Friday, September 25, 2009
I find that music has a way of finding its place in our home. And so I've concluded it's meant to be there and I will just back off and see what happens. My husband and I -- once adolescents with music lessons and aspirations to play our way to fame -- have the relics of musical dreams scattered around the house. Though neither of us play our instruments much anymore you would be hard pressed not to find a piano, or a guitar, or a bass guitar, or a drum set, or a flute, or a something in every room of our house.
And yet, it always takes me by surprise when my kids gravitate to these "toys". Is it something amazing when your baby reaches up to the guitar hanging on the wall and starts to strum it? (We finally took it down and let him try to play it.) Gosh, it's not a bombshell that they would be interested. It's something they can wail on, screech with, bang away, even strum with skill without using their voices. I hear them. They feel like they are expressing themselves. But there are no pesky questions from mom. And no showboat answers from the precocious set.
Music is here to stay. Peace out, Colorado!