Christmas Music

Now that I've had my long winter's nap and am finally somewhat recovered from the month which was December, I'm beginning to look back with more fondness on each musical event we were able to participate in. By the numbers, between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I played 7 events with 10+ rehearsals. Our kids combined for 5 performances. Students whom Tom or I teach came through with 3 additional concerts which we attended and/or helped herd large crowds of middle schoolers carrying fragile wooden instruments through dark backstage caverns. Braden turned five somewhere in the middle of it all and we somehow managed to prepare for Christmas gift giving and send out Christmas cards.

The craziness of December always makes me wish we could spread the Christmas music joy throughout the year a bit more. In that spirit, here are some Christmas memories:

Anna was an Arabian tumbler in her school's traditional third grade performance. Who knew that the Nutcracker Suite had lyrics? And will I ever be able to play it again without hearing third grade voices in my head?

Last year, Jonathan was responsible for slaying the mouse king. He looks so young in this picture!

This may be the very moment when Anna's good friend is saying, "You look so pretty. Your leotard makes you look like a mummy with the head of a person." Raised by brothers, she appreciated this as the true compliment that it was.

Five years ago, I drug myself out of the house and held my one-week old baby in my arms as I watched Jonathan as Joseph in his preschool presentation of the Nativity. This year it was Braden's turn. His rendition of Joseph included many more wiggles than I recall from past performers. In this picture, he's leaning on the podium behind him which caused him to be momentarily still.

My most unique performance of the past two Decembers has involved accompanying my Favorite Opera Star at a local brew pub.

Jonathan and Anna put together some piano duets that they played in a church service and at a Christmas party.

Finally, the big kids were able to participate in the newly created kids' bell choir at church on Christmas Day. I already put it on You Tube for the grandparents, so I'll let you click on the link if you'd like to view it. It's good to see that all of those dollars spent on piano lessons are turning them into productive members of society.

If I were a resolution-making person, I would resolve that beginning in about October 2012, I would begin every conversation with a loud and obnoxious, "NO!" However, the truth is that deep down I would have a hard time parting with any of it and feel incredibly blessed to be able to do each one as well as to see my kids beginning to use their musical gifts.
So although I haven't been able to say this with proper feeling until now, let me be the last to wish you a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

The Knack

Braden discovered Tom's old Legos at his cousin's house over spring break.

Since that time, he has thought of little else.

Things that used to interest him, like Max & Ruby, school, BSF, and food have all fallen by the wayside. He only cares about when he will get his next Lego fix.

Sometimes he works on Legos all day long. In his pajamas. Personal hygiene has gone to pot. He even rejected an opportunity to eat ice cream with his grandpa yesterday. Suddenly it dawned on me. I've seen this behavior before. In myself. I'm afraid my son has The Knack.

Doomed to being unable to completely relax until he understands exactly how everything works. Doomed to having neighbors call him to fix their small appliances and phone jacks. Doomed to having one's children winning Pinewood Derby races, even though you are the only mom helper among many dads. But that's another story.

Can he lead a normal life?

Preschool

Today was Braden's first day of preschool. Since it's practically the first time in 9 1/2 years that I've been alone, you may have seen me in the store carrying on an instructive conversation with my grocery cart. I belive it's called "Phantom Toddler Syndrome".

We started Braden at the midpoint of the school year because we are certain he is destined for great things and that an extra semester of preschool will make all the difference.

I'm kidding. But we are pretty sure that one day he will make lots of money selling used cars. Here's why.

Braden: "What do you want to play with me today?"

Me: "I'm sorry, but I'm [insert stimulating and productive domestic activity here], you need to play by yourself for awhile."

Braden: "Let's play Candyland!"

Me: "Sorry, not right now."

Braden: "Well, do you want to be the red guy or the blue guy?"

Me: "I can't play right now."

Braden: "So you can be the red guy."

Me: "I really can't..."

Braden: "All you have to do is draw one card. I'll move your guy."

Me: "Okay, just one card."

Braden (1/2 hour later): "I won again! Now let's play The Ladybug Game!"

Me: "I'm sorry, I really have to get back to [aforementioned activity]."

Braden: "Do you want to be Ella Yellow or Tommy Teal?"

...

The bottom line is that when faced with his powers of persuation, I am rendered helpless. This is why he needs to go to school. Let someone else be subjected to his charms for a few hours each week! I really need to finish [that activity]!

