The Sounds of Music

Oh, how I love our music class.  I don't know if I can even capture it in words, but I'll try.

I grew up surrounded by music.  My mom is a music teacher, and from the time I was about 3 years old our living room was her music studio.  I took piano lessons for several years, albeit reluctantly.  At the time I resented it, but now of course I'm very thankful that I wasn't given the option to quit.  Seeing how my mother built a very successful career for herself over the last thirty-some years, I can see why it was important to her that I pursue an education in music.  I've heard her speech many times to parents considering pulling their kids from lessons, citing the many proven benefits that kids gain from music education: improved mathematical skills, better hand-eye coordination, etc. And of course, that their kids likely won't be doing karate or gymnastics when they're 70 years old, but playing the piano, most definitely.

My girls were in their first music class at 6 weeks old.  Grandma had a bit of influence there, as you may imagine, and she was with us at every class.  We took a brief hiatus after that, I'm not sure why... perhaps the maternity-leave budget, perhaps exhaustion, but I think it was because when they were that little I felt a little intimidated going to classes without an extra set of hands to help, and those weren't always available.  Anyways, we returned to music classes at nine months old, and we haven't stopped since.  The learning that takes place - at our classes, or as a direct result of our classes - blows my mind.  I remember the first moment I saw it clearly... Miss A was about 10 months old, and as we put her toothbrush away she sang two notes, 'bom, bom', which we regularly sing as we put things away (instruments, scarves, etc.) in class.  Without any prompting, our infant made the connection, remembered it, and applied it to another situation.  I was sold.

I'm proud of my girls' appreciation and love of music.  They ask for us to put on music almost every day.  They can sing many songs from beginning to end, in pitch, with the correct rhythm.  And now I hear them composing, making up lyrics of their own, but to a tune we know.  It's fascinating.  I also get to see how my girls are growing and developing in a group setting.  They don't attend a day care or day home, so music class is one of the main venues where they have the opportunity to socialize and to build those skills.  They're fairly shy at the beginning of each semester, staying close to me (attached to me), but as the weeks go on, I see their confidence build.  They venture out on their own more and more, showing off their dance moves, copying our teacher's actions, and singing out loud in our circle. 

Music enriches our lives.  Period.  I could probably leave it at that, but I feel compelled to expand.  Music has entertained us through countless car rides, has brought us out of tantrums, distracted us when we're scared, comforted us when we're sad, calmed us before bed, and brought us endless hours of family fun, singing and dancing together.  Those are the moments you dream of when you dream of being a parent, and music has been such a big part of it for us.  Music is magic, it truly is.

Evolution of a Daddy

Over the past couple of months, I've noticed a distinct change in how my girls talk about and interact with their Daddy.  They've fallen head over heels in love with him.  Don't get me wrong, they've always loved him, but it's beyond that now.  The connection is so strong it's palpable.
For a long time, I would say my girls were "Mommy's girls".  They were.  I was the one who fed them, nurtured them, who cared for them for the majority of their day.  Daddy was definitely involved, because that's the kind of man he is (and with twins, there is no option...caring for two infants is a two person job).  But because I was off of work for one year, the majority of their needs were met by me,  so it's no surprise I was the one they called for in the night, or the one they ran to when they needed consoling.
Now, things have shifted.  I've always said that one of the best things I've done is to return to work.  It was extremely difficult at the time, but the benefits quickly became apparent.  Not only did it give me a break that I needed (which I believe makes me a better parent), it also forced me to hand over some responsibility to my husband.  To let him do things his way, not the way I think is best.  I work weekends once a month, and my husband has an uncanny ability to find kid-friendly events in our city.  For the first year of their lives, I don't know if my husband ever took both girls out by himself.  I don't blame him, it wasn't easy packing two infants around, and I was always with them.  Now, he doesn't hesitate to load two toddlers into the car and head off on any adventure, be it Home Depot or the Zoo.  It's still not easy, but his level of ease and comfort in his Daddy role would make you believe it is.
Now, when I'm working late and Daddy is home, it's 'Date Night with Daddy'. When I'm home, all day long I hear "Where's Daddy?" or "What's Daddy doing?".  When we pull into the garage and my husband's car is there the girls simultaneously cheer "Daddy's home!".  The three of them have their special games, their books, their inside jokes.  I've tried to join in, and sometimes I'm welcome, but other times it's an exclusive club.  It's a bit strange and sad to be on the outside, but I know better than to mess with the father-daughter bonds.  I know we have our own unique bonds too.
As I watch my girls fall deeper in love with their Daddy, I fall deeper in love with him too.  My husband is neat and orderly by nature.  The invasion of toys isn't easy for a lot of people, but especially for people like that.  He's definitely relaxed over the past two years, because he sees beyond the mess of toys to see the life and love our house is full of.  Now I love to see him fall asleep with diapers on his night table and a My Little Pony beside his pillow.  I love to see him putting the girls toy kitchen back in order, only for them to come along and discover it all over again the next day.  I love to see this grown man blow drying his little girl's hair, and fixing their pony tails and hair clips.  I love to see how he dresses them up and takes them out on the town.  I love that my husband's bedtime reading material, formerly GQ magazine, is now a parenting book for dads.  I love to hear him teaching them Spanish, and to see their minds soaking it up.  I love to hear squeals and laughter from the three of them echoing down the stairs while I cook dinner.  I love how they look at him with complete trust in their eyes.  And I love how before anything else, he thinks of them. 
I could go on and on.  We became parents at the same time, but not in the same way.  With time, my husband has evolved into such a wonderful father, and I'm so proud of him.  Becoming a father made an amazing  person that much better.
We love you!