-com, but clearly I should seek out the good ones more often, as this super-smart, funny and moving book by Helen Whitaker was an absolute joy to whizz through. A ‘will-they-won’t-they?’ set in the Canadian ski resort of Whistler, it features Jen (on the cusp of turning 30, dumped again, determined to stay single and looking for a fresh start) and Art (handsome, struggling with trauma, unsure if he can love again) who take an instant disliking to each other. Now, I know nothing about skiing or snowboarding, but I loved this snowy world and its characters. It’s perfect winter escapism and ideal stocking fodder for those cosy Betwixtmas days. Buy here.
OK, that’s it for now. Thanks for reading. ‘Til next time.
❤️❤️❤️❤️