Fine Arts

Last Saturday was the fine arts festival at the kids' school. When the note came home and I asked if anyone wanted to play the piano, I received one resounding "No!" and one resounding "Yes!".

The yes was from Anna who is very quiet at school. Her desire to play surprised her teachers, but not us. The world is just beginning to know the real Anna.

The kids started taking lessons in June. I was hesitant to start because I knew how much work would be involved for all of us. I also had a hard time justifying paying for a piano teacher when both my husband and I play. But after talking to an excellent violinist from the symphony who takes her kids to a violin teacher, I realized the benefit of external motivation all around. So far, so good! Their teacher gives them much more work than I would and it's great to have his voice added to their musical training. Unfortunately or fortunately for the kids, my husband or I sit by them almost every time they practice. It's a bit like having a lesson every day, which has allowed them to progress quickly.

On the downside, there are weeks, including this one, when I'm practicing 2-3 hours of violin and then sitting for another hour at the piano. No wonder the house is a mess!

Of course, no post about fine arts would be complete without dance. And very few posts on this blog are complete without Braden.

He gets his moves from his daddy.

Happy Birthday Benjamin!

Happy Birthday to Ben a few days late! We miss you and hope you're having a good time with your Grandma and Grandpa W. in Africa. This video was made around the time of Kira and Ella's birthdays, but for some reason Braden was determined to use Ben's name.



While I was looking through long-neglected videos and pictures for this long-neglected blog, I also found this footage of Braden at dad's house giving Fred Flintstone a run for his money.



More later. Hopefully not too much later!

Braden's Therapy

Compared to the other kids, Braden has had a rather calm childhood so far: no new babies to compete for mom's attention, no cross country moves, no pack of neighborly chihuahuas disrupting his tranquil back yard play time, no 3-lane highway driving, etc. Perhaps for these reasons he is the most well adjusted 2 1/2 year old to ever join our family, with one exception: the dreaded car wash.

The car wash terrifies him to the point that the road salt ate away at the bottom of my car well into May before I had a chance to go through the car wash without him. As soon as I start entering the code, he starts screaming at the top of his lungs and doesn't stop until I drive out. Then he says, "All done!" and continues with life as if nothing happened.

However, on our recent drive to South Carolina, we realized that even when he is not screaming in the car wash, he is thinking about car washes. He sees them everywhere. Auto repair shops, loading docks, and stores with big front windows all prompt a little voice from the back seat saying, "I see ca was. I see tree ca wasis!"

Braden's favorite book right now is called, "Clifford and the Bath", where Clifford, due to his immense size, must bathe in - you guessed it - a car wash.

And like a 3D ink blot test, everything built out of Legos or blocks is not a pirate ship, airplane or Bat Cave, but a car wash. Most of us have just given in and started building car washes. Below is a particularly good one made by Tom.


I haven't yet decided whether this car wash obsession is therapeutic or just plain weird. But since he remains well adjusted in the rest of his life, for now I'm voting therapeutic.

It's the Big Kids' Turn

Since I've already been doing too much talking this week, I'll let my big kids have a chance. First we have a lovely tree created by Anna in kindergarten:

And next a poem written by Jonathan in first grade:

Black

black is....
Night sky above sleepy peoples' houses.
Zebra's stripes in the bright sun.
Girls' hair swishing in the fast wind.
Deep, dark caves with spooky, tiny things.

black is...
TV faces.
Bats hiding in your attic.
Dark bear's hair.
Black is everything I said.
~

Me and My Big Mouth

About a month ago, on the evening of the pinewood derby race at church, I approached a man to whom I had previously only spoken 2-3 times and said, "I saw you leaving the Y the other day. That's not doing much for your flabby physique!"

The shock that you may feel regarding this comment is nothing compared to the shock displayed by my husband when I casually repeated the conversation later that night. He is well aware of my introverted tendencies and the fact that when I'm not feeling comfortable in a social situation, I sometimes blurt out dumb things. However, this comment went way beyond anything in my history.

And now, to borrow a phrase from grandma's beloved Paul Harvey, the rest of the story....

A few months prior to the pinewood derby, the aforementioned gentleman, along with his wife and another couple, had presented an evening of comedy skits, written completely by him. More than campfire skits, these were intelligent, creative and genuinely funny.

