Music during pregnancy?

Hey there, good lookin. Now I realize that this stream-of-consciousness-style blog is not exactly a self help column. It’s more of the kind of blog where I ponder the consequences of eating a caterpillar and spend time trying to decipher whether or not a food spiralizer is making sexual advances at me. Like, it’s not devoid of life advice, but it’s probs not the best resource for solving life problems.

And, yet, I need help, and you people are the first ones who came to mind. I’m newly pregnant, and I’m in the stage where I Google every damn thing to make sure I’m not already screwing up, but there’s little advice on this query.

Alright, ready? No? Tough.

Here goes:

What are the possible long term impacts of having my in utero child listen to 90s hip hop?

Like, I can only speculate. I assume that it’s helping baby Byrne develop some rhythm whilst in the womb. Maybe it’s doing that move unique to babies the world over. You know the move I mean, right? It’s a startled, spastic move where they stretch their arms above their heads. It’s like how Steve Holt always introduced himself on Arrested Development. Most babies don’t do that until they’re outside of the womb, but this baby has a reason to experiment with movement. Thanks, Biggie.

photo-1504743591040-f3bec9c542cd
The move, AKA the “Steve Holt”

It’s also moderately educational. The baby’s a bit too enveloped in amniotic fluid to appreciate Sister Act 2 or any episode of A Different World, two appropriate substitutes for the experience most often talked about in 90s hip hop songs.

I feel like Baby Byrne will emerge enlightened in ways that other infants just can’t compete with. Surely I’m giving him an advantage. Maybe by the time she says her first words, it’ll be something along the lines of “OJ was guilty, but his defense team brilliantly played up the undeniable tensions of the 90s.”

I mean, my brother’s first words were “cookie” (pronounced “gun-gee”) and “french fries” (pronounced “yai-yais”), but he didn’t listen to Lil Kim in the womb, did he? Did anyone think to expose him to Ruff Ryders volume 1? That was a miss, wasn’t it?

What do y’all think? Am I on the right track? I feel like I nailed it, and it’s such a relief. I was starting to think that maybe I was doing irreversible damage by exposing my unborn child to lyrics worthy of the “parental advisory” label, but I feel like the benefits far outweigh the (frankly nonexistent) risks.

I’m glad we settled that. Now back to All About the Benjamins

 

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