“One forgets about parenthood. The on and on-ness of it.” –Violet, the Dowager Countess.
I know I’m a little late to the game, but I’ve been catching up on Downton Abbey before too many spoilers unwittingly come my way. We know Maggie Smith gets to deliver the best, most humorous lines, but this one left me virtually rolling on the floor the other night. (Season 3, episode 8)
It pretty much sums up exactly how I’m feeling these days, navigating the waters of middle school education and taking on extra work as a substitute (no, not much has changed about the life as a sub since you remember those days from your own schooling, except now there are cell phones), especially when I combine that work with the parenting challenges I’m facing.
There were great things about being an only child, and I’m firmly convinced that there is no perfect type of family. But daily I’m experiencing in my parenting life something I rarely encountered growing up as an only: sibling rivalry. It’s compounded by a day spent listening to my young students vocalize the same complaints: “She’s bugging me!” “He took the book I was reading!”
Aarrrgh! It just keeps going!
I’m learning a lot personally this year as I navigate these discipline stressors. I’m amazed at how often I’m required to be emotionally centered. Or, at any rate, how often I have to find the balance within myself to generate the emotional intelligence to deliver an appropriate, adult response. The teenager still living inside me wants to roll my eyes and mouth off some sarcastic response like, “Oh, yeah? Well, you’re ALL bugging ME!” But the adult in me knows that this isn’t really going to help anything, and it may make it worse.
Instead, I have to take a few deep breaths and engage some empathy. Do I know what it is to feel like life is unfair, even if the details differ? (Hello, yes, I’m writing a whole blog post here about how tough it is to manage all the child development jobs I have right now.) Can I remember how frustrating it was to sit in school with kids I just didn’t like? (Yes. . . [shudders]) Are there times when I feel just plain tired or frustrated and all I want is for people to be patient and loving with me?
Pretty much, all the time.
Dr. John Gottman is a psychology professor emeritus. His work centers around helping us understanding our emotions—how to develop, as he calls it, emotional intelligence, and then how to use specific skills to channel those emotions in the painful times, especially in family and marriage relationships. He says, ““Much of today’s popular advice to parents ignores emotion. . . Instead it relies on child-rearing theories that address children’s misbehavior, but disregards the feelings that underlie that misbehavior. The ultimate goal of raising children should not be simply to have an obedient and compliant child. Most parents hope for much more for their children.”
Georgia Anderson, a Gottman trained Educator, will bring some of these skills to our Kindermusik studio on April 21 at 6:30, specifically focusing on the language of encouragement. You can see the steps on her blog (describe situations using facts, share your feelings and effects of the situation, and show gratitude in meaningful ways), but the best part of coming to a coaching session is the time we get to practice these skills so they become our first responses to parenting challenges rather than the “wish I coulda done that differently” thoughts after-the-fact.
Yes, at Song of the Heart, we have Kindermusik classes. We encourage ongoing musical lessons through ukulele lessons and we continually broaden your child’s interests through other programs, like Spanish classes this summer. But we are in the business of educating the whole child, and guiding you on your parenting journey is one way we can do this. Can’t wait to see you there!
This little exchange from Mr. Holland’s Opus has been running through my head this week:
Principal: Each school in the district has been asked to submit proposals on ways of reducing costs by 10% in September. This is what I’ve decided.
Mr. Holland (looks at paper): The entire music department.
Principal: And art, and drama.
Mr. Holland: Well, congratulations, Gene. You’ve been looking for a way to get rid of me for 30 years and they finally gave you an excuse.
Principal: You know, I’m not as popular as you. I’m not anybody’s favorite anything.
Mr. Holland (interrupts): That’s because you’re the enemy, Gene. You just don’t know it.
Principal: BUT, I care about these kids as much as you do, and if I’m forced to choose between Mozart and reading and writing and long division, I choose long division.
Mr. Holland: Well, I guess you can cut the arts as much as you want to, sooner or later these kids aren’t going to have anything to read or write about.
In his well-known commencement speech at Stanford, Steve Jobs talked about dropping out of college and “dropping in” to classes that he enjoyed. He said, “Much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on.” Mr. Jobs chose to attend a calligraphy class during that time, and consequently you can read this blog in an interesting typeface. In fact, Tim Carmody, in a Wired business article, wrote, “Jobs’ ability to bring these two cultures [technology and the creative industry] together and translate between them contributed directly to Apple’s transformation from a computer company to a media company.”
