I do love my music. With the exception of death metal and some of the more heavy rap, I pretty much enjoy everything depending on my mood. But like most people I have my go-to favourites, and none more than when I’m driving.
I switch from pounding hi-energy disco circa 1984 or equally ear-splitting rock (when I’m lucky enough to be alone) to being the queen of easy listening if I’ve got the little ones in the car. I discovered years ago that anything with a very fast or heavy beat tends to amplify their worst behaviours, so I’ve gone all grandma on them ever since. My tunes of choice right now tend to be one of these two:
I often just have M in the car, as she’s heading off to yet another appointment, and it’s frankly adorable to hear her singing along to David Cassidy or the Bay City Rollers as we eat up the miles into town. She’s extremely fond of Dr Hook too (not quite as much as me but I think I have obsessional issues with Dennis Locorriere’s voice – that’s another story altogether) and she’s word perfect on songs like Sylvia’s Mother and Years From Now. All very innocent. Until…………..
CD 2 was requested yesterday on the way to Camhs. M had decided she wanted the “funny” songs, not the slushy ones, so I slid the CD in and off we went. Hubby’s new car is a bit weird, the CD player is in the glove compartment so it’s not advisable to change CDs while you’re driving.
The second track came on and I was singing along under my breath as I do because M has a problem with me singing over songs – she can, but I’m not allowed to. And then I realised what the words were. Dilemma. Do I quickly skip the track and face a meltdown or do I let the song play out and hope she’s not actually listening? The second option is what I choose as I know that she will get very upset if I skip before the end, but I’m cringing inside as I just know that she will be absorbing every single word. That’s when echolalia is a curse.
I have no idea when the lyrics might pop up again, and where. M’s echolalia comes to the fore mostly when she is stressed, and it can take any form from counting to 100 over and over again, to reciting huge tracts of a film script, or song words. I used to get a bit annoyed when all I could hear were Christmas songs in the middle of July but right now, if she gets stressed, I’d be delighted to hear Jingle Bells instead of this option.
Just praying she doesn’t recall all the words in the middle of a particularly trying school assembly!!