I've Got Rythm!
Red Rover—my oldest boy wonder—is a groovin' kid. From the time he could kick in the womb, he rocked out to music. Not to anything in particular, but to everything! When I was preggers with him, we would walk in the church doors to hear the organ playing and my little peanut would start I have been biding my time for seven long years until the day I could sign him up for piano lessons. So, when my neighbor across the street called to say her friend was available to teach, would instruct Red Rover at our house (Score!), and charged an exceptionally reasonable price, I jumped at the opportunity! Because of all of the At the visit, the teacher—a guy from the local university—asked Red Rover some basic questions: How old are you? Have you ever had lessons before? And, what type of music do you like? Expecting to hear a genre-type answer to the last question—you know, classical, blues, ragtime, jazz, etc.—we were both surprised to hear, in all seriousness, this phrase quickly pop out of his mouth: "Suddenly I See by K.T. Tunstall." Move over organ I want something rockin'-er! After this experience, I started noticing "What is wrong?" I inquired. "Hurry! Hurry, mom! Turn the station. We are missing my favorite song." He shrieked. "But, I didn't turn the station, honey." I said delicately and then continued, "That was just a commercial. They weren't going to play the whole song—just a snippet to show us that they like to play it on this station." "That's rude, mom!" He stated matter-of-factly. I wonder if they have K.T. Tunstall in easy reader piano books even though, as he informed me on the way home from school yesterday, he has now moved on to Estelle's American Boy. Oh! My! For another terrific post on the love of music, check out Lindsay's blog today over at Our Lives—In a Nutshell.
kicking the crap out of my insides dancing like there was no tomorrow. His bust-a-move ways inspired me to make music more accessible to him. So from the day he was born, I played the piano, placing his little baby fingers atop mine—hands-on learning, literally! And again, he didn't care what I played as long as he was cradled up against me with his hands moving up and down the keys. 
people who couldn't keep their mouths shut strong opinions I had heard, I scheduled a visit with the piano teacher prior to the first lesson just to make sure Red Rover was piano material and of age. what a music snob how much pickier he is. His recent quandary is over why he can't order songs on the radio like he can a get kids meal at Mickey D's. He doesn't get that they preselect the songs and are in charge of playing what they want, when they want. Have I passed on my control freak genes or what? The other day, he heard a commercial on the radio. You know the type where they announce the station and then play a music montage—a sampling of sounds, if you will. When the advertisement finished, you would have thought the kid had broken a major bone the way he cried out in pure agony. 
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