Musical Moments Transformed My Parenting Perspective

Photo by Bastien Jaillot on Unsplash

I finished wiping shit off my screaming daughter’s butt cheeks, and my nostrils were assaulted by the sweet and steamy plume of several-days-old feces basting in the diaper pail. I’d long lost my sense of disgust; the sharp hit of reality was almost appealing, really.

The moment was passing almost as fast as the day had. My son shot up between my legs and wailed for me to just fucking pick him up. My hands moved on autopilot as I finished getting my daughter ready for bed and finally got her off the changing table. Then, I picked up my son and did it all over again.

Ass. Wiped.

Nostrils. Blasted.

Mind. Melted.

I shut off the lights to remind my children it was time to start simmering down. They rebelled, knowing the day was coming to an end and their tyrant father would soon be forcing them to go quietly into the night. I wrangled them onto my lap and rocked violently on the rocking chair as if the swift movement would make them forget they were screaming.

There has never been any reasoning with these little goblins. They haven’t quite grasped that aspect of humanity just yet. The world is still so fresh and vibrant that they grasp for every waking moment they can get their hands on.

I know they like cartoons. That would quiet them, but it would also keep them up until the tyrant decides to shut it off. I figured they might do well with some calming music. That would put me to sleep, not them. I swayed slightly, trying to soothe myself, and it hit me — perhaps a calming musical. Something like, The Sound of Music.

Yes.

My thumbprint brought my phone screen to life and then fluttered to the YouTube icon. I typed, My Favorite Things, and the darkness consuming my children’s bedroom was filled with the soft golden glow of Julie Andrews’s Maria as she sang in her room to the seven von Trapp children, soothing them through the thunderstorm.

That melody had once soothed my little brother when he was about the age my children were just then. The screaming stopped. They rested their little heads on my chest, and their eyes glimmered as they watched Julie Andrews sing beautifully.

The clip quickly came to an end, and my daughter excitedly begged for another. I needed something longer that might perhaps whisk them to sleep.

I typed, A Lovely Night — La La Land.

My children’s reaction to that momentous scene in cinematic history made me realize I had been wrong about parenting all my life. I’d been working so hard to instill habits and rigid structure to ensure my children would become the best little humans around, but all I was doing was drizzling my grey habits, dull routines, and logic over their still-vibrant canvas of the world.

Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone tap-dancing jazzily across the screen while singing their playful lyrics created a work of art that sparked my children’s wonder and rekindled the fire of curiosity inside me as I watched it happen. That little moment made me realize that art can sometimes revitalize our lives by allowing us to see through the lens of curiosity and possibility — as if we were one or two years old again.

Parenting didn’t have to mean smothering my children’s creativity with structure. Instead, it could mean letting their wonder guide me — even as I’m guiding them. It reminded me that life isn’t just about routines or rules; it’s about the moments of beauty and spontaneity that keep us connected to the world, to art, and to each other. And in those quiet, golden moments, I rediscovered a part of myself I’d forgotten: the part that sees magic in the mundane and finds joy in the unexpected.

Here on NOSTR, I want to show the world that life is a scroll riddled with ink. The marks will only ever be simple blots on the parchment unless you pause and perceive them for the characters they are.

I’m constantly thinking about what the future could look like if we just take action.

More of my thoughts about the future and the world around us are coming soon here and on Medium.

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