I woke up to find my 8-year-old's face in a peanut butter jar.
Yep. Gonna be one of those days.
And it didn't need to be. You see, Zach had his very first sonatina festival today. The basic idea of festival is that the student plays a piece for a judge and is given feedback on their performance. When I was growing up taking piano, it was pretty much my Super Bowl of piano for the year. (Okay, maybe not so much, but I treated it as such. Perfectionist that I am.) So, of course, for me the pressure was on. (You'll notice I said "for me." We'll get back to that...)
Let's go back a couple of days and set this thing up. I have been sick all week with bronchitis, and my strength has totally left me. I was basically on the couch all week - other than sticking my head out Wednesday night to rehearse with the orchestra at church. The rehearsal Wednesday night was rough for me. Halfway through, I basically started making stuff up and not even playing what was on the page. I was done.
All during the week, when Zach walked in the door from school, I would awaken from my sickness and say, "PRACTICE YOUR PIECE!" By Wednesday, I was hearing good things coming from the dining room, so I felt like he was in good shape. That was until Thursday. That afternoon, things had started going south for some odd reason, but I felt so bad that day that I was unable to make any corrections. I felt sure he would pull it together and do better the next time he practiced.
But little did I know, the next time he practice wound up not being until this morning. Friday was all messed up because, well, it was Friday, and Stewart took Zach bowling with the college group that night. I was supposed to have lead this outing, but with my illness, we had decided it was best if I didn't go.
So we were up super early this morning practicing. Stewart had left around 6:15 to go work our church's 5K that raises money for summer camps. I got up around 6:30 to find the peanut butter face in the jar incident. I thought there was hope for us when Zach got straight in the bathtub after eating and then came and asked me while I was getting ready what he was supposed to wear. I had ironed a dress shirt and put out dress pants. I reminded him to tuck his shirt in and put on his belt. Then I heard him play his piece once. And it was not good. Then I heard him talking to his brother. I opened the bathroom door to see him standing in my bedroom, shirt untucked and hair a total wreck. "What are you thinking?!" And then it all went downhill from there. He couldn't find his belt. He forgot to tuck in his shirt. He forgot to fix his hair. We fixed all of that, and I sent him back to the piano again for more practice.
By the time we needed to leave, we were all pretty much frazzled already. My fatigue was setting in. Then I opened the back door to load the car and saw something that made me want to have a nervous breakdown - Evan's car seat was sitting in the garage and not in the car. Now to most of you, this is no big deal because you hook up and unhook the car seats of your life all the time. Not me. I could work the baby carrier. I cannot work this car seat for some reason - especially with my car. I can work the one in Stewart's car, but my car is much harder on the car seats. Through my tears, I rigged the seat the best way I knew how, and then we left. We dropped Evan off with Mimi, and I tried to calm Zach down for the task ahead.
We arrived at the college, and Zach and I prayed together before his name was called. We talked and joked a bunch, and when his name was called, he was totally relaxed. As I was sitting there, I thought to myself, "What in the world is YOUR deal?!" Why was I so worked up? Was this going to matter in the annuals of eternity? One bad rating on Zach's very first festival was not going to kill his piano career. He's in second grade, for crying out loud! He's going to be fine whatever the outcome. Maybe he doesn't need the trophies and pins I earned for all my festivals. Maybe he needs to just have the kind heart he has. Maybe he needs to just keep his love of books. Maybe he needs to be continually reminded of the good gifts God has placed in him - the gifts of being an eager learner, a great friend, and an outstanding big brother.
I decided right then and there that we were going to restart this day after we picked Evan up. On the way home, which was all of 9:00 a.m., I said, "Who wants second breakfast?" We were going to stop at the donut shop by our house and get a treat since, in Zach's words, he did good at festival. Sounded like a great plan, right?
Well...then Zach said, "Why is the car smoking?"
So there went that. Now we're at home, and I am drinking a cup of blackberry sage tea trying to find serenity now. Yep, one of those days!