Did you know that Mark Zuckerberg majored in psychology? It takes skill and proficiency in all kinds of domains to solve the challenges of the 21st Century. Unfortunately, our college graduates don’t seem to be getting the critical thinking skills they need. In 2011, a study led by Richard Arum, a New York University sociologist, showed that upwards of 45% of college students “made no significant improvement in their critical thinking, reasoning, or writing skills during the first two years of college.”[i] But, as Sara Rimer writes, “Students who majored in the traditional liberal arts — including the social sciences, humanities, natural sciences and mathematics — showed significantly greater gains over time than other students in critical thinking, complex reasoning and writing skills.”[ii]
For what seems to be my entire life, I’ve heard about the funding cuts that arts and music programs suffer at the hands of those with power to cut it. Richard Dreyfuss delivered those lines as Mr. Holland way back in 1995, after all. But we keep hearing about it, even in 2016.
If you’re reading this, I’m probably preaching to the choir. As part of our Kindermusik community, you come to class and appreciate the value of music and movement for our young children. Nevertheless, sometimes it’s helpful to keep in mind the bigger picture, when you’re asking your child to practice her recorder or clearing space in the family calendar to get your baby to the studio. This is more than just a fun way to spend a half an hour, to get out of the house for a break. You are helping build your child’s brain in ways that will have far-reaching consequences.
The other day, because of some research I’m doing on work-related matters, I found myself listening to an Asperkids podcast by Jennifer O’Toole, an author and the creator of the Asperkids website. Ms. O’Toole has Asperger’s Syndrome, as do her kids. I loved listening to her talk about the many ways our world has changed because of people who have this particular neurobiogical condition. She says:
“I do believe there is much that is awesome and amazing about looking at the world in a little bit of a different way. . . . I always say to folks when they say, ‘Well, I don’t know anybody on the Spectrum,’ I say, ‘Well, OK. . . if anyone’s ever read “The Declaration of Independence,” thank an Aspie. . . Ever driven a car, thank an Aspie. Turned on the light? Thank an Aspie. Had an x-ray! Thank an Aspie. The things that make life just that little bit better . . . are the fruit of those minds that imagine a little bit differently.”
Dr. Howard Gardner, a researcher and educator at Harvard University, theorizes that there are many ways in which we can be smart, or, to be formal, there are “Multiple Intelligences.” He has, to now, identified nine different kinds of smarts: musical/rhythmic, visual/spatial, verbal/linguistic, logical/mathematical, interpersonal, intrapersonal, naturalistic and existential.
When our kids are working their way through school, they can generally find some success if they have sufficient verbal/linguistic and logical/mathematical smarts. Other kids, regardless of whatever biological make-up they have, find themselves with gifts that are not typically valued in a traditional school setting. They may be particularly gifted musicians or dancers who can’t read very well. John Lennon had dyslexia, for instance.
So did Walt Disney. What a sad place the world would be without The Beatles or Tomorrowland.
I’m beginning to think this is one of the hardest parts of parenting (or at least it is right up there with an entire sleepless night): helping our children tune in to those gifts and giving them the tools they need to nurture those passions. Perhaps it is hard because it is so very important. After all, if the alternative is that they judge themselves to be fundamentally flawed somehow, where might they be in another 10 years?
You’ll notice when you come to Kindermusik class, your teacher will talk about following the child. If your son would rather stack the sand blocks than keep a steady beat with them, that’s OK. If she wants to watch the others dance, it is no problem for us. Perhaps your child needs a little break. Go ahead—literally, follow him or her out to the hall and rejoin us when you’re ready.
Obviously, you can follow your child’s lead when you’re in class. But Kindermusik opens our kids’ worlds and gives them tools to explore in the first place. Connecting with them in class strengthens their foundation and gives them the security they need to branch out. Learning the stringed dulcimer as well as a pre-keyboarding glockenspiel, for instance, gives them some clues about the instruments they might love. Exposing them to a variety of music styles trains their ears and their psyches to be open to all sorts of differences—among people, cultures, history and musical styles.
This principle of following our children can serve us throughout their lives, too. Well, maybe we shouldn’t follow them to college. But we can help our kids find their paths by letting them take the lead.
Kindermusik stop and go songs are among the favorites in our family. The anticipation builds as my kids and I wonder when the music will stop, and we laugh when we get it right—and wrong. I am probably not alone in feeling less amused by this little game when my conversations are the ones being interrupted by the absolute imperative to “Watch me right now!”
