Sunday, April 6, 2014

Milestones

MLKA stood on her own for the first time today. She also said "Daddy" with her daddy as the clear referent. She's reached the stage at which she seeks our praise through imitation--her learning will only grow exponentially from here.

We are so proud of her. ♥

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

The beginning of language: a Wittgensteinian reflection


Ludwig Wittgenstein

Ludwig Wittgenstein, an analytic philosopher of the twentieth century, discussed the origins of language in the second of his best-known works, Philosophische Untersuchungen ("Philosophical Investigations").  He borrowed a few lines from Augustine of Hippo, who had described his development of language as a process of finding the words to express the thoughts already in his mind, and then explored what language acquisition might look like among builders if words (simply) corresponded to objects.

Throughout the rest of this set of investigations, Wittgenstein illustrated that words are not so much in relationship to objects as they are pawns in language games, to be used variously according to how they fit given the various plays that have already been made.  We understand one another because we've agreed on how to play with words.

I've reflected on Wittgenstein for years, but now I have children.  Parenting and philosophizing meet at this moment in my life, especially today.  MLKA, now eight months old, just signed "milk" for the first time.  She hasn't yet spoken a word, but she can, when asked what she wants, move her fingers to open and close her fist, which is the ASL sign for milk.  And now, newly endowed with linguistic agency (beyond the tones of her cries), she is able to be specific--this, not that.  We don't have to work as hard to get what she wants.  She has developed her first bodily signal to replace cries to indicate what she wants.  Opening and closing a fist is an arbitrary action in itself, but we all have agreed in practice that "milk"--or, more particularly, our retrieving of milk in a bottle so she can drink it as soon as possible--is what that action means.

There will be more signs, and then spoken words, to replace her cries, and to give voice to her desires and fears and curiosities.  I am excited for MLKA to explore the world on levels beyond that of bodily immediacy.  That is our great gift as human beings, to be able reflectively to voice our experiences, giving those experiences new shades and memorability. 

Got milk? 

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Praying Together

This Sunday I'll make my profession as a novice of the Community of St. Mary of the Annunciation in Tempe, Arizona.  One of my promises during this profession will be to pray daily (our community prays morning prayer, noon-day prayer, evening prayer, and night prayer--we're not cloistered, so most of the time we aren't praying together physically, but we pray at certain times together in particular ways).  In preparation for my profession, I've been praying according to the custom of the community.

Since I'm a stay-at-home-parent, sometimes my children pray with me.  Today my toddler, AEMA, asked to join me.  While she painted with water-colors next to me at the dining room table, I moved through the pages of my three prayer books, singing and chanting.  As I sang the opening hymn, I looked at her, and she stared wide-eyed back at me, her mouth open in a little "o."  She's used to hearing music come out of the phone or the tv or the radio, but Mama Kate doesn't often sing right at her.

When it came time to offer prayers for those who need them, I asked her whom we should pray for.  We prayed for her sister, her daddy, and for each other; for her friends and their families; for the folks from our church, especially the Benedictine Canons we pray with in person sometimes; for those who feel badly; for babies; for people who are sick; for people who are artists (like AEMA); and for people who dance (like AEMA, who danced with me in the living room this morning).  I offered silent prayers for others as she continued to paint.

I've been known to ask her to go back to what she's doing so I can pray because interruptions during my prayer time can feel violent and quite unwelcome. Today, though, allowing her to pray with me was better.  What a humbling gift that my daughter wants to be like me.  How awesome that she is able to spring beyond imitation of me into her own creative expression with only the slightest encouragement.  I love it that prayer with her can take the form of songs and art and a litany of the names of those we love and care about.  I love it that prayer with her means being free to adapt the usual formalities to our particular context.  I love it that prayer isn't just a thing for big people or for small people, but for both of us together.

AEMA, "Prayer Together," 30 January 2014

Saturday, January 18, 2014

Be Brave

Have you seen this video?

(Sara Bareilles, "Brave")

This song shares a name with my daughter's favorite movie--about a Scottish Highland young lady who is an outstanding archer and a brave defender of those she loves, who also happens to be a princess.

I love this music video and that movie for teaching my kids about standing on their own two feet as girls (I mean, the baby hasn't learned that yet, but we are all on a journey, and right now her journeying happens in the form of a crawl).

