I’d like to start off by thanking my mother for mentioning The Wiggles to my four year old. Before that weekend, Susie had no idea the musical foursome existed.
Mom (innocently)- “Susie, do you listen to The Wiggles?”
Susie – “No, Nanny, what’s the wiggle?”
I don’t know what the rest of the conversation was but I do know this; Susie got in the car today and asked to listen to The Wiggles. I hemmed and hawed, tried to tell her I couldn’t find the CD, and finally produced it when she insisted I check the glove box.
“Toot-toot, chugga-chugga, Big Red Car, we travel near and we travel fa-a-ar…”
I started drifting back in time. Sophia was 14 months old and I was in the throes of all day pregnancy illness, the kind that knocks you flat on your back in the middle of the day. I wasn’t exactly mother of the year as I kept the living room drapes closed and The Wiggles on an endless loop for her; lying on the couch and begging God to relieve me of my nausea.
Fast forward to Sophia at age 2 and Timmy at 4 months, both kids bouncing and wiggling along to the music. I was singing at full volume and dancing around like a crazy person, wishing I could shower but doing anything to keep those kids busy, anything to keep from losing my mind.
I don’t know when it was that I started to think of the Wiggles as individuals. At some point they were no longer The Wiggles, they were Greg, Jeff, Murray and Anthony.
There was nothing particularly special about Anthony, except that he was the least nerdy and he had a cool Australian accent. Oh, and he had a great smile. I mean a really, really great smile. And I was sleep deprived and punchy, feeling like it was a lucky day if I could shower and avoid baby puke. Between Tim’s crazy schedule, Timmy’s nighttime antics, and my inability to synchronize the kids’ naps, The Wiggles were a dependable constant in my delirious life.
When they came to our area for a live show, I jumped at the opportunity. Sophia and I sat on the edges of our balcony seats and when that big red car rolled onto the stage I wept with joy. I don’t think I would have been any more excited if Jon Bon Jovi had made a surprise appearance. There he was, Anthony. Right on the stage in front of me with a sparkle in his eye and a cartoon superhero’s smile on his face. I’m pretty sure I passed out for a second.
In the seats below me the cheering grew to a roar. Women were throwing flowers on stage, children were holding signs saying “My mom thinks Anthony is hot!” and oh my gosh was that a bra flying through the air? The whole place was in chaos. Anthony was the star of the show and I wasn’t the only demented one who had a not-so-secret crush on him. I collapsed with relief. I was not alone.
I don’t know who the current favorite of the toddler crowd is and I am so very thankful for this, but I have a little piece of wisdom for parents of toddlers. It will get easier, I promise you. I make a solemn promise to you that today’s fad will soon become a distant memory. I can finally listen to The Wiggles without dreaming of moving to Australia or envisioning a private serenade, however Anthony is definitely getting more handsome with age.
Hang in there parents; you’ve got this.