Impulse control is a tough thing for kids to master—and even for some adults. It requires so many other sub-skills like the ability to stop an action, to think about what is going on, to tolerate frustration, to change behaviors based on context (one’s behavior in the library is different than the backyard) and to have developed a few alternative behavior patterns like hitting a pillow or using words to describe emotions.
And it requires a particular level of brain development. Our prefrontal cortex is responsible for our ability to regulate any particular impulse. Interestingly, the size of our prefrontal cortex is one of the things that sets us Homo sapiens apart from other hominins, illustrating not just how vital it is for the survival of our species but also how unique this gift of nature is for us.
The PFC reaches full maturity by about age 25. Yes, you read that right. 25. Well after we have turned over our car keys to our kids, allowed them to vote, and sent them off to college. The only people who seem to have this figured out are the car rental agencies. There are some benefits to this late development, however. As human development author Kathleen Staseen Berger writes, “Enrolling in college, moving to a new state or nation, getting married, having a baby—all are risky. So is starting a business, filming a documentary, entering an athletic contest, enlisting in the army, joining the Peace Corps, rescuing a stranger. Without emerging adults, all those activities would occur less often.” [1]
Studies tell us that being able to control one’s impulse is a good predictor of school success. Nevertheless, it is a skill that, like bicycling or swimming, improves with practice. Once our kids get to school they get plenty of practice in learning to raise their hands and waiting to be called on. But playing stop-and-go songs in Kindermusik aids in that practice, and it is infinitely more fun for the kids!
Parenthood is nothing, for me, if not the process of learning how to hold in balance adjusting my expectations to the reality of my children’s capacities, at the same time that I love them enough to hold high expectations for what they may be able to accomplish. The idea that my sweet daughter just may need to bounce around while she’s eating, while also teaching her how to sit at a table and eat like a human being (is that really a high expectation? I don’t know!) I’m so grateful that I have had the Kindermusik community to support me in that journey.
[1] Berger, Professor Kathleen Stassen. Invitation to the Life Span. 2nd ed. New York: Macmillan Higher Education, 2013
Carol Dweck keeps popping up in all the things I’m learning, as a person, an educator and a mother. Dweck is a motivation researcher who has published her findings in a book called Mindset. You can check out her TED talk here, if you’ve got 10 minutes. But here’s a good, kid-friendly Sesame Street version:
Dweck’s research centers on the notions of fixed and growthmindsets. If we have a fixed mindset, we believe that we have an immovable amount of talent or intelligence, and there is nothing we can do about it. Conversely, a belief in a growth mindset means that, with hard work and perseverance, we can change our abilities. In fact, research, has led us to understand that students can improve their school performance if they are willing to adopt a growth mindset.
Dweck’s position has a far-reaching effect on education in our country, and many teachers are changing the way they teach students and react to their performances. The willingness to embrace a growth mindset has powerful implications for parents, too.
For instance, when we talk to our kids, do we praise their brilliance or their hard work? “You’re so smart!” pushes them towards a fixed mindset; “Look how hard you worked! Wow!” gives them space to develop a growth mindset. If our children are struggling, as we are reminded by the Sesame Street gang, we might choose to say, “You haven’t mastered this yet. You’ll get there.”
At the Kindermusik studio, we embrace growth mindsets. In fact, it is the very basis of what we do. We are not scouting for child prodigies in music educating only them. Rather, we believe that every child deserves music education. We strive to increase and strengthen the neural pathways of your little ones through sensory interactions with their environment like playing with instruments, keeping a steady beat, moving to favorite songs, or giving you time to connect with each other.
Perhaps the best part of developing a growth mindset occurs for us personally. We don’t have to be perfect at this parenting gig. We don’t even have to be good at it always. It doesn’t mean that we’re failures. It just means that we’re not there yet.
As Maya Angelou says, “I did then what I knew how to do. When I knew better, I did better.”
A friend asked me the other day, as we were talking about our daughters’ school performances, “Do we really care what Henri Matisse’s math scores were?” In other words, how do we measure “intelligence”? And how do we create an environment in which our kids discover all the talents they may have to offer the world?
Reading Ken Robinson’s Out of Our Minds, in which he discusses the importance of cultivating creativity, I’m learning that it has only been recently in our education system history that we divide the arts education from math and science subjects. Consider Leonardo da Vinci, whom we know not just for his Last Supper but for his contributions to anatomy and engineering. Did you know that a bridge, based on one of his sketches, was actually constructed in Norway in 2001?
