Songs and Poems My Mother Taught Me in a "Pre" PC World
But then I thought, "Heck, why do that today? Let me save that for another time."
In looking at my life as a "new" mother at age 45, I have had a chance to reminisce about what things were like when I was age two and age six, like my own kids are now. When I read princess stories to my daughter, I remember how much I loved "Snow White" as a kid. As a grown up, I can hardly believe how odd these older "Fairy Tales" are - they are old-time stuff - pre the "Politically Correct" world we are now forced to live in. I am not PC most of the time. I try, but I often talk too much to think about what I'm saying - in other words, my mouth often works faster than my brain. Not always a good thing.
So, a few times, I've found myself teaching my kids songs or little sayings that inadvertently pop into my head as a memory of my youth comes flashing in to my brain. No sooner do these words come out of my mouth, (as I am feeling nostalgic and cannot believe I actually had these things stored in my brain for all these years), that I realize, "Hey, that was totally UNCOOL!" The thing is, it wasn't uncool back in 1967 or 1968; it was cute! Cute is not always PC today!
Here are some examples of stuff that I have repeated to my kids that my mom taught me way back when that might get me funny looks from other moms, or actually might bring about legal action in the wrong company. See for yourself. Mind you, I do not know the authors of these things, I only know them from memory and know not where they originated from. (Legal Disclaimer: Maureen DID NOT write the following stuff, does not know who did, and well, you can blame, give funny looks to, or sue her mother - now dead - as SHE is responsible for teaching Maureen all of this UN-PC stuff. As most likely is her mother before her and her mother before her, etc.)
Here we go:
Ladybug, ladybug, fly away
Your house is on fire
And your children are burning.
*Anyone else recognize this little ditty? You were supposed to say this after you picked up a ladybug, (an insect of the beetle variety), and wanted her to fly away. I was also told if you counted the spots on her back, you would know how many children she had to fly home to to get out of the burning house.
Another example:
Step on a crack, break your father's/mother's back.
*We all know this one, right? Can't step on a sidewalk crack, or your poor daddy's/mommy's back will snap like magic! We don't want to be responsible for hurting the folks, right? What a guilt trip this was!
Another one:
Mama had a baby and her head popped off!
*This little gem is supposed to be recited when you pick a yellow dandelion, grab it by the stem and POP the yellow flower off the stem and let it fly into the air.
Today, a neighbor's daughter learned this from my son, who, after only hearing it once, memorized it, and taught it to her. The girl was very upset by this saying, and in fear that women were popping babies' heads off on a regular basis somewhere in the world. I had to apologize profusely to the mom, who was totally fine with it, (I think), but the girl, who is on the Autism Spectrum, will never be the same, I'm afraid.
A lullaby you are all, I am sure, familiar with:
Rockabye baby, on the treetop
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
And down will come baby, cradle and all.
*I was reading this to my daughter this evening, and when I realized how it sounded at the end, I changed it to:
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall
And angels catch baby, cradle and all!
Good catch, right? I am a quick thinker in the "change-the-horrid-nightmare-inspiring-nursery-rhyme-to-good-stuff" department.
A song: (Now, forgive me here. I am only giving you an EXAMPLE. My mother was 2nd generation Irish Catholic, her dad came "over on the boat" and the Catholics and Protestants did not get along and respect each other back when I was little. Can you imagine that? So, she taught me this little Irish "ditty"):
Ahem! Ahem!
Me Mother has gone to church!
She told me not to play with you because you're in the dirt.
It isn't because you're dirty,
It isn't because you're clean.
It's because you've got the WHOOPIN' cough and eat
mar-ge-rine!
*No comment.
And finally, a prayer. Yes, a prayer to scare the living hell out of any kid:
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should DIE BEFORE I WAKE
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
*I'm sorry. At three or four or five or forty-five, I STILL don't want to die before I wake. It makes going to bed a very scary prospect at any age, knowing you're giving God the okay to let you not wake up. I know it's not meant to sound that way, but it does to most kids. I know I'm not the only one - because my Aunt Westa taught me a different version of this prayer while I was staying with her while on vacation from elementary school. Her version is the one I taught my kids to say. It goes like this:
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the Lord my soul to keep
In the morning light I wake,
Show me the path of love to take.
*Much nicer, right?
So, there you have it. A myriad of un-PC things I learned from my Ma. She was not PC. She was a tough broad.
Are kids today wusses compared to yesterday's kids? Probably. I think each generation feels that way. (Perfect example - "When I was your age, I didn't get to take a bus to school! I walked five miles, each way, up-hill, in the snow with no boots." Ever heard this one? EVERYONE has.) From their mothers.
So, yeah, in today's world, it might not be the best thing to teach a kid about bug's babies being on fire in a house, mommies popping heads off of their precious little babies, or of dying before you wake up. It really sounded very harsh when I heard these things come out of my mouth; there they were, words floating in the air, and me, helpless and unable to take them back.
Still, now that I think about it, it only bothers me as a mom. As a kid, I loved the sing-songy rhythm of each little poem. I didn't give it much thought. Yes, they say kids are very literal. Maybe I just wasn't smart enough to feel that these things were real; nor did they evoke nightmares for me. They were, to me back then, the same as singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" (harmless), or "Baa Baa Black Sheep" (simple). They were the songs of my youth. They were the tunes I sang or poems I recited that made me happy when I came upon a lone ladybug, or went picking dandelions, or was walking down the sidewalk, arm-in-arm, with my best friends. I never actually worried about that ladybug or her babies. I knew that those little baby ladybugs would be fine because their mom was on her way, soon to swoop in and make everything okay. I knew she was flying home to SAVE her kids, like all mothers try to do, and would give their lives to do. Some succeed, some don't. But that's for us grown-ups to know and worry about. Not kids.
Let's let em sing. We'll do all the worrying for them.
That's what all good moms do.
To all the lovely women out there; those of you in my beloved circle of family and friends, those of you with kids, without kids, with pets that are their kids, whatever; I've been all of those): Happy Mother's Day.
Cheerth!
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