My son craves the comfort of music the way other kids his age rely on their blankets.
By Sara Martin
My son, Toby, stops mid-gait in the center of our sunny living room and begins to bounce up and down to “Birdhouse in Your Soul,” by They Might Be Giants. He looks around to make sure the members of his audience—me, his dad Tim, and our dog Harvey—are paying attention; that he is the center of our universe. Toby stomps his feet for emphasis and shakes his head back and forth to the beat until he falls to the floor in a dizzy fit of laughter. At 21 months, he craves the comfort of music the way other kids his age rely on their blankets….