traditions - watch me sing

I'm not sure how it's happened - other than my love for tradition and routine with my kids - but we start just about everything with a song around these parts.  This is not because I am a great singer.  I am passable, that is all.  Whether singing or speaking my voice only travels about 5 feet.



(And I will forever and ever have dreams that include my high school drama teacher closing her post-rehearsal notes with a frustrated, "Emily, I still can't hear you!"  every.single.time.)

But my boys are not my critics.  yet.  So we sing.  I largely pull from the Children's Songbook and random musicals. We sing before we pray, we sing before we read scriptures, we sing when someone's grumpy, and we definitely sing when someone is feeling sorry for themselves.   It's funny how singing sends a message that gets accepted in ways that yelling or nagging never would.  Somehow my boys know that when I bust a song out, there will be no negotiating.  It's the handiest parenting tool I've got right now.  Especially in the middle of Sacrament Meeting.