Speaking of music, I got thinking the other day (always dangerous) about my childhood love of music. Isn't it funny how our childhood shapes the rest of our lives? Anyway, my mom told me that she used to play a tape of children's songs for me. She said that I would sit on the couch and listen to it over and over and over. Well, that got me thinking of the impact of music in our lives, and the kinds of music that we listen to.
So the next thing I do is pull out the trusty old keyboard and plug it in, determined to instigate an hour of music time into my daily schedule. My hour of music time was instantly taken over by my children. They had music time and I had a good laugh. They sat at my keyboard and pushed keys and buttons, laughing and giggling at all the funny noises it could make. Then they found the beat button and started bobbing their heads and dancing.
Eventually my baby had to go take a nap, and when she did, I got my music time. I haven't played the piano in so long that I was afraid I had lost it. It only took a few runs through a children's song (one of the same songs that I used to listen to) before I felt like I hadn't completely lost my abilities. Then I started to sing along to the music. I am not a good singer by any stretch of the imagination, but regardless of that fact, I love to do it. My three year old was playing with the shoes by the door (she likes to try them all on). After I had played all the verses to one of my favorite songs, I heard her little voice come at me from around the corner,
"One more time, Mom."
"What?" I asked, a little unsure of what she wanted.
"I need that one more time."
So I played and sang the song again for her, inwardly smiling and hoping that an hour of music every day would benefit more than just me.