By Megan Imhoff of IshMom
Of course you’ve been playing Mozart since gestation. I wouldn’t dare suggest otherwise.
My God, it took you weeks to learn to pluck Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 24 in C minor on the ukulele.
The only negative aspect of your young child developing their neck strength and coordination was that their head no longer lolled so adorably on their baby violin.
But—all the music groups, transcendental listening sessions, and arpeggios aside—are you sure Mozart is being properly understood and appreciated by your young child? Implementing these techniques and principles will ensure your future world leader will hum bars from Triumphs and Death on cue. This is handy for preschool admission interviews.
More Talented Sibling
Did you know Mozart had a much more talented sister? Yeah. Her name was Maria Anna, but no one cares. A victim of time and circumstance, she is mostly forgotten. Can you imagine what that felt like? To be Anna, touring Europe with her brother, but with greater acclaim, and expected to give it all up when married? To be Mozart, finding himself the biggest fish in the pond only once his sister was out of the picture?
Constant reminders of comparative failures and successes to a sibling will inspire close listening to The Marriage of Figaro. Your future Silicon Valley angel investor will be better able to recognize the longing in Mozart’s compositions. Sounds like the stuff of future prize winning essays, amirite? Way to bring the music to life, Mama.
Musical Doogie Howser
Mozart and Maria Anna were literal pint sized, eighteenth century rock stars. They spent their childhood touring in sold-out performances and charming nobility all over Europe. Both child prodigies: playing piano and violin by preschool, writing minuets by age six. Mozart could conduct courtly small talk in fifteen languages. Their father, Leopold, practically invented the overbearing stage parent trope. He was an OG Dance Mom, always demanding better spices and carriages.
Emulate Leopold Mozart, hustling and demanding like the boss mom you are. Volunteer to run the dance recital. Take it over and give your future Feng Shui consultant the platform they deserve. Don’t forget to capture every moment with your smartphone! The more Instagram-worthy the pics are, the more passionate you are about the arts. DM these moments to The Disney Channel and Netflix social media accounts. Be proactive, #bossbabe!
A forced, orchestrated childhood stardom could bring in momager money and a better understanding of a venerable composing genius.
This one is easy! Mozart looooooved a good poop joke, even changing the lyrics to a Trnka canon to “Lick my arse nicely…Everybody lick their arse for themselves.” If your future public speaking choreographer is currently immersed in scatological humor, embrace it! Buy those poop emoji pillows and scatter them about your duvets. Laugh heartily at the word “butt.”
When other, less visionary moms call you immature, tell them you’re too busy emulating genius to care about offending others. Crop dust them.
With these tips in place, you can be sure your young child is properly understanding Amadeus Mozart. Immersed in sibling rivalry, demanding appearances, and scatological humor, your future woodworking poet will shine the brightest at this year’s end-of-summer recitals.
About the Author
Megan Imhoff lives in the Midwest with her wonderful husband, two toddlers, and a bunch of corn. She’s a voracious reader and a life-long recipient of questioning looks. She can be found on Facebook and Instagram. She blogs twice a week at www.ishmom.com. Follow her on Facebook and Instagram.