Because we are masochists, we bought both Vivian and William a portable stereo for Christmas. These two gifts were even new. My husband purchased them for $10 each in some industrial area. I’m hoping they weren’t stolen from under someone else’s tree, but my husband assured me the place looked “pretty legit.”
We also bought our twins headphones because we’re not that stupid. Of course, William has already shredded one of his foam ear coverings, no doubt as research for the degree he’s working on, a Masters in Destroying Things.
I burned Vivian and William a CD, which was harder than it sounds. I managed to find fourteen songs that fit my two criteria: (1) our kids would like the music, and (2) the songs would not cause me to curl up in the fetal position and begin rocking. The final playlist includes The Black Eyed Peas, Bruce Springsteen, K’Naan, Elliot Brood, Van Morrison, Great Big Sea, Coldplay, Rusted Root, and Wintersleep. And even DJ Champion (because that makes me seem cooler than I am). You will also note that I didn’t check any lyrics for appropriate content.
It’s been fun watching Thing 1 and Thing 2 dance and nearly strangle themselves with their headphones. I did some exaggerated parenting: “If you play the music loudly, you’ll lose all of your hearing forever.” Soon, after some amusing head jerks, Vivian and William learned to restrict their movements while wearing the headphones. They even managed to dance in one spot for quite some time (i.e. two whole songs).
After song two, though, I noticed William wasn’t dancing. I looked over at him and saw him kneeling down. I thought he was looking at the speaker, trying to figure out how it works. Then I looked closer and said this:
It was sensory overload, for all of us. I’m not yet in the fetal position, but there are still hours left in the day.