I also love this music video and that movie for teaching me that it's more than okay to shed whatever B.S. I learned growing up about being meek and submissive, also as a girl.  And I want to be clear: I learned a lot about being meek and submissive from every corner.  Girl?  Weak.  Girl?  Quiet.  Girl?  Useless in sports.  Girl?  Cries a lot.  Girl?  Someone to trample on.  Girl?  Someone who should keep her nose in a book and play with dolls and leave the job of running things and determining the rules to the guys.  Good girl.  I was a very good girl.

I look back and I wonder if, as a strong introvert, perhaps I was regarded by most folks as someone who simply didn't had what it took to be powerful or brave.  I just don't know why that was the assumption.  Why not assume bravery and awesomeness until those are the traits I intentionally choose for myself?

I love women like Melissa Atkins Wardy who fight to see girls (and kids in general) differently--with awe at their capability instead of wariness about whether they'll be able to compete.  Same goes for sites like Toward the Stars and A Mighty Girl that seek to subvert patriarchal assumptions and practices (which are alive and well, but increasingly being overcome).

I love it that more and more parents are looking at sexualization of toys and saying that it isn't good enough for our girls.  I love it that parents are saying that being a girl is about more than being pretty or finding a man.  IT REALLY IS MORE THAN THAT.

Okay, I needed to get that out of my system.  Because I'm a happily married woman, and I'm also much, much more than that.  My husband isn't my savior.  He's my partner.  I'm not merely his pretty wife.  I'm his partner.  Pretty's got nothing to do with it.  I'm bold, strong, courageous, prophetic, and super-talented at many things that he and others are just good at--just like he's all those things in his arena.  And that's what we're teaching our girls about.  Gender's got nothing to do with it.  Awesome is who we are, brave is who we are, really intelligent is who we are, and we can do whatever we want.  My girls--my awesome, brave, talented, bright, glass-ceiling breaking girls--will do whatever they want, because my husband and I will teach them that their only limitation is their own imagination (which, in their case, is no limitation at all).

We'll teach them that we want to see them be brave, just like the lady sings, and just like Merida shows.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Baby babble and the remote control

On the way to church this morning, I heard AEMA making baby talk in the backseat--except that it wasn't AEMA.  Today marks Miri's first day of baby babble.  :)

Miri's been fussy for the last five minutes.  I walked away to get a bottle ready even though she just ate.  Apparently, however, all she wanted was the remote control--she's newly enchanted with large colorful objects she can grasp (beyond the usual baby ring).

Meanwhile, AEMA spent her third Wednesday in a row participating in her first kid choir.  She loves being with the other kids, and though she's shy in the choir itself, she's delighted to sing all the songs at home and in the car.  This Christmas Eve liturgy may be the first one she remembers.

Friday, December 13, 2013

Five Ways Advent is Like Potty-Training


 











Way #1: There’s a lot of waiting around.  My kid became daytime potty-trained last week.  We started potty-training her over a year ago.  Advent’s like that—you only get to light one candle a week on your Advent wreath, or open one little door on your Advent calendar per day.  The church hymns, if you’re in a liturgically oriented church, are subdued, like the mood of a parent thwarted by uncontrolled toddler bladders and bowels.  If you’re super-observant, the Christmas tree doesn’t come home till Christmas Eve and the Christmas music makes way for the usual dose of Muse and Metallica (okay, that’s the music at my house, but you get the idea).  “Fun” isn’t the first word that comes to mind in either case.


Way #2: It takes repetition—lots of it—to get the idea.  Without our many-times-a-day repetition of “Do you need to go potty?” our kid just had no awareness of it, and oops! There went her diaper (or, worse, on the days we were foolish enough to dress her in it, her underwear).  At my Anglo-Catholic church, we sing O Come, O Come, Emmanuel—several verses of it—every Advent Sunday to start the liturgy procession.  Wait, what are we singing about?  You mean Jesus isn’t here yet?  You mean he’s still in the dark, nourishing womb of the one who bears him?  Reminders of what hasn’t happened in the midst of everyone’s celebration of the it-already-happened do help.

Way #3: Rewards help.  For a while we used potty treats in the form of little gummy fruit-flavored snacks.  It didn’t really work unless our kid was hungry, though, so we shifted to a homemade chart for which she earned shining metallic stars.  And you know what?  Going square by square works!  That’s what makes Advent calendars a raving success.  My husband is especially fond of the ones from Trader Joe’s, loaded with chocolate.  I’m fond of the Jacquie Lawson virtual Advent calendar, which I’ve received as a gift for the last several years.  The wait for the lighting of each Advent candle on a wreath takes seven times as long—but oh, that moment when you finally get to light the next candle, multiplying the light that will eventually manifest as a bright, beckoning star!

