When it was a child, the Art Museum was a haven. Huge statues in the entrance, ceiling height paintings, and magical modern art filled me.
When my son was born, I dreamed of getting to bring him with me to try the same awe – but with the passage of years, I hesitated. It has become Creative, emotional and curious child – However, like most children, it can be unexpected in new situations.
After Fourth birthdayI finally constructed the courage to bring it until the day of the Local Art Museum. Reducing free acceptance risks and pressure. I thought the picnic would succeed even if we only continue 10 minutes.
I did not expect to hear exactly What I need from a strange person.
I talked about the rules in the museum
In our career from the bus station, I prepared the best I can, while emphasizing the appearance, not touching, walking, and running, and holding my hand.
When we waited for the queue, I felt as if I was overlapping; Most other visitors were Clear retireesAnd there was no other little child on the horizon. I imagined that everyone was staring at us, wondering what my mother would bring in her right mind to the Museum of Art.
“or!” I extracted my son on my arms, and his high photography breaks silence in the atrium. “I need to urinate!” After getting our tickets and finding toilets, you are exaggerated, high temperature, and almost ready to give up. But then, I took a look at his beautiful little face, looking at a giant plate, and his eyes wide. It was free, I mentioned myself. I have already made 10 minutes – what is the few? I tried to smile instead of Flinch as people continued to transfer us on the stairs to the main exhibition hall, and my son accumulates more slowly than I thought was possible. At least hold my hand, I thought, when moving on one leg, revolving around the first landing.
I felt nervous when a woman approached us
After a few minutes of answering his first tour of the questions (“Why is this statue in a glass box? Why are the images hanging on the walls?
I set myself insisting on stopping at each plate and we read each complete painting; He was completely in the driver’s seat, hovering in certain pieces for several minutes and completely ignoring others. Instead of rotating in any kind of rhythm or distinctive style, we have darkened all over the room. When he wanted to sit on the floor and stare in something particularly interesting, allowed it.
It turns out that it is a smooth visit to the Museum of Art, albeit unconventional. I finally started to relax a little when I noticed An elderly woman watching us.
I almost crying
Immediately, I was guessing everything. She started approaching us, and I was sure that she was saying something about the amount of space in which I was, my son and my son in the museum – that he was talking very loudly, and I should not allow him to lie on the beaches or sit on the ground, and that he was colliding with my knees. Instead, she said these words that every father wants to hear: “You are doing a great job, mom.”
I was so grateful that I cried almost; I could hardly strangle a Thanks Before the woman smiles warmly on my son and continued on her way. For the rest of our visit – which lasted for half an hour – I kept hearing her words in my head.
You will never know, but her encouragement made me bring my son to the Museum of Art on a monthly basis. I even expanded our child’s friendly adventures but not focusing on children-and as my courage has grown to do so, my son’s ability to control his behavior in new situations.
Whenever anxiety began about others They think or feel frustrated by my son’s difficult behavior, but he, what behavior, remember myself, “You are doing a good job,“ Fears melt.
