Preachin' Kindermusik

Last year about this time, my former colleagues at Bright Beginnings Studios in Sioux Falls had a booth at the Children’s Expo. It was fun and energizing to talk about subjects that I love (music and early childhood) with Moms, Dads and Grandparents, many of whom had never heard of Kindermusik. Sometimes I get a little too excited though, and sound like a preacher trying to get the congregation all fired up for the morning potluck (or worse, like the preacher who’s brought out his yearly hell, fire and brimstone sermon.)




I can’t help myself. Really. I start off with the basics: we are an early childhood music and movement program for newborns through age 7. We address all areas of development including cognitive, language, physical, social, emotional and musical. But before I know it, I’m off on some tangent about the crucial early childhood years and if you miss these precious opportunities for development, well, you never get them back. It’s too late. As Kindermusik says, “A good beginning never ends.” And well, a bad one never really goes away. Then it gets worse. I try (key word: try) to talk about the science of it all and the research behind Kindermusik. I began telling one first-time mom of a newborn about all the little parts in your head…."let’s just call them balls," I said. "The balls on the right side need to connect with the balls on the left side and with every year that passes you lose the chance to make those connections." The window is half closed by age three and by five it’s pretty much all she wrote. That’s it. That’s all the time you have. And it goes by fast. Blink and she will be in Kindergarten. The mom look horrified and scared and quickly excused herself from the conversation with a gentle, “Well thank you for the information” and left. I’m sure I sent her spiraling into a pit of post-partum depression since I basically just told her that her that she should just go ahead and schedule the kindergarten shots.

Another conversation that went somewhat better was with a Mom whose son was slightly younger than my daughter Emma Claire. We bonded over the joys and challenges of parenting. She was a stay at home mom and talked about how much work there is, and how, on many occasions, she puts her son down for a nap only to realize she’s spent no real time with him. I can identify. Coulter is back in school and yesterday I drug Emma Claire to the Y, Wal-Mart, Hy Vee and a furniture store. During one brief stint at home while visiting (and praying!) with other moms about the new school year, she was left unattended outside with friends. All of a sudden my friend looked out (which is easy to do since we don't have blinds or curtains) and saw, with horror, that her daughter and Emma Claire were going potty in the grass. Guess our neighbors knew what they were doing when they put in their new privacy fence. Anyway, at the end of the day, the best I could say was that Emma Claire and  I had been together. Quality time? Not so much.


There will always be errands to run, calls to return, groceries to buy and meals to prepare. There is never enough time for programs like Kindermusik; you have to find time. You have to make the time. I didn’t mean to spook the new mommy, but the truth is that in 5 or 6 years her daughter will be getting those shots and she will either remember with joy all the special time they spent together on the floor reading books; time in the backyard tossing a ball; time in Kindermusik playing, dancing, singing, bonding and creating a good beginning that will never end, or she will wish desperately that she had. I know. I have a 1st grader.

Home SWEET (or as Coulter would say, Suh-weet) Home!

We are in! We are in! Thank you Father of heaven and earth! We. Are. In.


Well, we’re sorta in. We have carpet. Fresh, clean, non-orange carpet and I am finding great joy in simply watching my children spread out and play with no splinters or nails to worry about. We have beds and three bathrooms; seriously, three! And while that may not sound like a lot to some of you, it means that ¾ of our family can go to the restroom at the same time. It means no more gas station runs (see former blog) or “go in between your sister” mishaps. We have great water-pressure. Our house was built before any sort of water conservation efforts (sorry, Earth) so gone are the sprinkles from our Sioux Falls shower. (I may be singing a different shower tune, though, as this luxury will surely be noted on our next water bill.) What we don’t have, speaking of showers, are blinds in the bathrooms and for the 1st time ever, said windows face the street. So every night, I turn off the light, get down on my knees and crawl to the bathtub. “Berm the Worm” who lives across the street may be nearing 90, but I don’t want to take any chances.

We have cabinets (complete with a hidden trash drawer) and we have counter-tops. The orange sink is gone (well, at least one of them) and in its place a nice big stainless one without a divider. I’m confused though, because people keep telling me that it’s not practical to have this type of sink when you have children. Why? Don’t they know that after six months of unscrewing the water filter, re-screwing the faucet, moving a two-ton piece of equipment over to the sink and hooking up a water-hose that I am finally going to have a built-in dishwasher? Seriously, do they think I’m going to be hand washing dishes with my little Kenmore mere inches away? Not likely.

Now that we’re moving on, literally and figuratively, I know y'all are waiting for my epiphany; waiting for me to tell you all the lessons I’ve learned and how, now, looking back on the past six months it really wasn’t all that bad, in fact it was quaint and lovely and I’m secretly going to miss the little yellow house. Again, not likely, but I will quote Coulter by saying I am thankful for the shelter.

Yes, we are in. We are meeting neighbors and making friends. Ross, the 5th grader next door continues keep Coulter abreast of the latest news and Mary Elizabeth, Berm’s 93 year old wife, has offered me eggs or a cup of sugar anytime I need them (although I’m pretty sure I won’t since you need neither ingredient for a PB&J.) And if all that weren’t enough I even received an invite to the neighborhood ladies night. Not sure if Mary Elizabeth is coming, but something tells me that it’s probably a great story (or a blog) in the making!