Really, Radio Disney?

My daughter’s favorite band was once Arcade Fire.  Her father and I were both listening to “The Suburbs” a lot while she was in the womb. She also remains a big fan of Blitzen Trapper, Okkervil River, and Handsome Furs, from all the time she spent hanging out with her favorite Uncle Jared this past summer listening to his hipster music. I thought she was one awesome little toddler, but then the neurotic mother in me began to worry that maybe she would be considered a little weirdo by the other kids at daycare if she didn’t listen to more kid-friendly music.

So, now she’s a total fanatic for Nickelodeon’s Fresh Beat Band – Kiki, Marina, Twist, and Shout.  Every time she hears those Fresh Beats, she’s up on her feet, clapping and shaking her booty like nobody’s business.  I encourage her dancing, so I start to clap along too and say, “get it girl” and “yeah, my girl likes to drop it like it’s hot.”  So much for those worries about my daughter being a little weirdo.  Even when she listens to common child’s music, she has a silly momma like me who taught her to slap her behind when asked, “Emily, where’s your booty?”

 

 

This doesn’t concern me as much as the degree to which everyone but Emily is getting annoyed as fuck with The Fresh Beat Band.  My mother helps babysit, and recently told me, “I know Emily loves those Fresh Beaters, but boy are they fucking annoying.”  Her dad asked if we could please take the Fresh Beat CD out of the car for a while because he “couldn’t take it anymore.”

Therefore, I have recently begun programming into Radio Disney on XM Radio.  Yesterday, while I was transporting my two children, Radio Disney was playing some music that I really questioned.  I know I just admitted to bragging that my baby girl likes to drop it like it’s hot, but Radio Disney should have higher standards than me.  I was not pleased when I heard Karmin’s “Broken Hearted,” the song that my mother absolutely despises because of a line that alludes to anal sex.  And after that, Radio Disney played Pitbull.  Pitbull! Really, Radio Disney?  Are we hanging out in Mickey’s Club House or in “da club”? Pitbull sang, “Hey Baby. Yeah you, Baby. Come Here, Baby.  Let’s make a movie, Baby.”  Between you and me, I don’t think Pitbull was singing about starring in some Disney “Buddies” movie with that gang of adorable little dogs.  He was talking about filming a pornographic scene. 

Yes, yes, it’s true that when I sing karaoke my two go-to songs are “I Touch Myself” by the DiVinyls and “Baby got Back” by Sir Mix-A-Lot.  But, my babies don’t do karaoke with me.  When I sing with my children, my go-to songs are “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” and “Jesus Loves Me.” 

Yes, it’s also true I drop f-bombs on this blog like it’s an all-out battleground.  But, I hope no one reads this shit to their children.  There’s a time and a place for everything, and I’ve certainly broken these boundaries a time or two.  Regardless, Radio Disney is NOT the place for Pitbull and songs about slutting it up by declaring “I’ll do anything you want to, just don’t leave me broken-hearted tonight.”  Radio Disney, you’re breaking my heart, and my husband’s head is going to be hurting too because it’s back to The Fresh Beat Band CD.