Sir Robinson points out in his book that at universities, professors in the arts and literature departments are employed to write about other artists and writers, rather than to create works of art and literature. He contrasts this to those in science departments, who are paid to produce their own, unique research projects. We can see this mindset permeate education through high school and towards early education, as arts and music programs continue loose funding, and emphasis is placed on math, science and engineering disciplines. And then Sir Robinson follows with the natural question—will valuing these disciplines differently actually serve us into the 21st century? Will we not, in fact, need all the ingenuity we can find, as we try to solve global issues like climate change, economic growth and conflict during a time when most people carry in their cell phones or even wristwatches more “power and memory than the 1969 Apollo Moonlander[1]”?
Sometimes we see the arts as being something we do for relaxation or downtime. Or something that the touchy-feely types do and never really make any money at doing. But what if we could view them as a way to help people discover their potential? Or what if we can use art education as a way to help our kids develop certain skill sets (such as collaboration, visual representation, and kinesthetic awareness) that they can in turn use in their future jobs—jobs that may not even exist today, that we may not even imagine possible?
These are big thoughts when one is just trying to get through the day with a toddler and a newborn. When changing diapers and calming the temper tantrums, while trying to get the laundry done and that work project completed, weigh on us more heavily than the latest photos of Pluto.
However, this is one of the gifts of Kindermusik. Taking the time to get to class, we can structure some weekly time to connect, some time to focus on our little ones. But we will also be rewiring their brains, helping them to unlock their potential and fostering creativity skills that will help them on their middle school science projects and beyond.
[1] Robinson, Ken. Out of Our Minds. Chicehster, West Sussex: Capstone Publishing Ltd: 2011. Print.
Have you seen any of those “Difference-between-your-first-and-second-child” humor posts? Stuff like, your first child gets his own nursery, complete with matching bedding and hangers, while your third child sleeps in a crib underneath his sister’s poster of Ariana Grande.
I’ve been living it this week. My youngest girl has been observing her big sister work on some choreography for a homework assignment, and has now taken to asking her father, the moment he gets home from work, to, “Watch my dance, Dad!” Of course, it’s entirely typical for a 6 year-old to create a dance for her parents. But instead of dancing to Laurie Berkner, or Dan Zanes, like her older siblings, she moves to Shakira and Ellie Goulding.
But move, she does. Just like her brother and sister before her. And me before them (to the likes of Michael Jackson), and I’m sure my mom before me.
Dr. Daniel Levitin (I wrote about him in my last blog post, he’s a neuroscientist and musician), in the documentary The Musical Brain, performed some MRI studies on Sting, in order to understand exactly what parts of the brain fire in different musical contexts. In one of the studies, he asks Sting to simply imagine a song playing in his head. What Dr. Levitin noticed was that, despite not hearing anything musical, his body “begins to groove to the rhythms of Miles Davis.” (The Musical Brain, Christina Pochmursky, Matter of Fact Media, 2009, documentary film).
He comments: “The part of his brain that would be moving his body was very, very active, even though he was lying perfectly still. That points to an ancient, evolutionary link between music and movement and dance. . .”
According to the documentary, when we hear music, “the deepest parts of (our) brain(s), are ordering (us) to move.”
The evolution of dance goes far beyond Elvis. Egyptian paintings, dating from 1400 B.C., depict dancing, and history gives us many examples of dancing in Ancient Greece (remember Dionysus from your Greek mythology classes?) as well as in other, non-Western, tribal groups, the traditions of which many cultures continue to preserve.
Historically, there hasn’t been a distinction between music and dance, a division which we sometimes make today (like I am at this very moment, listening to the theme song of Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood, moving only my fingers at the keyboard, and not to any remarkable beat). As Dr. Levitin states, “Music is movement, for most of the world’s peoples and throughout most of history.”
This is not particularly news. I mean, this video went viral ages ago.
But I am fascinated by the idea that the connection between movement and music it isn’t just cultural, nor is it simply a learned behavior. It has deep, neurological roots that serve to ensure our survival and teach us the experience of human emotion. When we’re in Kindermusik with our little our, we aren’t just having fun lifting them up in the air, we’re teaching them to feel joy. We’re engaging our primal, evolutionary instincts to create a tribe and deepen connections through music and movement
Kimberly Sena Moore, MM, NMT-F, MT-BC, a board-certified musical therapist and neurologic music therapist, writes a great article about why musical therapy works. Among other reasons, she notes that our “brain is primed early on to respond to and process music,” and that “Children (even infants) respond readily to music.” Of course, at the Song of the Heart studio, we see this daily. (You can find her article here if you’re interested.)
