The Writing Mamas Daily Blog
Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.
And for that, you are a goddess.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Rhythm
This morning my 5-year-old son, Aidan, was rolling around in bed next to me singing Hey Jude, when he unexpectedly tooted.
“Hey Mom, that toot made a rhythm. . . toot, toot, toot.”
And I had to admit, it did. It was actually a musical toot.
Aidan has always found the musical in even the most mundane. He has discovered guitars in the form of forks, sticks and corn dogs. While Michelangelo brought forth great works of art from within the sublime Carrara marble of Italy, Aidan brings forth music from ordinary household objects.
There was a time, when he was about 2-years-old, that I was a bit worried about his musical obsession. One day at preschool, over graham crackers and milk, he turned to his teacher and paused before he spoke -- as if he were about to impart great wisdom.
“Tracy,” he said, “it’s a long way to the top if you want to rock-n-roll.”
He is no longer as singularly obsessed with music, but he still hears whispers from a musical muse. He now performs in the backyard on a concrete “stage” and plays golf clubs, or sets up elaborate drum sets of pots and pans, lids and pillows. He really does have rhythm -- even if it sometimes comes in the form of a toot.
By Lisa Nave
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“Hey Mom, that toot made a rhythm. . . toot, toot, toot.”
And I had to admit, it did. It was actually a musical toot.
Aidan has always found the musical in even the most mundane. He has discovered guitars in the form of forks, sticks and corn dogs. While Michelangelo brought forth great works of art from within the sublime Carrara marble of Italy, Aidan brings forth music from ordinary household objects.
There was a time, when he was about 2-years-old, that I was a bit worried about his musical obsession. One day at preschool, over graham crackers and milk, he turned to his teacher and paused before he spoke -- as if he were about to impart great wisdom.
“Tracy,” he said, “it’s a long way to the top if you want to rock-n-roll.”
He is no longer as singularly obsessed with music, but he still hears whispers from a musical muse. He now performs in the backyard on a concrete “stage” and plays golf clubs, or sets up elaborate drum sets of pots and pans, lids and pillows. He really does have rhythm -- even if it sometimes comes in the form of a toot.
By Lisa Nave
Labels: artistic, Hey Jude, music, rock-n-roll
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