Way #4: Taking time is kinder than a sudden total shift in reality.  When I first got the idea to potty-train my toddler, it was right after I learned that I was pregnant with my second child.  We wanted her to be potty-trained by the time the second one arrived, so I found a three-day fail-safe method on the internet that a friend had used.  The author of this method said as long as her directions were followed to the letter, it would work for any age, period—in three days.  She lied.  And this mama wept and wailed before (and after) admitting defeat.  The shift from Thanksgiving to Christmas (or the Fourth of July to Christmas) wrenches my heart like that.  Really, I need time to prepare, and I need the experts to respect my need for time to prepare—like John the Baptist—for the birthing of the Christ in my world.  If I take seriously what Isaiah writes, my lioness self just isn’t ready to lie down with a lamb.  I need time to step back, shut up, and listen to the quiet, quieting voice of God, whether as the voice in my dreams or as a prophetic voice speaking out to me in waking life.

Way #5: The final reward, after all that waiting, is a little odd to talk about if you step outside the immediacy of the moment.  The toilet is filled, the diaper at last remains dry.  There’s nothing else you can think about, and you can’t stop squealing.  If your non-parent friends could see you now!  So the Christ-child is born and laid in a manger of animal hay to become food (“manger” means “to eat,” after all).  Um, whose food?   And did you notice that the child got swaddled swaddled like a mummy?  Same way he’s going to be wrapped in the tomb thirty-three years or so down the line when he actually does die, and…becomes bread for the world?  Birth and death.  Death and resurrection.  Birth and risen bread.  Whoa.

Toilet-training is to Advent what Potty-Training Day is to Christmas--the necessary prelude to the main event.  And you know what?  The wait renders the main event absolutely glorious.


This post was originally featured at parentwin.com.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Inspiring

My toddler, AEMA, just read my name in the parish Advent Devotional booklet.  I asked if she wanted me to read it to her, and she said, "No, I want to find Anastasia."  I said, "Oh, you want to write one, too?"  Yes, she said.

So it begins!

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

Lincoln Logs Build an Engineer!

AEMA received my set of Lincoln Logs for her birthday in October, and since then, she's asked me almost every day (usually four or ten times a day) to play winkun wogs with her.

Now, I've been busy.  I've put her off.  A lot.  And she, like that persistent widow from Christian scripture, has importuned and importuned and importuned.  Her toddler voice, which often gets pushed into the background of my consciousness when I'm focusing on something else, insists on being noticed.

Mommy-daughter building time has become AEMA's pre-sleep ritual.  She asks me if I'll build winkun wogs with her, and I'll say we can build one house, and for fifteen minutes, that's what we do.  Once the house is built, she places one of her small-ish toys inside and grins, declaring the house to belong to said toy (usually it's Amanda, known to the rest of you as Tin-Man; today it was Duckie).  Then she removes the toy and punches the house, sending pieces flying across her carpet.  After she expresses her disappointment at the ritual being over (usually in the odd form of "I don't want to build winkun wogs!"), she crawls into bed, chooses her sleep companions, and says, "Will you sit with me?"

Tonight I sat with her, held and kissed her hand, and told her what an amazing builder/runner/climber/reader/singer/play-er/daughter/sister I thought she was.  Hubby came in, and she requested that he sit with her, so he obliged.

It usually comes as interruption to other pressing things, but I find myself loving the sound of her voice, asking me to play and sit with her.  She and I (and she and her daddy) are forging a deep bond, more mature and enduring than the bond of an infant and parent.  AEMA is remembering things now, and I imagine that she'll remember our Lincoln Log adventures as one of her earliest and fondest memories. 

I love my kid.  I love that she embraces all kinds of play.  I love that she can read (literally) hundreds of words, many of which are eight letters or longer.  I love that she mimics her favorite movie characters, Merida and Mulan, and I love that she is full of adventure and excitement.  Above all, I love that she loves spending time with me.

I don't know what AEMA is going to be when she grows up, but I know that she's going to be brilliant and passionate, whatever she chooses. 

Oh, and hey--today was her first day ever of going without diapers accident-free.  She's growing up, that long-haired, clever kid of mine. 

