Parents of young children occasionally indulge in a little daydreaming. They happily imagine Junior as the next great Yankees pitcher, or their little princess as a prima ballerina. It's one of those things that parents can't help doing - like moving cups away from the edge of the table, or looking around anxiously when they hear a kid crying. If you're a parent, you've probably done a little daydreaming, too.

If you're a parent who loves bluegrass music, you might dream of your child as the next Alison Krauss or Béla Fleck. Maybe you've even wished you could talk to the parents of some great musicians, to ask how you could encourage your son's progress on the banjo, or help your daughter get over her stage fright.

I have interviewed the parents of some of the most successful musicians playing bluegrass and acoustic music today, and asked them how they'd managed to raise such excellent children. This month, the parents of Rhonda & Darrin Vincent; Michael Cleveland; and Tim and Mollie O'Brien will talk about their experiences.

If you are currently raising a great musician of your own, please join me during the next three issues. We'll hear from the parents of Lauren, Dana, & Michael Alden Shankman; Sean and Sara Watkins; Tony, Wyatt, Larry and Ronnie Rice; Chris Thile; Alison and Viktor Krauss; and Ryan Holladay.

Carolyn Vincent, mother of Rhonda and Darrin Vincent: As stars of the Sally Mountain Show, the Vincent family made their live television debut in 1967; youngsters Rhonda and Darrin soon emerged as powerhouse performers. Carolyn and her husband, Johnny, were thrilled to watch Rhonda and her band, The Rage, accept the award for IBMA Entertainer of the Year. They're also proud of Darrin, who has been a member of Ricky Skaggs' band, Kentucky Thunder, for five years.

We were headed to Iowa, and Rhonda was sitting in a car seat - she was probably two years old. Johnny and I got to singing "Happy Birthday", and she was singing harmony with us! It just kinda went from there.

We were at Silver Dollar City in Branson, and out of the clear blue, Darrin just wanted to play the fiddle. Johnny told him he couldn't, because he hadn't ever practiced. He picked it up and took a break anyway. After that, it seemed like he could just play anything.

Rhonda's dad's family was all musical. Her great-grandpa and grandpa, her dad and his uncles - it's a musical family. Rhonda's dad was playing bass when he was 11 with a country band. His family had a radio show.

Johnny's dad lived a couple of houses from us. He would come down to our house when Rhonda got off the school bus. Him and Johnny would be there, waiting for her, to practice of an evening. They really kinda forced Rhonda into practicing. Her father saw the potential, and wanted her to do it. He could teach them how to play different things, because he played any instrument. She practiced a lot, but her brother hardly ever did. Johnny's dad passed away when Darrin was just two, so he wasn't around much for Darrin.

Darrin never liked school from day one! It was a task to get him to go every morning. He was so hyper; he just never was one to sit down. He used to have diagram sentences, and he just had a fit! He'd say, "I'm not gonna be diagraming sentences when I get out of school!" He could always pick up something and play it. He probably was six when he started going [on the road] with us.

Rhonda was a very good student. When we had to be gone to play, the teachers were always willing to let her go. They said she got more education on these trips than what she got in school! So there never was a problem. Of course, we would never take her out and not say anything. And she always had her homework done. She never was in sports or anything, and she never really went and stayed all night with kids. But she'd go to school dances, and participate in school functions.

Buck White was a big influence on Rhonda when she was small. When we were at festivals, he used to take her out under a tree and show her licks on the mandolin. He's always been somebody that she's looked up to.

The kids had a stereo. We've got a neighbor real close, and he'd call us sometimes at midnight to tell us to turn the stereo down. The kids would be in there having it up full blast! It was usually either country or bluegrass. I doubt they got into rock and roll, because I don't think we would have allowed it. I don't remember hearing it.

We would go to festivals and try to do a guest spot, and then we gradually started getting bookings. Then we went with the Lance Leroy agency in Nashville, and we were with him till Rhonda went with Jim Ed Brown. She's been at it long enough; she knows what she wants to do. I go with her and support her a lot, and help drive. But she makes her own decisions with her manager. She's done what she likes to do, and she's done well.

You've got to support kids musically, and have somebody work with them. Just keep at 'em, and if they're interested and they have that talent, they need to be around somebody who can influence them and help them.

I feel like we've been successful, raising our kids. Like Johnny says, they don't smoke, drink, or take dope!

John Cleveland, father of Michael Cleveland: The spectacular young Michael Cleveland has delighted bluegrass fans since he was a small child, jamming at festivals and having a great old time. His prowess on the fiddle, which earned him the IBMA Fiddle Player of the Year award in 2001, is a tremendous source of pride for John and Elaine Cleveland. Look for Michael's new CD, Flame Keeper.

Michael's grandparents had taken him to bluegrass shows since he was three or four months old. He was so attracted to bluegrass. That's all he ever wanted to do. And he always knew he wanted to play fiddle. When he laid down to take his nap, it was the Osborne Brothers. People don't hardly believe me, but when he was that young, it was bluegrass all the way. That's the only thing he's ever been interested in.

When he was four, he started going to kindergarten at the Kentucky School for the Blind, and they had a Suzuki violin class. It's a blessing they had it, because now, their music program is shot [from] budget cuts. If Michael had been born 10 or 15 years later, what an opportunity he would have missed.