Once while the other actors were preparing for the next skit, this man came out and informed us of the lengths he goes through to avoid infidelity in his marriage. Among the steps he mentioned were, "developing annoying habits and personality quirks", "rarely showering", and finally "cultivating a flabby physique". Due to these efforts, he said, no woman had approached him in years.

A few days later, I saw him leaving the Y. The previously mentioned thought ran through my head and, at the pinewood derby race, out of my mouth. My phrase, "not doing much" for his flabby physique was intended to mean, "not helping to cultivate" his flab rather than "not eliminating". However, since Tom hadn't understood the reference, I thought that in the interest of preserving relationships, I had better verify that this man had understood it as intended.

A few days later, I saw his wife around town and described the conversation to her. After a good laugh, she said that she'd check with her husband. And yesterday, in the middle of the stairs at church, her husband told me that rather than offending, I had been 100% correct. The Y was not helping his flabby physique one bit.

As to what he may have meant by that, I have finally learned my lesson upon this subject. I will keep my mouth closed, not daring to either inquire or comment.

The Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Fortune

I have heard it said that in our children, pieces of our heart walk around outside of our bodies. I have found this to be too true.

Jonathan is like me in that when something important happens, his first inclination is to tell someone else about it. Only then does he feel like it really happened. Upon returning home from school or any activity, he always needs some talk time before moving on with life. I appreciate this, because I love learning what's going on in his heart.

I am also aware of how much of his life I miss. Recently on a day off, I took Jonathan to his former school's recess to visit his old classmates. I sat with the teachers at the edge of the gym, watching the children play what looked like an ordinary game of basketball.

In the car on the way home, I asked Jonathan if he had had a chance to talk to his friend Abby. Abby was one of his favorite kindergarten friends due to a shared love of chasing games and a common understanding regarding all things silly.

Jonathan replied that during the course of our visit, Abby had approached him a number of times trying to find out which girl in the class he liked best, returning to her giggling friends each time he said, "I love everybody." How much I missed! And I was sitting right there!

More difficult for this mama grizzly bear is that Jonathan's classmates have grown sophisticated enough to inflict real pain by their words and actions. Yesterday at recess, a boy Jonathan admires told him that if Jonathan would give him his basketball, this boy would let him be on his team. Instead, he took the ball away and only allowed his other friends to play.

This little incident probably affected me more than Jonathan. How mean! How unjust! I imagined myself stomping down to the playground and giving this 7-year old punk a piece of my mind.

It quickly brought back memories of some of my own school injustices. It also makes me think of all the moments he will face without me, trials and pain more scarring and consequential.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes.

How much does a mom protect? When does she step in? When does she let him handle it on his own? How does she teach him compassion toward others?

Once again I can only depend on a Father much wiser, kinder, and compassionate than myself, who knows exactly how to help us grow through trials, and is beside us all the way.

Pillow Talk

Occasionally throughout our marriage Tom has said funny things in his sleep, the most infamous being during our first months of marriage, when I came to bed to hear him say, "Stop holding that axe over my head!" It was at that point that I decided not to read too much into anything he said while sleeping.

Because he also has a habit of answering the phone while asleep, he has been known to make plans or agree to large purchases without remembering. Once when my friend called our apartment to ask if our power was back on, he said, "I don't know" and hung up on her.

He also teaches in his sleep. I have been shocked into wakefulness by the command, "Sit down and listen!"

Oh, the stories!

His most recent sleep-talk episode took place in the fall. It still makes us laugh, so I thought it worthy of recording. I was coming to bed after him, not unusual with my night-owl habits. Somehow that night I made more noise than normal, dropping and kicking things in the dark. He lifted his head and said to me, "Is Big Foot coming to the Promised Land?" At first I thought he was joking, because it almost fit the circumstances. I laughed and said, "What? You aren't making any sense!" He said, "Yes I am because Big Foot has Big Feet and the Promised Land is Israel." When I told him that he was going to laugh about this in the morning, he looked at me, incredulous at my lack of understanding, put his head down and was immediately deeply asleep.

If I had to guess, he meant to say something like, "Could you be any noisier coming to bed?" But what he actually said was much more entertaining.

Happy Birthday Lianne!

Here are some birthday greetings for our American-African cousin Lianne.

We hope you had a great day! Braden has a song for you too.

Happy Birthday, 7-year old!

In a Nutshell

One can hardly be called a blogger when so much time elapses between posts, but sometime around Halloween the world inexplicably started moving faster. Here's a photo review of the missing months.