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Thanksgivukah Advent-ures: How to Celebrate the "Season" before You Celebrate Christmas

If you're like me, you're just not ready for the red and green and tinsel cropping up at Target, Starbucks, and the grocery store.  I want to go, "Hey, don'tcha know there's all kinds of cool stuff that goes on for a couple of months before Christmas ever arrives?"
I invite you to try out the following this year, not to ditch your family traditions, but to expand them.
Thanksgiving/Chanukah: This year, for the first time (and the last time for 77,000 years, according to one source, Thanksgiving and the first day of Chanukah coincide.  This year, as you finalize your Thanksgiving day menu, consider a few Jewish specialties, like latkes 
Courtesy: All Recipes

Courtesy: Food Network


(Pro-tip: matzo ball soup can be made in minutes using a handy-dandy pre-made dry mix in the Jewish section of your grocery store.)  When you and your family and friends are gathered around the Thanksgiving dinner table, share the story of the miracle of Chanukah, in which an oil lamp with only enough oil for one night lasted eight nights, providing ongoing light in darkness.  Chanukah is an eight-day Jewish feast of enduring, miraculous light--telling this story is is a great time to light the first candle of eight of your menorah, if you have one, or perhaps the first of other candles you have on your table.  Allow this to be your segue into a giving of thanks by each person around the table.
Then, when you awake the day after Thanksgiving, consider just staying home.  Really.  Eating latkes with cranberry sauce for breakfast while sipping home-brewed coffee and wearing fuzzy slippers is a far gentler holiday practice than trampling your neighbor at 3 a.m. to get through store doors.  Consider continuing your candle-lighting through the eight days of Chanukah, saying a silent prayer as you light them if you aren't familiar with the Hebrew prayers.
Next, Advent, as in, advent-ure!  
That's right--before you pull out your tubs of Christmas glitz, try cutting a few boughs from an evergreen (places that sell Christmas trees may give these away for free, if you don't have any evergreens of your own) and fashion an Advent wreath with your kids.
Courtesy: Happy Home Fairy
Each Sunday, beginning December 1, light one of the candles.  Sing a verse of "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" or "People Look East" with your kids. Invite them into conversation about what the dawning of light means.  Refer back to the Chanukah ritual, if you used it.  You might ask:
Why do we want light when it's dark?  
What are examples of darkness we experience?  
What are ways that we can bring light to dark places?  
Allow Advent to be the season of quiet, pregnant anticipation that it's intended to be--because if you do, the glimmer and dazzle of Christmas Eve's light and the bright clamor of Christmas morning will shine and ring out for you in a whole new way.
 
This post originally appeared at parentwin.com.

Friday, November 15, 2013

My daughter's first communion

Source: Wikipedia, "First Communion"
My daughter received her first communion yesterday evening. 

The thing is, she's three years old.  And she's not baptized.

A Roman Catholic child must be baptized and receive the sacrament of penance, usually around age eight, in order to receive first communion.  I remember being six or seven years old when I visited my Godmother's church, and when I went up in the communion line behind her, my Godmother told the priest that I "wasn't old enough" yet to receive, even though I desperately wanted to.  Right around that time in my life, my parents distributed communion wafers to the sick, and I remember sneaking into their room, opening the sacred case, and eating many of those wafers long before I received my "first" communion.  (Sorry, Mom and Dad!)

At my new parish, my toddler's age and catechetical development are a moot point when it comes to receiving communion.  It is enough that she has seen me receive bread and wine during liturgy and said explicitly, without any prompting, "Can I have some of that?"

That's what she said to me last Sunday after she had received a blessing from the deaconess and she saw me and others receive the bread and wine.  And as I carried her back to our pew, I whispered to her, "Yes, honey--next week you can have some of that."

Last night we took part in an evening liturgy with the St. Brigid community, a gathering of young families that meets for Eucharist and dinner afterward at St. Augustine's.  The dozen of us present there sat in a circle on mismatched sofas.  A couple of people chose to sit on pillows on the rug-laden floor.  My daughter started out cuddling close to me on the sofa and gradually worked her way down to a pillow of her own.  Readings were proclaimed by almost everyone in the circle, and as I read, my daughter sat in my lap and repeated after me.  We sang a chant together after each reading, and she sang along with us after I read.  When it came time to share of the bread, I received first, and then she did.  The bread was soft, recently baked, and tasted of honey.  I drank from the cup of wine and then helped my daughter dip a piece of bread in the cup.  She tasted the soaked bread tentatively.  I kept my hand at the ready in case she spit it out--she has pretty particular tastes.  By the time the liturgy had concluded, her morsel was gone.

