All the end of the school year activities are gaining speed. Last week the 3rd Grader went on the most adventurous field trip she’s experienced to date. I’m a bit claustrophobic and not at all a fan of caves, so when I saw that her class was headed to the Lost Sea {and a cheese farm, which would have been more my speed}, I begged the Spouse to go in my place. He thought it sounded like great fun and was excited to visit it after having spent the night in it with his Boy Scout troop thirty years ago. {Can you even imagine? There’s a word for that kind of experience, and it rhymes with “kale.”} He and the 3rd Grader appeared to have a good time both under and above ground that day.
Also last week the 1st Grader had her piano recital. Much like her mother, she loves everything about piano except playing it in front of others. So, we had to bribe her to get her to participate. She asked, in all seriousness, if she could go to Disney World for obliging us? Um, no. Because we’re asking you to play in a small recital with other beginning piano students, not win a Super Bowl. But, we negotiated a far more reasonable bribe and the show, or in this case “The Ghost Waltz”… went on.
I’m not sure what interest our girls will have in music or art as they grow up, unless intensity is any indicator. In that case, they’re all three bound for a career in theatre. All we know for sure at this point is we’d like to nurture an appreciation for the arts in them from a young age. This is no simple aim, though. Lessons take time, money, and commitment. Practice is hard. And, I have yet to find a balance between pushing them and encouraging them in their various pursuits.
For now I’m just glad our elementary school places a strong emphasis on the fine arts. Both of the older girls enjoy the projects they do in art class, but the 1st Grader is especially fascinated by the stories of the artists themselves. Last night at dinner she was telling us all about one they had discussed in class earlier that day. She said he was sick a lot as a child, so he spent his free time drawing instead of playing outside. Then she told us all about his most famous painting of a soup can. Her recollection of the facts about this great American artist were spot on until we asked her for his name.
1st Grader: “I can’t remember. But I think his last name was warthog.”
Any guesses?
Yes, Andy Warhol. She was so, so close. So, later that evening when she was telling me that “Andy Warthog” also painted pictures of Mickey Mouse, I just let it go. When the pronunciation of your German maiden name is slaughtered for years you learn to let things of this nature roll right off of you. I’m just glad she’s interested in his story and his art. And, for now, maybe we should just all call him Andy.
And, speaking of art… if I’ve learned anything so far in my nine years of parenting it’s that you can never underestimate the need for a good smock. Truly, the Preschooler should just wear one all day, everyday. I’m not sure what was going on when I took this picture. But, if interesting hair is any qualification for being a “real” artist, this girl should be well on her way.
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