The Rooster Produces

A little note from this all-over-the-map Rooster writer:

Yes, my blog post themes hip hops from poetry to politics, from novel excerpts to photography.

For this post, my former profession has returned. I have once again dipped my toes into that magical pond of childhood.

The following is one of many finger plays/songs in my repertoire.

When you share this with a young one, don’t forget the gestures and enthusiasm!

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Now, the chances are pretty good you might see more future blogs for parents and teachers – or anyone who loves interacting with young children.

Note 2: author of this poem is unknown

via Bubble

Do You Like Children?

Not everyone does, you know. Some adults think that those little human “beans” should sprout somewhere else, anywhere but in their close proximity.

Yes, children are loud and can irritate and inflame every nerve to the point where anti-inflamatories don’t work.

Children are curious to a fault – “How come?” “Why do I haf-ta?” “What’s that?” Those questions sometimes makes us grown-ups feel stupid because we don’t always have the internet at hand for research.

But I know that children are magic.

They help us remember what our long-ago years were like.

They remind us of that feeling of satisfaction when the “ah-ha!” moments pop out of nowhere land.

They refill our imagination bucket with all kinds of sweet nuggets of creativity.

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Three years ago and four grandchildren later, ribbons of creativity, once hidden in my DNA, have sprouted again. Thanks to those growing “beans,” the product of their influence is now available here.

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Thank you for taking a look.

What numbskull wrote this?

While sitting for my 14 month old granddaughter, I thought once again about the lyrics of this creepy song:

Rock a bye baby,

in a treetop,

when the wind blows,

the cradle will rock,

when the bough breaks,

the cradle will fall,

and down will come baby,

baby and all.

What a horrible song to sing to little ones at nighttime!

By the way, I’ve never sang those lyrics to any of my babies!

So, here’s the deal.

The song was first published in 1765 in Mother Goose’s Melody. The only change from today was the first line – Mush-abye-baby. (Still weird) The editors noted, it is “a warning to the proud and ambitious, who climb [too] high that [they] generally fall at last.”

Here’s one theory:

James II had a son by his second wife in 1688, displacing the presumptive heir, his daughter, Mary, married to the Protestant William III of Orange. One speculative theory simply holds that the baby in the song is this little guy, and the lyrics were a “death wish,” that the little Catholic prince would die and a Protestant king would ascend to the throne.

Here’s another: A relative of Davy Crocket made up the song when she was babysitting. (IMDB lists her as the writer of “Rock-a-Bye Baby” when it was used in well-over 100 movies.)

Alrighty then.

Another theory is when the pilgrims encountered the Native Americans, they put their babies in cradles up in trees to protect them. (Stupid because surely, the cradle would fall. Maybe it was really the Native Americans who created the song to make fun of the of the newcomers putting their kids in trees.)

Whatever. It’s still a scary song.

My ending goes like this,

“And Mommy/Daddy will catch you, cradle and all.”

At least the song “Ring around the Rosie,” sad because of its original meaning, didn’t have scary words.

Okay, off my soapbox now. And remember to always hold your children tight.

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