I want to shout to the world that my daughter's first communion took place on November 14, 2013 in the presence of a few marvelously warm companions (literally, bread-sharers).  She didn't have to jump through sacramental or catechetical hoops first. She didn't have to dress up as a miniature bride or have posed pictures taken afterward.   Eating of the bread of life and drinking of the cup of salvation were for her the most commonplace thing in the world--and in the ordinary-ness, divine encounter took place.  My baby met God in those people, that bread, and that community's stance of radical hospitality.

When she was a couple of months old, I asked for my daughter to be enrolled in the child catechumenate at my Roman Catholic parish.  She became a catechumen, which meant that I was promising, along with my hubby and our church community, to prepare her for the opportunity to be baptized later in life, when she would be old enough to remember her baptism.  Her journey into the Christian life has continued ever since.  I don't mean that I've taught her piety (I'm pretty sure that's a long way off) or "how to be a good Catholic." If anything, I've taught her that to be religious is to learn rituals that teach her how to live in the world.  What I want her to learn, and what I think she will know in her bones by the time she's ready to choose baptism, is that she doesn't have to wait or accomplish something in order to be fed.  Jesus the Christ fed everyone who hungered, period.  If she learns what I hope she learns about the Golden Rule, then perhaps she will also decide that to be Christian, to act as Christ acted, is what she wants for her life.

At St. Augustine's, receiving the sacred bread and wine is allowed to be one's path toward baptism, rather than baptism being a necessary prerequisite for communion. I have rarely witnessed such a tangible expression of God's abundant, overflowing grace as I did last night, when my daughter was welcomed at the table, just as she was.  Whether she chooses baptism later in life or not, I hope that that lesson of radical hospitality always remains with her.  If it does, baptized or not, she will be a living icon of Christ's love.



This post originally appeared at Life. Love. Liturgy.

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Four months and one week later

I'm pleased to report that MLKA, aka Decimal, was born healthy, if not happy.

We're three days away from AEMA's third birthday, and we'll be headed to Chuck E. Cheese, by her request. 

So why I haven't I posted all the details of MLKA's first four months, you ask?

Well...

We've been a little busy.

Not just with the baby, although parenting an infant who has an older toddler sister is much more challenging than parenting just an infant.

Also, as it happens, we've moved.  Out of state.

Hubby just got a new job (a fantastic, life-giving, dreamy job), which is the reason we moved.  I no longer work at my fabulous job back in the SF Bay Area, so I'm in the process of making my own work. 

I invite you to take a look at the fruits of my labor at the following links:

My Website

My Main Blog, "Thealogical Lady" 

