Hip Hop Home

At first glance, I would consider myself a pretty unassuming person.  I'm somewhere between 5'0 and 5'2 (depending on the day), my features aren't particularly striking, I have a petite build, and I'm usually lugging one or two kids around.  I have been known to wear pearls, Tom's, cardigans, and I would consider my North Face jacket one of my most used articles of clothing.

Yeah.  I've got swagger.

However, beneath the surface lies a freak flag, waiting to be flown.  I was out to dinner with my dad last month at some new(ish) hipster place in my hometown's equivalent to Brooklyn and, between bites of artisan pizza and a divine salad laced with loads of fennel, I grooved to some of the greatest hip hop/rap hits of my youth, blaring over the restaurant's sound system.  It was so nostalgic and I loved it.  I can't help myself.  I'm a sucker for thug life.

Any stay-at-home parent knows that you need a few tricks up your sleeve to keep your sanity throughout the day.  For me, this has manifested itself in incorporating as much swag as possible into my everyday life, as well as the lives of my children.  Just because they are under five doesn't mean they can't hustle.  Let me give you a few examples of just how dope they are...

When Jammy was under two (and an only child), she was our only stroller rider.  Out on walks, we would casually sing, and I would alter the lyrics of some of my favorite songs, making them about her.  What can I say?  Toddlers are narcissists.  We had endless conversations along the lines of Wow! Look at blue sky! B-B-B-blue or Oh my.  Look at those brown dogs.  What do dogs say?  To beat the boredom of this, I began to bust some rhymes on my impressionable toddler.  To this day (at almost age 5), she still mutters...

They see me strollin, 

in my Britax...

What she doesn't know are the rest of the lyrics, truths in infant and toddler households worldwide...

Why the hell she up so early?

What the f---, it's just 4:30!

Holy shit, your diaper's dirty!

Go to sleep, it's too damn early!

Maybe Chamillionaire isn't your style.  That doesn't mean you can't play.  Do you prefer pop music?  Maybe something a little more recent?  I got you.

When I take a shower, I like the water to be H-O-T.  To me, that's a comforting and relaxing feeling. In fact, I am so used to hot water that Habibi has christened me "Stone Hands" in the kitchen when I'm doing dishes, on account of the fact that I apparently use water that is too hot for human hands.  So, in the early days of bathing Jammy (or at least once she was past infancy), I would turn the water up to what I would consider a comfortable temperature for a toddler (i.e. not as hot as I would for me, but still warm).  When Jammy would complain "too hot!" in the tub, I simply couldn't help myself.  All I could hear was Bruno Mars singing Uptown Funk.

I couldn't very well incorporate profanity into a song I was teaching my then two-year-old.  However, she had already earned her nickname "Jammy", and I could change the lyrics to reflect that...

[the bath water is] Too hot!  (Hot Jam)

Called a police and a fireman

I'm too hot! (Hot Jam)

Make a dragon wanna retire man

I'm too hot! (Hot Jam)

Say my name you know who I am

I'm too hot! (Hot Jam)

...

Later, when her brother "Ribbers" turned into the musical aficionado that he is (around 18 months at the time), he got to participate...

Jammy: Ribbers, hit your hallelujah

Ribbers: (no matter where he is, or what he is doing, responds with fervor) HOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OK, maybe you hate Uptown Funk (Are you a robot?!?!?!?!), but you can't deny that "pimpin' ain't easy but it's necessary"...actually it isn't.  It's abhorrent and exploiting vulnerable people is probably the most despicable job on earth, but Ice Cube's Down for Whatever has inspired my son's...

Now Ribbin' ain't easy but it's necessary

So I'm chasin' Ummi like Tom chased Jerry

I'll put the pedal to the flo-uh

Bangin' on the bathroom do-uh

You know how it's done

Sounds bumpin'

Ain't that somethin'?

Now, for a moment of silence in honor of Anouchka's favorite playa.

He has dropped as many rhymes as Dr. Seuss (and shares a stylist with the Cat in the Hat)...

He has bravely hosted a cooking show with a convicted felon (Martha Stewart)...

He practically shares a name with the most dope-ass cartoon beagle in Christendom (Snoopy)...

Yup.  That's my man Snoop Dogg.  He is the most inspiring performer in the bored mom arena.  His biggest hits are begging to be transformed into potty-training anthems.  To this day, my four-year-old never fails to drop a beat when she drops a deuce, thanks to this framed gem in our bathroom:

Or what about this song (with Jason Derulo)?  Perfect for diaper changes...

Ummi: You know what to do with that poopy butt!

Kids:  (on the toilet or getting a diaper change, without fail will reply)
Wipe it, Wipe it, Wipe it!

I'm not cool.  I know this.  But sometimes, it's fun to pretend that I am.  Hell, for a brief time in my life, my kids might actually think that I am.  (Oh wait a minute.  Jammy just told me last week, "Mom, you think you're sooooo cool.  Well, you're not!"  Try keeping a poker face when your pre-schooler throws that one at you!)  I may be well on my way to driving a minivan (one more kid and we will outgrow our beloved Forester!), but I'll wager that no one can hustle like a mama can.  So next time you see a soccer mom with her messy top knot and stained yoga pants, maybe don't assume that what you see is what you get.  She probably has a few tricks of her own.