Sunshine

When I was little girl, my mom would stand in the doorway and sing my sister and I to sleep with the sweetest rendition of You Are My Sunshine. I recently started singing it to Lucia as I rock her to sleep each night. At first she just gazed at me, soaking in the lyrics. Then one night she surprised me and sang both verses right back to me. My favorite part from her "and I hung my head and I cwied," closely followed by "You make me happy, when skies are gweat." Awwww. So now it's her favorite song. Each night I collapse onto the rocker, gather her in the nook of my left arm - she prefers to sit on my lap and face out so she doesn't miss anything. By that time of night we've already been through the decision tree of what stuffed animal she'll tuck under her arm and what blanket I'll wrap around her as we snuggle. I kiss her hair and temples. Then she whispers, "Sunshine." So I start: You are my sunshine --- then she interrupts me and says no it's too loud, "baby" is sleeping. So I lower my voice to a whisper, enunciating each word so she can follow along, You Make Me Happy -- only to have her change her mind: No Mommy LOUD. LOUD. LOUD. Ok then! I crank up the volume for the rest of the song, which generally includes both verses all the way through at least three times. Oftentimes she'll ask for Freight Train next, but we always start our evening routine with Sunshine. 

It's funny, I think often how hard we don't want to be like our moms in some ways (and this is universal -- most daughters want to do things differently than their mothers), and in so many ways I wouldn't do it any other way. She's my sunshine, and I was my moms. It not only makes sense to pass this on, it makes me happy to do so.