He took lessons till he was in the 8th grade. He and his teacher never agreed on the type of music he could play. His teacher thought he should always play classical, and Michael thought he should never play classical. It was a constant battle. Michael asked if he could drop out. When he was a sophomore, he said, "I'm gonna talk to Miss Nolan. I need to learn more on the violin, and Suzuki is probably the best way to learn." By the time he was a senior, he was teaching with her.

His school was never convinced that he was gonna be able to do it musically. They really put the heat on us to have a second career choice. There was no way I could guarantee that he was going to make it, but if he was, spending time on another vocation wasn't gonna help either cause. I just felt that he needed a chance. I thought, well, if he doesn't make it, there's college, and it won't be the end of the world.

He practiced when he wanted; he did exactly what he wanted. He would do what he needed to do. If I'd sat him down and said, "Well, you have to practice two hours a day," he wouldn't do it. You can't force anybody. I think there'd be a certain amount of resentment.

One thing we said from the beginning was that it would never interfere with school. One time - I could just kick myself - it was years ago, and he was playing contests in Clarksville, TN. Mark O'Connor was the entertainment. Mark came over and asked Michael if he could play with him. A week after, he called and wanted Michael to play in Nashville for a benefit, but it was on a Thursday night. We told him, "Sorry."

When he was 12 or 13, he was playing contests with Chris Thile, Josh Williams, and Cody Kilby. They were booking shows; he'd hear about them in Bluegrass Unlimited, and he'd say, "Man! why am I not [doing that]?" It was hard for him at the time, but I think now he's glad he had the time to do what he wanted, just be in the parking lots and pick with whoever he wanted to. I was real careful that it was never a job. I didn't let him do it till he was 16 or 17. A person goes to work soon enough, and if you get into a grind, it's gonna be work.

My goals for Michael were usually different than some of the other [parents]. The others wanted their kids to get to work as fast as they could. We never matched a whole lot on things to talk about. Seems I was always at a different place than they were.

I worry about it sometimes. I feel he's isolated with his music. He likes mystery books on tape, and he has a collection of pocket knives, but music is 100% of his life. It's so much different for him than it is for anybody else. He's so serious about it, so sensitive. To him, music is almost a religion.

Amy O'Brien, mother of Tim and Mollie O'Brien: As the parents of kids who incorporated music into happy, productive childhoods, Amy and Frank O'Brien (married 58 years) are glad that Tim and Mollie waited until they were young adults to become professional musicians. Tim, of course, was a founding member of Hot Rize. These days he keeps busy as president of the International Bluegrass Association, and with his wonderful band, The Crossing, which has just released a new CD,Two Journeys. Mollie is a beloved regular on Prairie Home Companion, and her newest album, Things I Gave Away, has earned rave reviews. Here's what Amy had to say about raising Tim and Mollie:

My mother played the piano and sang, and Frank played trombone and banjo, but never seriously. We listened to pop, and lots of classical music. The kids were very fond of Peter and The Wolf, and they loved musical comedies. All of our children had to go to the symphony. They would protest, but I wanted them to be exposed to good music.

We went to see the Beatles when they first came to this country. That triggered their interest in music. By the time Tim was 13, he was playing the guitar well. He would play Chet Atkins records and get it down pat, all by himself, and then he'd go to the next one! He didn't have any lessons. He didn't want a lesson. I think I realized even then that he had an aptitude for it. He was very intense about it. But I'm sure I never thought of his going into it as a career.

Mollie and Tim were both good students and leaders. They had a purpose in life. Neither one of them disappointed us academically.

Tim was a great kid, an Eagle Scout, and a leader in his classes. He started a folk group in our church, and he was the focal point. Whatever he undertook, he excelled in.

They were in high school when they entered their first folk contest, at the Oglebay Institute Folks Festival. The first year, 1967, they performed as Hardship and Perseverance. They won first prize. In 1968, they called themselves the Katzenjammer Kids and won first prize. In 1969, they performed as "The Campbell Soup Kids," and won first prize again!

I think they went at their own pace. If they'd gone professional, it would have been because one or both of us was pushing them. If they'd wanted to be professional, it might have been different. But they knew that they needed to have a normal life. We instilled that in them: they must grow up normally, and then they were on their own. I think we were successful.

We encouraged them to do what they want to do. If they wanted to be a barber, that was fine. If they wanted to be a stenographer, fine. I don't think I put any notion in their heads about being musicians. We wanted them to have a good home life. The idea was to raise the children to serve God, and they were not going to get away with any nonsense. They were raised to read, and to be creative. They had obligations at home - they never left their room in the morning without making their beds. They were great kids.

[Frank and I] are both college graduates, and we wanted our children to go to college. Tim went for one year, and then he said, "This isn't what I want to do anymore!" He wanted to do music. I was very disappointed, and so was Frank, but who were we to say? We were supportive. I thought he'd weary of it after a while, because it was so hard. But that isn't what happened. He said, "Well, I want to go to Colorado. I know the words and the music to 250 songs, and I have to learn 250 more." That's what he did. It was hard not to scold him, but he was a good kid, and he wasn't going to disgrace us.

Frank would agree with me that in a marriage, if you both give 90% and work at it all the time, not too much is gonna go wrong. And that includes raising the children.

I am indebted to these folks for their willingness to be interviewed for this series of articles. Their dedication, ideas, and insights are inspirational.

For raising such incredible children, who have devoted their lives to making the music we love so much, we are all in their debt.