Sure hate these Blurred Lines

Before I start, I should confess that I’m a feminist. Now, not one of those bra-burning man hating ones, just one of those normal ones who believes that men and women should be treated as equals, and who wants to strangle those who come out with “Back in the kitchen” jokes.

E is now three and a half months old. He’s become a cool little dude who smiles, seems to know who we are, and gives attitude if he can’t get his own way. I’ve written before about how he seems to connect with music that I play him, which I found pretty cool. It’s become a pretty regular thing with me and him. Most days, he’ll be down on the playmat or in his bouncer, I’ll stick on Spotify and he’ll smile up at me or grunt dependant on the song playing. Occasionally we’ll even add a bit of a boogie in there. I’m fairly sure our neighbours across the road think I’ve lost it, between my daytime dancing and the made-up songs to the tunes of nursery rhymes that regularly get belted out. Anything to stop him from crying.

He seems to have honed quite the musical taste. U2 is out, Lana del Ray is in. Bit of a penchant for Dolly Parton. And then. There’s Robin Thicke, and that ear worm of a song, Blurred Lines. Known for its misogyny, and its uproar of last year, probably not the most appropriate of songs for a 14 week old. But he loves it. It came on as part of a random playlist one day when he was in a particularly cranky mood and my child changed into this happy smiling chap. Clearly a “lad” already. It seems that there is something in the melody (because I seriously doubt he understands the underlying sexism in the lyrics) that entices him.

Now, I realise that there are indeed blurred lines as to what way I could approach this. I’m not utterly opposed to the song, despite my feminist confession above I actually did find it quite catchy and while yes agreeing that it did make the singer out to be a total creep, it did make it onto some of my playlists last Summer. That said, the lyrics aren’t exactly words I want imprinted onto my tiny boys brain. But it makes him laugh and smile, and according to Google and other friends of mine with access to tiny babies, he is NOT the only one.

So I went looking for sanitised versions of lyrics with the same melody. I’ve even written my own, though “You know you wanna sleep” doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. Each time it comes on I feel like its this decades version of that scene in Friends where Ross and Rachel sing “Baby Got Back” to Emma. The only versions I’ve found online change the melody and it doesn’t have the same effect, so the poor child has to deal with me trying to think of lyrics to replace the worst of them.

Anybody else had the predicament of inappropriate content adding to their childs happiness, and any suggestions how to fix it? Answers on a post card, please.

The Irish Summer

The thermometer outside Sam McCauleys earlier advised me that it was 26 degrees in Cork today, at about 2pm. I think we can officially call this a heatwave. The streets are filled with some rather unfortunate clothing choices, as normal when the sun goes on for longer than three days. It seems that half the female population of the streets I saw today were after running out of summer clothes, and so they opted to either go for the gym wear, or rather unfortunately for some, their clubbing clothes. Playsuits on people who should not be wearing playsuits. Some things just shouldn’t be seen without vodka goggles…

Neither myself nor the little man are major fans of the heat. Sunshine sure, its lovely. Dead heat, not so much. But armed with iced coffee for me and an ever-present bottle for him, we’re surviving. I’m currently on the hunt for a super light baby sleeping bag. Every shop I’ve gone into today has advised me that they only stock the winter ones. While I know that the sensible thing to do is just order them online while sipping my ice cold Diet Coke in the shade of my apartment, instead of trawling around town with the big black buggy in the heat, cursing each sales assistant out of it. The same sales assistants who didn’t have the sun shade, but having apparently not noticed the massive umbrella sticking out of the side of the buggy advised that they had parasols. “Oh, we only got one or two of those in” or “No, we only stock the warmer ones” is the common cry. 

It seems we are not prepared for the Irish Summer, which is surprising in itself, since we’ve actually consistently had one for the last few years. I am taking the excuse of being new to this whole motherhood craic and believing in the power of the parasol (and not realising that my little demon turns into the hulk when swaddled and can Houdini his way out and awake in less than five seconds). The last time I can remember a truly crap Summer coincides with that “Umbrella” song, which Google tells me was released 7 whole years ago in 2007 (admittedly, that was a shock that it was that long ago). Which means we’ve had sunshine, and loveliness for the vast majority of the summers since then, with this year and last year being particularly lovely. Now, as a country where it rains for six months of the year yet half the population doesn’t own rainwear this shouldn’t surprise me, but it seems we lack preparedness for any form of summer either. We really should take a leaf out of the scouting book and be more prepared – all it takes for the ladies above is a visit to Penneys…

I fear that ordering them online may jinx the good weather but its a necessary evil – by the time they arrive its likely we’ll be back to the rain but at least we’ll have them for next years good weather! In the mean time, I’ve got my cold diet coke and the shade of my apartment to hide in!