If you’re a musician or a music buff of any sort, your annual Spotify Wrapped is maybe more exciting than Christmas. It’s your year’s worth of listening compiled into beautiful lists that you’re eager to post about to show your circles of friends how on-trend, underground, or quirky you are.

But what happens when your data is no longer your own, but your 2-year-old’s? What if it’s not only nothing to brag about, but it’s actually quite embarrassing? That happened to me last year. I’ve always prided myself on having quality taste in music, but now my Spotify Daily Mix playlists include Dinosaur Stomp by Mother Goose Club and the Veggie Tales theme song. Oh, and I can’t forget the track, “Pigs Oinking” from an album called Farm Sounds.

I’m Brett Hicks - a singer, a worshiper, a lover of RnB and killer vocal runs, a mediocre pianist and songwriter, and a mom to two boys aged 2 and 8 months. That last fact has really influenced the trajectory of all things music in my life in the last couple years - and especially since my oldest has gained a strong personal opinion about what he wants to listen to.

While you’d think that motherhood, with all of its radically life-changing effects, would inspire tons of new material and songs, I’m too tired to tap into it. Motherhood has all but ruined the RnB I used to love. I have new ears to hear it and simply can’t fathom exposing my babies to all the suggestive lyrics. When I listen to music I enjoy that I will let my sons listen to, I find myself wondering, Should I sing in my “real voice” with my kids? That feels really extra. Not to mention, often when I’m singing, my son will say, “Mommy, what are you doing? Too loud!”

I find myself thinking about things I’d never considered before. Like the behind the scenes production and the musical skill of the writers of Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood (check out “When You Feel So Mad”) and StoryBots’ (I can’t stop singing “Horse”) many catchy songs. I also find myself facepalming over how most children’s music is unbelievably obnoxious and then wondering if there’s an opportunity for someone like me to do it better.

My main musical outlet in this season of life is helping lead worship at my church once a month. Even that feels like a feat at times. Between Thursday night rehearsals starting before my sons are in bed and the Sunday morning commitment requiring ~6 hours, it’s tough! But I’m trying to fight for it because making music is integral to me being my whole self.

So my kids aren’t impressed with my ability to nail a vocal run or hit that high note. They don’t appreciate my pretty improvising on the piano and would rather bang on the keys and outdo me. I’m okay with that! I’m humbled by it. I’m learning to lean into it and remember that everything is just a season. That my Spotify Wrapped will be mine again one day, and the songs I wake up with stuck in my head won’t be about dinosaurs anymore, and I’ll get to listen to anything I want in the car again.

So for now, I embrace this weird and wacky music season I’m in. I’m committed to encouraging my boys to latch onto music in any way they feel drawn. I lost my 2-year-old at church the other week and, after a couple minutes of searching for him, I found him in the drum kit on stage. My heart was happy! In the words of Cory Asbury, “I know we’re tired right now, someday we’ll laugh about it. Let’s slow it down and raise a glass, cause these are the days that we’ll want back.”

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