Child, the art museum was my paradise. The enormous statues of the entrance, the ceiling height paintings and the magic modern art filled me with wonder.
At the birth of my son, I dreamed of taking him with me to live this same admiration – but over the years, I hesitated. He became a Creative, compassionate and curious child – But, like most children, it could be unpredictable in new situations.
After his fourth anniversaryI finally accumulated the courage to bring him to the free day monthly day of our local art museum. Free admission lowered the issues and pressure; I thought that the exit would succeed even if we had only lasted 10 minutes.
I didn’t expect to hear exactly What I needed a stranger.
I talked about the rules of a museum
During our bus stop walk, I prepared it as best as I could, emphasizing research, not touching, walking, non-hawy and holding my hand.
While we were waiting online, I felt like an intruder; Most other visitors were clearly retireesAnd there was not another little child in sight. I imagined everyone looked at us, wondering which mother in her good spirit would bring a preschool child to the art museum.
“Mom!” My son pulled on my arm, his high voice breaking the silence in the atrium. “I need to pee!” After obtaining our tickets and found the toilet, I was over-stimulated, overheated and almost ready to abandon. But then, I saw his sweet little face, raising my eyes towards a giant painting, his eyes wide. It was free, I remembered. You have already done 10 minutes-what is a few? I tried to smile instead of starting as people continued to surpass us on the stairs to the main exhibition hall, my son registering more slowly than I thought possible. At least he holds my hand, I thought, when he started to jump on a leg, rounding the first landing.
I became nervous when a woman approached us
After a few minutes to answer his first series of questions (“Why is this statue in a glass box? Why are the photos hung on the walls? Why do people look at these signs? Why is this image so small and this large image?”) We started to visit the exhibition.
I prevented myself from emphasizing the fact that we stop with each paint and that we read each complete plate; It was entirely in the driver’s seat, hovering on certain rooms for several minutes and completely ignoring others. Instead of shooting in any type of perceptible rhythm or motif, we have zigzagé through the room. When he wanted to sit on the ground and look at something particularly intriguing, I allowed him.
It turned out to be a fairly fluid visit to the art museum, although unorthodox. I was finally starting to relax a little when I noticed a older woman who looks at us.
I almost started to cry
Immediately, I owed everything. She started to approach us, and I was sure that she would say something about the quantity of space that my son and I occupied in the museum – that he was talking too hard, that I should not let him lie on the beaches or sit on the ground, that he banged on the knees of people. Instead, she said these words that each parent wanted to hear: “You are doing a great job, mom.”
I was so grateful that I almost cried; I could barely suffocate a THANKS Before the woman warmly smiled at my son and continued on her way. For the rest of our visit – which lasted half an hour full – I continued to hear his words in my head.
She will never know, but her encouragement allowed me to bring my son to the museum of art monthly. I even extended our range of adventures adapted to children but not focused on the child – and as my courage to do, the capacity of my son also adjusted his behavior in new situations.
Every time I start to worry about what others Think or feel frustrated by the difficult behavior of my son but so typical for a child, I remember, “You do a good job,“” And concerns are based.
businessinsider
