How many of us, when we have children, think that they will be what we make them? The terrifying feeling of responsibility that goes with a newborn prevents you at first from seeing that right from the moment they land, they are their own people. I was always slightly worried that if I had a boy, I would inevitably end up standing on the side of a football pitch, (I haven't) but I hadn't considered what things I would get to learn about as they grew up. It's like feeding on demand - I do activities on demand.
When people ask how my daughter came to be learning the bassoon - I find myself shrugging and saying, 'Well, I'm not really sure ...' The simple answer is, because it was offered and she wanted to. From the moment she handled one and heard it play, it was her instrument. So I dipped a cautious toe into the world of the Music Mom (Soccer Moms have nothing on some of them for drive and sharp elbowed determination) where saying you play nothing and know less is not an option.
Yesterday I found myself in Trafalgar Square at Maslenitsa - the Russian festival for the end of winter and the beginning of Lent. The Russian alphabet remains a beautiful and elegant mystery to me, but not to my son, who asked for Russian lessons several months ago and was greeted with smiles and encouragement when he tried out his new language on the stall-holders in Trafalgar Square.
Sure, I offer them my own interests - not always successfully, though my son has learned not to say that Joni Mitchell screeches - but I follow where they lead and I end up in some fascinating places.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment