MommyCoddle

Let them play

For the past few weeks, the girls and I have been watching episodes of From the Top. It is series on PBS (which we watch online). Each week, young, extremely talented musicians gather on stage at Carnegie Hall to be interviewed and play a piece with pianist Chris O'Riley.

My children are glued to these shows. They get so caught up in the passion of each performance, I sometimes catch them clapping furiously at the end. (I catch myself doing it sometimes, too.) Sometimes, I stand in the background and watch the performances and find myself getting teary, as memories of my musical childhood come flooding back. Memories of the man that walked me through my musical journey from my tender elementary years all the way to high school. His story, our story deserves more attention than I ever give it. 

I know exactly what those young performers are feeling as they close their eyes and sway and get lost in the music. As they sing it in their heart and play it with their hands. I know and remember exactly what that feels like.

Last week, after the girls finished an episode, I quickly jumped right in to dinner prep. I was feeling behind. School time had overflowed into "get dinner ready" time. I had company coming for supper, my kitchen was still torn apart, I still had so many things to do in order to get it ready by the time they arrived.

The girls quickly scurried out of the wake of my kitchen chaos and found shelter in the dining room. I heard them rustling through papers, scooting chairs across the hardwood floor, but I didn't pay much attention. I was in a rush.

After several minutes, I realized that there was no way I was going to be able to get this done on my own. From the kitchen I called for Emma, "Emma! I really need your help in here. Can you please at least come and get all your school books off the kitchen table? And then help me make a salad?"

I stopped for a second to be sure she had heard to me, to listen for her response.

I'm so glad I stopped. I'm so glad I listened.

In response, all I heard was the piano. Notes, some beautiful, some not so much, floating out of the dining room and into the kitchen. Her sister turning the pages of music spread before her. I peeked through the pass-through window of the pantry to spy her at the piano--hunched over the keys, eyes closed, hands poised and dramatic. Her sisters clapped furiously at the conclusion of her song. Mary announced, "That was the wonderful Emma Balint on piano!! And now, I will play a beautiful song for you." They switched places at the piano and Mary climbed up on to the stool.

I interrupted them for a moment, "Emma did you hear me just calling you?"

"Yes. I just wanted to finish."

"Emma. Never mind. Keep playing. I'll finish."

"Are you sure?? Are you mad?"

"No, absolutely not. Keep playing. I love it."

I turned off the radio in the kitchen so that their performances would seep into my hurried world of cooking and dishes and table-setting.

I am so glad that I let them be. I am so glad I stopped and noticed that moment. I am so glad that I realized sometimes, their play is more important than my frustration and overwhelmed moments.

Let them play.   Let them play.

little mysteries

I'm just popping in tonight to say thank you for your thoughts and comments you shared on yesterday's post. Once again, I woke up with that urge to hit the delete button and keep that post to myself, but your words and understanding made me glad that I didn't. Thank you for taking a moment to read my thoughts and my frustrations, for understanding my perspective and sharing in my joys and trials.

My gratitude is swelling up and over flowing.

I was listening to a song tonight by Josh Garrels*. And the first lines seemed to sum it all up well:

Learn this lesson well, my friend.
There's a time to rejoice and lament.
Every season will find an end.
All will fade and be made new again.

Meanwhile, Emma brought this bird nest in to me on Saturday when high winds were doing things like pulling down branches and knocking out internet connections.

How can I look at this and not be amazed? The shape. The weaving of horse hairs, no doubt collected from the neighbor's fields. Pieces of orange twine that wrap the round bales in our other neighbor's pasture.

How do they do it?

These tiny little birds. With no pattern, no frame, no extra set of hands. It is beautiful. And amazing. And breathtaking. And awe-inspiring.

* I cannot say how much this latest CD from Josh Garrels is getting to me lately. The music is poetic and has such depth. He paints pictures with the sounds and the words. It is so good. So true. So pure.
I especially like Jacaranda Tree :: The Original Spacefan :: Don't Wait for Me ::

To all the music snobs

After writing this post, it sounds like there are a few self-proclaimed music snobs among us. So I figure it would be only fitting if we banded together and shared our secrets. There are few things I like better than discovering new, good music.

So friends, what are you listening to? Are you imparting your great taste to your children? What are they listening to?

I'll go first with a few favorites from a variety of genres...and honestly we all listen to the same music and our tastes are all over the map. The other day I was in the kitchen listening to bluegrass, I walked into the living room and Dan had Elizabeth in his arms, and the girls around him dancing to Dean Martin. Oh, and lest you worry, on some of the "grown-up" music we listen to, I do censor some of the songs.....

1. My all-time favorite children's CD: Renee And Jeremy : It's a Big World. Watch it on YouTube, with another favorite song, Night Mantra.
2. Anything by Elizabeth Mitchell, though I'm rather fond of You Are My Little Bird
3. Catch the Moon by Lisa Loeb and Elizabeth Mitchell.
4. When the girls were a little younger we were big into Laurie Berkner's CD, Whaddaya Think of That? . But I burned out and we haven't listened to it in awhile. But it's great.
5. Innocence Mission: Now the Day Is Over ...probably no. 2 on my list. So good.

Other here and there faves:  Woody Guthrie , Pete Seeger, Peter, Paul and Mary (I feel like "Peter, Paul and Mommy" is the soundtrack from my childhood.) Smithsonian Folkways Children's Music Collection, Best of the Land of Nod Store Music, we also do some classical, some odd Russian Folk music, we've even been known to bring home a CD of gregorian chant from the library. 

