A Kids’ Playlist That Won’t Make You Want To Crash Your Car
March 16th, 2010 | by Jane Rytina Comment
My children are 7 and 4 and I have spent the last few years listening to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Disney classics and Crayola Kids in my car. There have been times when I’d wake up in a sweat mumbling the words, “Can you feel the love tonight?”
I’ve had my husband quite worried.
But no more. I have spent the last year perfecting a playlist of adult music that kids love. It allows for about an hour of pleasant driving time. It could save your life, but you can thank me later.
- We Will Rock You - Queen (tempting to do the double clap and hand raise movement but not advisable if driving!)
- Eye of the Tiger – Survivor
- Today Is Gonna Be A Great Day – Bowling For Soup (admittedly this is from Phineas and Ferb, which IS on the Disney channel. But the music from the show is awesome! Album only)
- You’ve Got A Friend In Me – Randy Newman
- Real Gone – Sheryl Crow
- Who Let the Dogs Out – Baha Men (our personal favorite, don’t let your kids listen too closely to the words).
- The Boys of Summer – Don Henley
- Tunnel Of Love – Dire Straits (an interesting choice, you may think. But no child of mine will survive until 18 without having some appreciation of Mark Knopfler).
- We Are the Champions – Queen (motivational after a soccer match).
- Affirmation – Savage Garden (this was my favorite song when I was pregnant with my first. I think it reminds my kids of the womb).
- Ghost Town – The Specials (kids dig the eeriness).
- It Must Be Love – Madness
- Don’t Worry, Be Happy – Bobby McFerrin
- One Way or Another – Blondie
- Ghostbusters – Ray Parker, Jr.
- Jump – Van Halen
- Stray Cat Strut - Stray Cats
- Another One Bites the Dust – Queen
Want to freshen up your music collection with an eye toward family harmony in the car? Add your favorite adult song that kids dig in the comments below by midnight, April 6th, 2010 for a chance to win a $25 iTunes gift card (U.S. only please).

The meals come in three categories:
This was not always reason for concern. His first flight at the ripe age of ten days old was only realized by me placing his six pounds two ounces, tucked inside twelve pounds four ounces of blankets, on the desk of the ticket agent who had previously told me the flight was fully booked. I would need to wait four days for the next flight out of the third world country in which he was born.
But no more. He was now dangerously verbal. And as an attendee of a performing arts preschool, a miniature thespian so convincing that I nearly believed him when he explained one day that he was not my son, but a policewoman named “Taco.” They might just ask him the questions instead of me. And they might believe Taco, the three-year-old police woman, instead of me.
Who:
The Low Point:
Today’s guest is Holly Hughes, the author of
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