When baby rampy was in utero, I tried to be careful about what sounds I exposed her to (Mamma Mia! aside). I made a final break from listening to pop/rock radio stations (that crap the young whippersnappers listen to was getting pretty old anyway) and began listening only to classical music, especially opera. Baby was there in my tummy for all of our operas last season, plus the special Ring cycle that Chicago did in the spring.

Now that she's out in the world, I've tried to continue to expose her ears only to the finest music. I didn't stock up on a bunch of those Baby Einstein music CDs because I figured it's best if she hears the unadulterated version from our music collection (as opposed to the Baby Mozart version of the overture to The Magic Flute played on a tinkly synthesizer). Instead, we listen to Digital Music Classical channels at home or classical CDs in the car.

Recently I ripped a bunch of Raffi and Sesame Street CDs to my iPod, and we've been listening to those while playing in the nursery. I had to delete one song (apparently Elmo is the muppet who sings "ABC-DEF-GHI" these days) but otherwise they are working out great. I'm looking forward to baby rampy being old enough to sing them with me, but until then I'm enjoying rocking out to "'J' Friends" by myself ("J", Joe, jeans, and his jelly beans, Hey, let's sing a song about "J"). Sadly, while Sesame Street has released on CD several of the records I listened to (incessantly) as a child, Sesame Street Disco remains buried in the mists of time, and we can't share in Cookie Monster's sorrow about losing his cookie at the disco or pretend to roller boogie with David.

All that said, often the soundtrack to baby rampy's life is just me singing to her. Sometimes singing for instruction (the alphabet song to build up her brain; songs by Mister Rogers to build up her sense of self-worth), sometimes singing for entertainment ("Old MacDonald" cheers her up when she wants to be picked up when my hands are full; yesterday we had a medly of Christmas carols when I was cooking dinner because I couldn't think of anything else), and often singing to keep my courage up. However many books you read on babycare, nothing really prepares you for taking care of a live, fragile, wiggly baby, and just like I used to sing the Pippi Longstocking song to stay brave around flushing toilets, I soon found myself making up songs to help me cope with baby.

The great thing about singing for a baby is that they aren't really listening to the words at this stage; they just want to hear your voice, and maybe the tune. So mr rampy and I don't beat ourselves up if we forget the words to the golden hits of childhood and end up singing about Old MacDonald having a cupcake with sprinkles here and sprinkles there (or singing conversations to each other ("I thought you were going to make dinner tooooniiiight." "Whyyyy dooooon't yoouuuuu?" "We are out of toooomaaaatoooooes. That's why, that's why, that's whyyyy."). And I feel fine singing songs of my own invention to baby as we navigate the trickier passages of babycare. The loving tone of my singing voice soothes her during her bath, and surely she doesn't understand yet what "Washing the baby's arm, washing the baby's arm, yikes don't slip out of my hands and fall down on the flooooor" means.