Music therapy benefits a variety of people. For instance, cancer patients may use music therapy to help ease the symptoms of their treatment[1]. Music therapists work with kids who have Autism Spectrum Disorder, and military personnel who have PTSD. And research into the benefits abounds. For instance, Gold, C., Voracek, M., & Wigram, T in 2004 found that “music therapy has a medium to large positive effect” on children and adolescents with a range of mental or behavioral disorders such as depression and addiction. Even in recent news, we see that Gabby Giffords’ progress proves the success of music therapy.
While most Kindermusik instructors are not clinically trained or licensed music therapists (there are some!), they facilitate a researched-based music program that parallels many aspects of music therapy, including musical movement, improvisation and creating imagery through music.
It is no surprise, then, that Kindermusik educators hope to connect their program to all children, not just neurotypical children with a particular economic background. For this reason, Kindermusik International established the Ruth D. Anderson Kindermusik Children’s Fund. It “provides assistance to children who are physically or emotionally challenged, who are financially or educationally disadvantaged or who have lost a parent.”[2] The fund cooperates with Kindermusik educators who provide free tuition so that qualifying families have equal access to quality at-home materials.
Last week at the Song of the Heart studio, we celebrated We Love Kindermusik Week. My daughter was unfortunately sick, so we didn’t get her t-shirt until this week. Nevertheless, she’s been wearing it non-stop since. You may have heard your instructor note that proceeds from the shirt sales went to the Ruth D. Anderson Kindermusik Children’s Fund, and we were able to contribute more than $300. Thank you!
So who has received those scholarships? Here are two:
Joscelyn
As a baby, this girl’s epileptic seizures were extreme enough that her parents and medical team decided to remove half of her brain–with the thought that the remaining half would, over time, adapt. She has a lifetime scholarship with the help of Kerri Sox’s Kindermusik program at Playtime Music Studios in Florida.
Here is a video of her journey, and you can check out her blog here.
Alexis
Several years ago, Alexis received a scholarship. She was born at an unusually small size and weight (1.5 pounds, 12 inches), though doctors were unable to explain why. Although she didn’t speak, she was able to communicate with sign language, and loved listening to Rhythm of My Day, from Kindermusik.
Photo from Deborah Foster, 2012
[1] American Cancer Society website, accessed 2/20/15
[2] Kindermusik Minds on Music blog, accessed 2/20/15
Last year, my 9-year old son, seemingly out of the blue, came to us and said, “I want to learn how to play the bagpipes.” Consequently, I’ve learned more about bagpipes than I ever thought I’d learn. I now know, for example, that there are only 9 notes on a bagpipe, and none of them are sharp or flat. I’m also learning to appreciate that, since bagpipes are always “on,” the way to generate diversity in articulation is with a variety of embellishments, like grace notes.
When I first started playing guitar 24 years ago, I remember there being a little bit of a learning curve, in terms of getting my fingers to stretch over the fret board and developing some calluses on my fingers so that it wasn’t quite so painful to push down on the strings. Still, within a couple of weeks, I could strum a pretty decent version of “Leaving on a Jet Plane.” Of course, now that I have an electric guitar, I’m learning to value the dexterity involved in a complex guitar solo, but I think there is a reason that the guitar is the ubiquitous campfire instrument—you don’t have to be a virtuoso to get everyone to sing Sweet Caroline with you.
Not so with the bagpipes. My son spent 7 months just learning how to play a scale and enough embellishments to get to the point he could play Amazing Grace on a practice chanter. We’re almost to the point of acquiring a set of pipes, nearly 11 months later. Even after he gets his pipes, it will take several months to get to the place that he can play them with all the drones.
Several weeks ago, the Song of the Heart Studio Facebook page (a font of great information, and worth following, by the way) led me to this article from New York Magazine, written by Po Bronson. In it, the author details a research study that highlights how important it is to praise kids for their efforts, rather than their genius. Doing so leads kids, even those who may not be so “smart,” to choose harder puzzles without fear of making a mistake and looking not smart. They stick to a task and work at it more energetically–habits that lead, obviously, to other successes.
Research studies continue to tell us, “Organized music lessons appear to benefit children’s IQ and academic performance have a high correlation to success in school.” (American Psychological Association, June 2006, Vol 37, No. 6 Print version: page 13.) (And you can also find articles about it here and here.) I’m sure there are lots of things happening in the brain that support why this is so. But, based on my own anecdotal experience, I think that part of the correlation comes from the intrinsic payoff that comes after putting in the hard work of learning a song.
