Play that funky music, white girl

I have the worst taste in music. Seriously. My first concert was Hanson. I spent a semester in college trying to convince my sorority sisters our rush shirts should be themed to Outkast's "Hey Ya." ("What's cooler than bein' cool? Bein' a Gamma Phi!"... Come on, you know you love it) I will passionately defend my argument that Miley's "Wrecking Ball" was the greatest song of 2013. I am the target market for country cheesiness: songs about trucks, small towns, the troops, or Friday nights make my heart sing.  

Try not to be too jealous of the show choir hotness

And I don't care. I know my Pandora playlist looks like a teenybopper's dream redneck dj mix (Except for the Biebs. My taste may be bad, but it is not Bieber bad.). You would think that after 14 years of formal piano training and six years of voice, I would have some sort of sophisticated view on music. Nope. I love catchy beats, songs that play to the nostalgia of my long lost youth (I am almost 30, after all), and anything I can imagine I would hear blasting out of a frat house on Rugby Road on Saturday night. I embrace it. 

As much as I love my bad pop and country, when we had B, I knew I was going to have to tone it down. So, I kept to country and Christian on the car radio while we darted around Atlanta. I decided while country may have its downfalls (seriously with the country rap? Get it together, Bubba Sparxxx. And don't get me started on Toby Keith.), it had to be better than most of the other songs on loop on the top 40 stations (I am looking at you, Rhianna. "S&M," really?). 

Lately, though, I have been feeling the need to have more of our music be B-centered. And so began the toddlerification of our eardrums. The Disney soundtracks (any and all of them) have basically been on loop since the start of the new year. There are lots of classic lullabies now being tranquilly sung from our car stereo. We started music class on Tuesday. 

And at first, she loved all of it. Drum solos had her cheering. She would sway to slow songs and clap along with fast ones. She took it all in and everything was golden. 

Then, she discovered she could pick the songs we listened to. She could say "no" or "more," and magically Mommy and Daddy would end a song or put it on loop. It was all downhill from there. Because this poor child definitely inherited my gene for truly horrible music 

Last week in the car, she screamed nonstop for 15 minutes while we sat in non-moving, no reason for it Atlanta traffic. In a panic, I was rushing through the cds trying to find a song to calm her down. Surely "Old McDonald" will work, right? Nope. "Itsy Bitsy Spider?" Negative.

Oh wait, what is this? Momma's "Beachweek 2006: NO PARENTS" CD? Journey on repeat? All smiles for the next 30 minutes. Not a typical baby selection, but desperate times, folks.

She has decided the all time classic "Happy Birthday" should be feared and any rendition should be howled through loudly. Meanwhile, "Achy Breaky Heart" comes on? Dance party time. (That one may not be her fault. Maybe we are genetically predisposed to love the Cyrus family). 

The pièce de résistance? Frozen. I know, I know. Every little girl in America is having a singalong with Elsa. "Let it Go" is the anthem of 2014. But, B. Oh, sweet B couldn't care less if "Let it Go" is playing. By that point in the soundtrack, she has grabbed the remote and is repeating "no" as urgently as she can. 

Her takeaway from Frozen? Frozen Heart. While the rest of the songs are Oscar nominated or sung by huge stars, B is clinging to the intro and dancing along with the Vikings? Sweedish ice makers? Nordic delivery men? Whatever they are, they are B's kindred spirits. She mimics cutting the ice and thumps to the heavy beat. She smiles as big as she can and has taken to putting a tutu on as soon as the opening chords start. She is in total bad-music love. 

I guess it was meant to be. Her grandpa's ring tone is "Jump" by the Pointer Sisters, after all. She really didn't stand a chance.

She can only blame the love of bad music on my side, though. Those dance moves... that is all her daddy, bless his heart. 

"Do we have to dance the whole time at our wedding?"

"I. Am. Fabulous."