Yep. Gonna be one of those days.
And it didn't need to be. You see, Zach had his very first sonatina festival today. The basic idea of festival is that the student plays a piece for a judge and is given feedback on their performance. When I was growing up taking piano, it was pretty much my Super Bowl of piano for the year. (Okay, maybe not so much, but I treated it as such. Perfectionist that I am.) So, of course, for me the pressure was on. (You'll notice I said "for me." We'll get back to that...)
Let's go back a couple of days and set this thing up. I have been sick all week with bronchitis, and my strength has totally left me. I was basically on the couch all week - other than sticking my head out Wednesday night to rehearse with the orchestra at church. The rehearsal Wednesday night was rough for me. Halfway through, I basically started making stuff up and not even playing what was on the page. I was done.
All during the week, when Zach walked in the door from school, I would awaken from my sickness and say, "PRACTICE YOUR PIECE!" By Wednesday, I was hearing good things coming from the dining room, so I felt like he was in good shape. That was until Thursday. That afternoon, things had started going south for some odd reason, but I felt so bad that day that I was unable to make any corrections. I felt sure he would pull it together and do better the next time he practiced.
But little did I know, the next time he practice wound up not being until this morning. Friday was all messed up because, well, it was Friday, and Stewart took Zach bowling with the college group that night. I was supposed to have lead this outing, but with my illness, we had decided it was best if I didn't go.
So we were up super early this morning practicing. Stewart had left around 6:15 to go work our church's 5K that raises money for summer camps. I got up around 6:30 to find the peanut butter face in the jar incident. I thought there was hope for us when Zach got straight in the bathtub after eating and then came and asked me while I was getting ready what he was supposed to wear. I had ironed a dress shirt and put out dress pants. I reminded him to tuck his shirt in and put on his belt. Then I heard him play his piece once. And it was not good. Then I heard him talking to his brother. I opened the bathroom door to see him standing in my bedroom, shirt untucked and hair a total wreck. "What are you thinking?!" And then it all went downhill from there. He couldn't find his belt. He forgot to tuck in his shirt. He forgot to fix his hair. We fixed all of that, and I sent him back to the piano again for more practice.
By the time we needed to leave, we were all pretty much frazzled already. My fatigue was setting in. Then I opened the back door to load the car and saw something that made me want to have a nervous breakdown - Evan's car seat was sitting in the garage and not in the car. Now to most of you, this is no big deal because you hook up and unhook the car seats of your life all the time. Not me. I could work the baby carrier. I cannot work this car seat for some reason - especially with my car. I can work the one in Stewart's car, but my car is much harder on the car seats. Through my tears, I rigged the seat the best way I knew how, and then we left. We dropped Evan off with Mimi, and I tried to calm Zach down for the task ahead.
We arrived at the college, and Zach and I prayed together before his name was called. We talked and joked a bunch, and when his name was called, he was totally relaxed. As I was sitting there, I thought to myself, "What in the world is YOUR deal?!" Why was I so worked up? Was this going to matter in the annuals of eternity? One bad rating on Zach's very first festival was not going to kill his piano career. He's in second grade, for crying out loud! He's going to be fine whatever the outcome. Maybe he doesn't need the trophies and pins I earned for all my festivals. Maybe he needs to just have the kind heart he has. Maybe he needs to just keep his love of books. Maybe he needs to be continually reminded of the good gifts God has placed in him - the gifts of being an eager learner, a great friend, and an outstanding big brother.
I decided right then and there that we were going to restart this day after we picked Evan up. On the way home, which was all of 9:00 a.m., I said, "Who wants second breakfast?" We were going to stop at the donut shop by our house and get a treat since, in Zach's words, he did good at festival. Sounded like a great plan, right?
Well...then Zach said, "Why is the car smoking?"
So there went that. Now we're at home, and I am drinking a cup of blackberry sage tea trying to find serenity now. Yep, one of those days!
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