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Joshua

 I had my doubts about music class with the baby. A big benefit seems to be social time, but the kid can't really socialize if he is in a Covid bubble.

Also, can you learn anything about music if you're *one* year of age?

But I attended lessons because (a) this was my husband's ardent wish and (b) a part of me was curious. That part of me was delighted--off and on. Being in baby music lessons was like stepping into an asylum. The babies stare off, glassy-eyed; sometimes, they shriek. Their nannies covertly check little iPhone screens. Basically, no dad ever, ever attends--and here I am bragging. My husband and I were DADS OF THE MILLENNIUM.

A teacher--with extraordinary grace and patience and energy--would dust off her tambourine week after week, and she would ignore the stratospheric thermometer readings, and she would work for her money. She would shout at us about galloping ponies, burping frogs, twinkling stars. Around the thirty-minute mark, each class, she'd get tired, and then we'd all just revert to Baby Shark, or Harry Styles, or (one day) Madonna.

Did my son learn? To my amazement, I think the answer is yes. He will now drum on his stomach, with just a little prompting. And I've been inspired to play Aaron Copland for him. Also, he "made a commitment" to a class, and he showed up on a regular basis. There's something of value in that, I think.

Maybe we'll all do this again, in a non-plague-era.

In the meantime, we're enjoying our new tunes.
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