For instance, I’m noticing with my son that because he has to continue to work at his chanter, he’s learning to persevere through things that don’t come easily. He’s learning how to be careful and slow down so that he can get all the embellishments in while keeping to a steady rhythm. He’s learning the habit of practice, and the value of repetition in building muscle memory. In other words, an intrinsic reward of creating music functions as the praise for hard work, rather than for genius. Solving yet another math equation on a story problem worksheet just doesn’t generate that same emotional high.
That’s not to say that there aren’t tears and tantrums over practice time in our house. And I’m still on this parenting journey, so I can’t say that this one thing will be key to his overall success as a fully-functioning adult. Nevertheless, the fact that he dares to wear his kilt to school, he finds joy in a birl well done, and he has worked to save money for his pipes, as well, I think these are all promising factors.
I continually sing Kindermusik’s praises for developing the whole child. But part of this whole child development includes music instruction, too.
Proprioception: from Latin proprius, meaning “one’s own”, “individual” and perception, is the sense of the relative position of neighboring parts of the body and strength of effort being employed in movement.[1]
As Joseph Bennington-Castro explains here, proprioception is “more complicated than you realize.” (There’s good stuff over there, if you’re interested in the science behind all of this.)
If you’re in the Cuddle & Bounce class with your baby, you’ll notice that one of the activities we do in Kindermuisk is a bit of exercise—moving your baby’s arms and legs up or down, in and out. Of course, being a music class, we do this to a rhythmic poem that provides for language acquisition and a sense of steady beat. However, the activity also reinforces her sense of proprioception (how parts of her body need to move in harmony with other parts of her body, among other specifics) and helps her find balance.
If you go to the Sing & Play class, you’ll notice that sometimes with your toddler you’ll dance with a prop, like a hula hoop. Your child probably just enjoys playing with the hoop, but he’s also working on his sense of propioception. In this case, the weight of the hula hoop as he swings it around, or the balance required to step through it, provides a bit of extra challenge to his equilibrium, and helps his muscles interact together.
In fact, you’ll notice that throughout the Kindermusik years, we work on proprioception in a variety of age-appropriate ways, including the big kids, when they learn the Mexican Hat Dance. But why would it matter? Kids who don’t go to Kindermusik classes somehow learn to walk and run and hop, too.
I’ve learned in the last couple of weeks just how important this sense of balance is, and how targeting it as a specific skill and strength can be key to our overall health. Because of the hours I spend standing and walking around my classroom, I’ve been experiencing tremendous leg and foot pain. In fact, I’m now seeing a physical therapist. This week he made me stand on one foot while we threw a giant exercise ball back and forth, and every day for homework I have to spend some time balancing on one foot and then the other. I am genuinely surprised at how poor my balance is, given the fact that I am generally active. Nevertheless, as I’m mindful of exactly where I’m feeling the muscle fatigue, I can see that I’ve got all these muscles working in tandem to keep me steady–all those proprioceptive skills at play. Apparently, with things being so uneven lately, as the therapist explained to me, none of those muscles and tendons and nerves are working together very well, and this is both a symptom and a cause of my pain.
As is common to the human experience, I believe, when the system was working well I took for granted something I didn’t know I had. Now that I’m working to regain it, I appreciate what I’ve lost. I’ve also reflected, once again, how Kindermusik helps develop the whole child through music and movement. Targeting these specific propioception skills is more than just teaching our kids how to walk or hop on one foot—it’s helping them gain a greater sense of overall health and wellness. As a mom, I know it can sometimes be extremely difficult to keep working Kindermusik into my schedule, when we have so many demands on our time and money (including the increasing pull to do nothing!). Nevertheless, I’m grateful for the gifts that have come to my kids as a result—including those that may be happening while we just think we’re having fun dancing.
“One forgets about parenthood. The on and on-ness of it.” –Violet, the Dowager Countess.
You’ll notice when you come to Kindermusik class, your teacher will talk about following the child. If your son would rather stack the sand blocks than keep a steady beat with them, that’s OK. If she wants to watch the others dance, it is no problem for us. Perhaps your child needs a little break. Go ahead—literally, follow him or her out to the hall and rejoin us when you’re ready.
Carol Dweck keeps popping up in all the things I’m learning, as a person, an educator and a mother. 
A friend asked me the other day, as we were talking about our daughters’ school performances, “Do we really care what Henri Matisse’s math scores were?” In other words, how do we measure “intelligence”? And how do we create an environment in which our kids discover all the talents they may have to offer the world?