My Goodreads Author Page

My Facebook Author Page

My Twitter Page

~~~

I'll be posting more sometime in the next couple of weeks, I hope, but for now I'll just give a wave and say "Hi!"

Saturday, June 1, 2013

June baby

My dear little Decimal has made it to her birth month!  Sometime in the next thirty days she's going to wow the world with her appearance--we won't let her stay in any longer than that.  Heh.

It's fun to look at a picture of the calendar and imagine which of the days she'll claim as hers.  She'll be joining two other little kiddos being born this month, and she'll be joining Godmama Betsy, Auntie Liz, and Rabbi SaraLeya in the June birthday ranks, too.  In addition to all the birthmonth peeps she'll be joining, she'll be sharing her June birthday with the June occasions of Mama's baptism (June 6, or Trinity Sunday) and Mommy and Daddy's convalidation (June 19, also Trinity Sunday).  Today, June 1, is also the three-year anniversary of my start at my current job.  June is also the month of summer solstice, the longest day of the year! June is an auspicious month all around, I'd say.

So which day will she choose?  Hmmm.

Friday, May 31, 2013

Week 37 and the second child

Decimal and I reached the 37-week mark yesterday!  It's the first finish line for us--if she were born today, it's very likely that her lungs would be mature enough to function independently.  The closer she is to her duedate when she's born, the better, but as of right now she would very likely be able to avoid placement in the NICU.  I'm relieved to have made it this far, and I'm grateful for every additional moment that Decimal gets to spend growing and maturing inside me between now and her birth.

I've spent a bit of time wondering what she'll be like and how our family dynamic will change when she arrives.  It's hard to imagine her outside of the experience we have with AEMA, but the experiences of other parents dictate that they will be significantly different, if not in temperament then in interests.  I look at my family--there were five of us kids, and none of us was the same.  My brothers shared interests in music, but my oldest brother took to the guitar while the younger of my brothers took to the drums.  My oldest brother has always been an uber-nerd (like me) with interests in philosophy and musical theory, while the younger of my two brothers is more hands-on and engaged in his field of interest.

Look, too, at Meg and Jo of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women.  They're close in age, but Meg is attentive to acting properly, in a refined manner, while Jo could hardly care less about appearances and refinement.  They both love to act, but only one will own up to it.  Consider Jane and Lizzy of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.  Jane is modest, even-tempered, quiet, and ceaselessly gentle, while Lizzy--though she is careful to act with propriety--has a bolder disposition and is not in the least bit shy when it comes to speaking her mind, no matter whose company she's in.  When I look at examples of small children and their siblings, there are obvious differences there as well--some are outgoing, some are shy; some are resilient, some cry at everything; some love books while others hate them, and some can't get enough of outdoor adventures while others would gladly stay inside creating imaginary adventures of their own.

What will Decimal be like?  Her sister loves to be around other kids, is adventurous and athletic, is happy, and loves learning letters and numbers through stories, images, and songs.  She's actually quite well-rounded. Will Decimal share any of AEMA's qualities?  Which ones?  Will she be well-rounded in a different way?  Will she zero in on one area of interest and pursue that passionately with unwavering focus?  Will she draw more of her energy from within herself, like her parents, or draw it from being around others, like her sister?  Will she be rebellious?  Will she be sneaky?  Will she bear many secrets, or will she be an open book?  Will she be joyful?  Will she be loving?  Will she think of others rather than just herself?

AEMA was an extraordinarily "easy" infant.  Will Decimal be "difficult"--colicky? in need of constant attention and holding? a super-light sleeper? a finicky eater? constantly fussy?  And if my hubby and I find our experience of caring for Decimal more difficult than our experience of caring for AEMA, how will we cope?  Will we manage to hold our tempers and redirect our anger/frustration toward positive energy?  Will AEMA, who seems so excited now about her "little sister," continue to be excited when Decimal arrives, or will she become desperately jealous of her, as I remember one little girl becoming of her newborn brother a few years ago?

AEMA woke up this morning, came into our room, and climbed into my side of the bed to snuggle and snooze for half an hour.  She has always been and continues to be utterly enchanting to her father and me, even though she gets into everything and doesn't always listen.  In what ways will we be enchanted anew by our little Decimal?

Friday, May 24, 2013

AEMA whispers along

I've been singing AEMA the Lady and the Tramp lullaby, "La La Loo," since she was an infant.  Tonight, for the first time, she whispered along as I sang, after requesting that I sing it as usual.  She is so precious to me.

My labor playlist (a work in progress)

So far I have twenty-two songs (about ninety minutes of music) ready in my labor playlist.  If things go like last time, I won't get through the whole list before Decimal's born.

1. Give Me One Reason by Tracy Chapman
2. Cruisin' by Huey Lewis & The News & Gwyneth Paltrow
3. Lithium by Evanescence
4. Bring Me to Life by Evanescence
5. Drive by Incubus
6. Stand By Me by Ben E. King
7. Don't Worry, Be Happy by Bobbi McFerrin
8. Lithium by Nirvana
9. Plush by Stone Temple Pilots
10. Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N' Roses
11. Let's Get It Started by Black Eyed Peas
12. Fly Away by Lenny Kravitz
13. Panic Station by Muse
14. Moondance by Michael Buble
15. Never There by Cake
16. Somebody's Watching Me by Mysto & Pizzi
17. Crazy by Gnarles Barkley
18. Sweet Dreams by Eurythmics
19. Love Shack by the B-52's
20. Zoot Suit Riot by Cherry Poppin' Daddies
21. Breakin' the Habit by Linkin Park
22. Party Rock Anthem by LMFAO

Those are the ones I liked in my hubby's iTunes account.  I hope to add Jason Mraz, Maroon 5, and Owl City (thanks to Laura B for the OC recommendation!).  There may even be a Katy Perry song in there, just 'cause.  If you have any recommendations, shoot them over to me!