During a high school football game, Anna was a cheerleader. Needless to say, she loved it.

Halloween was crazy fun!

One of the three trees in our yard finally produced enough leaves for autumnal pictures.

Seventy shots later, we managed to get a picture of almost everyone looking at the camera.

The neighbors had a new baby.

Braden commandeered Anna's baby dolls.

Anna and one of her best buds sang in their school Christmas program. In total, our family members had 9 musical Christmas events in December.

We said a sad goodbye to my Great Uncle Carl.

Christmas was quiet but nice.

As always, the boxes were the best presents.

Jonathan had a scary bike accident, but is doing well 15 stitches later.

Tom and I had a great trip to Chicago, sans kids.

And it snowed, and snowed, and snowed!

I'll Stop the World and Melt With You

Before having children, I subconsciously assumed that my children would share most of my characteristics, both in appearance and temperament. Then Anna was born. Fair skinned, with blue eyes that stuck around past the 6-month mark, I was surprised that someone looking like her came from me. We joked that she must have been switched at birth, as Tom's eyes are green and mine are brown, but agreed that if that had really happened, we got the better end of the deal. She was a sweet, easy baby.

As Anna gets older, I'm finding that we differ in more than appearance. My boys, so far, are pretty easy for me to understand. Jonathan responds to situations pretty much as I would. Braden requires regular feeding, naps, books, diaper changes, and cuddling and he's set. With Anna, I have to work hard to figure out what is going on inside that little person.

I like this picture because it captures many aspects of her personality. Creative and whimsical, she is her own person. She's smart and articulate, correctly telling my speech-therapist mom which kids in her kindergarten class need speech therapy and which sounds they need to work on. She is brave when faced with new situations. On her first day of 3-year old preschool, she walked away from me without a goodbye and has hardly looked back. She is friendly and happy. My neighbor has described Anna as "flitting through life". She thinks that "Anna is all love."

Right now, one of Anna's more overwhelming characteristics is that she is VERY EMOTIONAL. Unfortunately, she finds herself born into a family of analytical thinkers, whose emotions, although present, are easily overruled by logic most of the time. Anna is 5 1/2, so I'm not expecting Dr. Spock, but having hung out with lots of other 5-year olds recently, I still believe Anna falls on the VERY EMOTIONAL end of the spectrum. Just today I can think of 5 separate crying incidents, not to mention episodes of unbridled anger, silliness, and joy.

My first inclination when faced with these sob fests is to tell her to pull herself together immediately. I want the drama to end quickly, especially when we're in public. But after the heat of the moment, I realize that this response is typically based on my own anger or embarrassment. So I pray for the wisdom to deal with this in a way that won't send her to counseling 20 years from now. I still haven't found a great response. Sympathy and empathy evoke more and more tears. Consequences evoke more and more tears. The only thing that seems to work is giving her the time she needs to fall apart.

I can already tell that this complex little girl is going to stretch me way beyond my comfort zone and bring me to my knees. She's one of the the best things that have ever happened to me.

The Braden Show

And now, ladies and gentlemen, for your viewing pleasure we have "The Braden Show". In our first act, Braden will be joining the family in a mealtime prayer.

Our show continues with Braden hurling himself toward his mom's stomach at death defying speeds! Finally, we conclude with Braden's amazing rendition of The Animal Sounds. Note: No toddlers were injured during the making of this film. Not too badly anyway.

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming.

We're Number Two!

Anna and Jonathan are over half way through soccer season so it's time for the scouting report. 

Coincidentally, both kids wear the same color and number this season, allowing us to address them collectively as in "Hey, number twos, put on your shin guards and get out to the car! We're late!"

Anna loves playing and is occasionally aware that there is a soccer game going on around her. During one game she perfected her "Sound of Music" twirl. Fortunately, the competition part is very low-key at her age. They don't use goalies or keep score. And she loves her friends.

Jonathan is a homebody and complains before every game, but inevitably enjoys it once he's there. He has improved immensely since last season when he almost never touched the ball. Taking after his mom, he has not necessarily shown signs of being a natural athlete, but most of the time he works hard and does his best which are great life lessons.

Once, chatting on the sidelines, I learned that a couple of moms from Jonathan's team each had two engineering degrees and an MBA. Boy did I feel like a slacker with one measly engineering degree! The coach is also an engineer. I think these engineering-type parents contribute to the intensity of the boys on the team, making their games really fun to watch.  The boys also love it.

