Get Ready!

Tomorrow are school pictures...oh my. Ours start at 8am. Because that's the best time to ask a preschooler to smile after you've dressed him up and told him not to touch anything and slicked his hair down.

And a violin update. Our Little Prince has asked for-make that pestered us about--a violin. He talks about violins, picks out the sounds they make in the music we hear, mimics being a violin by rubbing his legs together...and of course when we took him to earxtacy in Louisville, he LOVED the listening stations and chose out of EVERYTHING he heard an instrumental CD featuring Bela Fleck (banjo), Zakir Hussain (tabla), and Edgar Myer (double bass), called "The Melody of Rhythm," recorded with who else but the Nashville Symphony. He loved visiting our friends the Dillards and listening to Jonathan and his dad play their way through the house, and he was undone at a recent fiddle competition in downtown Franklin (where, of course, he fell in love with the harmonica). In the car, he wants to hear the Bela Fleck CD or Alison Krauss and Union Station. At my sister's house, he grabbed his uncle's Rock Band drumsticks, and before I could move fast enough to avert the damage he'd make by beating the wall & furniture & cousin Reagan, he tucked one stick under his chin, rubbed it with the other, and smiled, "Look! It's a violin!"

So, we get the hint. Even now, we're trying to wedge our way into Suzuki lessons at the same church where he goes to preschool. And we've picked out the perfect violin, one sixteenth size, of course, so he can grow into it. Good grief. Just to make sure, before we start eating Ramen noodles to finance this endeavor (that's what parents do, right? I thought Ramen noodles were limited to college and first year of marriage!), I asked him again the other day, as we watched Elmo's world feature violins--"YoYo, do you still want a violin?"

"No, Mama."

Well, there you have it, I thought. It has passed. We've begun the cycle of "I must have this, it's what I've wanted to do my whole life," to be replaced 2 hours later with, "No, I never wanted that, I have thought about doing this for ever!"

"I don't want to play violin, Mama. I want to fiddle. Do you hear that there, Mama? That's fiddle music, not violin music. That's what I want to do."

It took Nashville 16 months to get to our boy, but it got him. Hard.