Music makes everything better (a.k.a. Why I don’t hate Katy Perry)

Mornings are a struggle. This morning, something magic happened. Shiny went downstairs without me having to grab her by the ankle and slowly drag her down the stairs. Sound brutal? Well, she doesn’t like it but it gets her down safely, rather than up into her sister’s old room or into the bathroom with the medicines, and I physically cannot carry her with the baby on my back.

I asked her to show me she knew where downstairs was. She threw a book down the stairway. Then I said, “Okay, now go get it.”

She did. And then walked herself into the living room, where I rescued the book, and went to get her lunch and shoes.

Lunch in bag, shoes and socks were the next terrifying battle. Shiny has kicky feet. And when the shoes are on, hard kicky feet. Getting her shoes on is always a battle, as she loathes them, but they’re necessary for keeping her socks on long enough to get to the bus.

I started singing, the first catchy song that came to mind… You’re hot and you’re cold, you’re yes and you’re no….

And a magical thing happened. She stopped fighting. She let me put her shoes on. I kept singing. She let me walk her to her wheelchair. We made it to the bus on time. And as I waved and signed our goodbyes, it occurred to me that I could probably sign 90% of that song.

Most of Katy Perry’s songs are actually written at a level which appeals very strongly to Shiny. She loves music, she loves opposites most of all. And I didn’t get kicked this time.

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