During last Saturday's game Jonathan scored his first goal ever. Afterward he acted completely unfazed by this accomplishment, unlike his parents.  We were the ones jumping up and down on the sidelines, handing out cigars and yelling, "That's my boy!"

Tonight with a 4-2 lead, he played goalie for the first time, making the 4th quarter very nerve-wracking. Again, he seemed unfazed, even when one ball got past him.

One of his best friends was on the other team, so Jonathan told us afterward that he was never very sad when the other team scored. And when Jonathan's team won, he told his friend that he thought both teams were equally good. We've been working on the whole boasting thing recently and we're thankful that the right thing came out of his mouth this time.

However, if he scores any more goals, I may need some anti-boasting lessons myself!

Back to School

Well, we've almost made it through 3 days of school and it seems like everyone has adjusted remarkably.  The big kids are tired but happy in their classes.  On the first day, Jonathan reported that his teacher was, "as grumpy as an old grizzly bear."  It took us a moment to realize that he was joking.

The first morning was rough for me.  Upon arrival at Jonathan's new school, it became clear that I would not easily find a parking spot, particularly one that would give me enough time to walk him to his class, walk back to the car with Anna and Braden, and get to Anna's school on time.  So I ended up dropping Jonathan off with the parking lot attendant.  As I drove away, I was really sad about how things had unfolded and after about a mile made the decision that Anna would be a little late on her first day so that we could send Jonathan off properly.  We went back to his school and found him all alone on a bench outside the first grade doorway:

His class was lining up right around the corner, but he didn't know.  We were able to unite him with his class and best friend who is providentially in his class. After that it was all good.

I'm glad to have been able to put aside my rule/clock following tendencies for once and do what needed to be done.

Anna was only 15 minutes late, and things were just getting stated when she arrived.  Responsible Lutherans that they are, we did have a message inquiring after her on the answering machine at home.  Anna returns to a loving kindergarten teacher whom she also enjoyed for preschool.

Now my mornings are full of this goofy guy, who is not much of a conversationalist yet.  It is strange to think that he won't be in kindergarten for 4 more years.  Yet I don't dare wish that time away, because I know it is just around the corner.

I Don't Got Rhythm

The kids and I were recently watching some excerpts from "The Muppet Show" on youtube. This one makes me laugh every time I see it, particularly because I've been on both ends of this situation myself, as the one trying to accompany a person who "don't got" rhythm and the one standing out in front trying to find some rhythm.

The Rest of the Summer

Today marks Tom's second day back to school. It's always an adjustment for those of us left behind, especially because I've enjoyed lots of kid-free gallivanting around this summer. Next week marks the beginning of crazy school driving season, so it seems like a good time to wrap up the summer review.

August began with my cousin Peter's wedding. Jonathan just looked at these pictures over my shoulder and said, "I had a great day at that wedding. I like them and they were happy. Everything looked good." That about sums it up for me too.

Here are some more cousin pictures for my African friends.




And of course no wedding is complete without Julius Caesar on the guest list.

The following Monday began 2 weeks of intensive swim lessons.

We've been putting these off for awhile, feeling that our kids' water fears would hold them back, but it was perfect timing for Jonathan, who went from being able to dog paddle 2 meters to swimming across the pool using something that kind of resembles the front crawl stroke. He loved every minute of it and the peer pressure helped with any remaining fears.

During the second week of swim lessons, we enjoyed the fair.

Anna won some photography ribbons. Normally the kids have a lot of help with their fair pictures. I stand next to them and suggest subjects, then check their picture, suggest they take a second one more centered, check their picture again, suggest a third one more focused, etc., etc. They are sometimes patient with this process and sometimes we just move on.

However, Anna and her cousin took this ribbon winner all by themselves!

I was also proud of Jonathan's entries, especially the Lego dinosaur. From it we learned that even if you think your child is a Lego prodigy, one would do well to follow the age recommendations. The project took a long time and it was incredibly hard for him to work so much before it actually started to look like a dinosaur. Overall, it was a good lesson in delayed gratification, but almost too hard.

In addition to all the other fair excitement, what kid could resist the Emerald Ash Borer Tattoo? Great fun for invasive-species lovers everywhere.

Finally, last weekend, I took the train to Chicago to meet my great childhood friend Anna. There we mostly walked and talked, just as we spent our time many years ago - always refreshing for the soul.