In the "not necessarily intended for kids" category, but other stuff we like and all listen to:

6. Ricky Skaggs and Kentucky Thunder
7. Gillian Welch : Orphan Girl was the song I sang to emma every night.
8. Anything Patty Griffin
9. Emmylou Harris...they are really into the story behind the song Kern River right now. And this one is a classic favorite .
10. Dean Martin
11. The John Michael Talbot Collection is our Sunday morning standard.
12. The Mills Brothers
13. Fiddler On The Roof. The movie , the music , the videos on YouTube--Le chaim, the bottle dance, "tradition", matchmaker, "If I Were A Rich Man". They can't get enough. Elizabeth cheers when it comes on, shakes her belly and says something that sounds a lot like "yubba dibby dibby dum".

So I know I'm forgetting some good ones, but that's a sampling. I'd love to hear what you're listening to!

**That second picture is an oldie of Emma--as in it's on one of the first pages of my flickr photostream, take me back to the beginning, kind of oldie. It slays me. I can hardly look at it.

Happy Friday. Happy Weekend.

Glimpses of Reality, Followed by Inspiration

I believe a few glimpses of reality are nice every once in awhile. Healthy, even. Here are a few glimpses of reality from my day:

I am making grilled cheese sandwiches while I write this post. My laptop is sitting on the counter beside the stove.

My girls are watching a movie about penguins. And I'm okay with that. Because our morning was full or play and creativity.

I'm listening to Diana Krall on the radio show Art of The Song which reminds me of a boyfriend in college. Which I didn't think of until just this instant. (this is a new-found favorite on the radio and gets my inner singer, songwriter stirred up.)

This is where the girls spent most of the morning. A secret club meets under there. In order to get in, you must be wearing a tee shirt with the name of your favorite sport on it. Mary's says horseback riding. Emma's says soccer. And you must bring a sketch book. If I could fit, I'd be in that club, too.

Later, the girls commandeered the bathroom. Which, when the door is shut, is the warmest spot in the house--when the furnace is working, of course. Which isn't something you can count on.

That's Elizabeth, trying to get into the club. Yes, she's wearing underwear, over her clothes, which is another post to come. Yes, you'd break an ankle trying to get into that room. You should try to navigate it in the middle of the night. Yes, their beds are unmade. Morning "chores" were postponed this morning.

That's my kitchen table yesterday, about thirty minutes after I should have been elbow-deep in dinner prep. Instead I'm up to my elbows in red and pink and hearts and cupids and fancy paper and pipe cleaners. I'm working on some crafts for a new section on babycenter's website. They need 10 crafts, designed, instructions written out, and shipped to be professionally photographed in 7 days. Am I crazy? My deadline is tomorrow.

And now some inspiration to balance out my reality:

**Molly's photography in this post about her new restaurant, Delancy.
**Ali Edward's office tour. I'm getting Dan to build me some of those wooden bins on the wall, asap!
**Kristin's handmade doll clothes, which I think would be great to make for the girls' new dolls. I've already reserved the book from the library.
**This peek at Heather's new work. Stunning.
**Cassi's button clips.
**This post over at Ordinary Courage. It's actually her take on Oprah's latest magazine cover, but her thoughts on addiction, body image are really eye-opening. I'm not sure anyone could read the post without taking something positive away from it.

And back to reality......I burned the second side of the grilled cheese. Bummer.

music is magic

Sunday afternoon my grandmother invited me along to a recital of young students at a somewhat new Conservatory of Music that has formed in our area. My grandmother is an enthusiastic supporter and family friends with the founder of the school.

As I sat in the auditorium and listened to the students play and sing, it made me think of two things:

1. You never know what's inside someone.
I watched some of the kids in the foyer before we went into the concert--wobbling in their high heels, holding hands and giggling, nervously playing with neck ties and shying away from the girls in the corner. And then, minutes later, that same student would step out on the stage--focused, confident and full of music. You'd never think it--this kid, who I might normally blow off as shallow, giddy, immature, shy--has something inside them. There's more to them than what you see on the outside. You never know what gifts and talents lurk quietly behind a child's sometimes awkward exterior.

2. I had a great music teacher growing up.
When I was young, I went with my sister to Ardinger's music shop where she purchased her first instrument, a flute, in order to begin taking music lessons as part of the school's fourth grade curriculum. The man who owned the shop must have sensed my eagerness and jealousy. He handed me a small, black plastic recorder and said, "You practice on this. Come back in four years and I'll give you private lessons." I went back four years later to purchase my own first instrument and he remembered who I was.  So began eight years of private lessons from this seventy-four year old man who was such a strong presence in my life. He was tough as nails, gentle as a kitten. He'd make me want to cry and then overflow with praise. He never charged me a penny and he is someone who shaped and changed my life.

I remember how he used to always hum. Oftentimes when I'd show up for my lesson I didn't know where he was in his house/music shop. But I'd follow the humming and sometimes join in while I tracked him down. "You're FLAT!" he'd growl . I remember he'd sneak into my performances when I had a solo, usually not wanting to be seen. He'd linger in the background, and afterwards convince my mother and I to go out for pie and coffee in celebration, even if it was a school night. I remember sitting on his porch drinking 7up with a lime after every lesson while he had a martini. One every day. We'd turn on Benny Goodman or Artie Shaw and he'd have me play along with the CD or the record player so that I would start to sound just like them. He had shelf after shelf of records--numbered and alphabetized. I remember the day he told me I was better than him. I remember the day when he cried telling me how important I was in his life, how proud he was of me.

He taught me not just to play notes, but to sing.

It's the piece of advice I give to every young musician I come across. When I listened to some of these students today I thought, "Has anyone every told you to sing the music? Don't just play it."  And I remember when he died--after my senior year of high school, during summer vacation. I remember going to his funeral and being so disappointed. Here was a man who had brought music into so many lives and not a single instrument was played or note struck at his funeral. His funeral was common. It was normal. He was not. If I'd had my instrument and I had known, I would have gotten it out and played a tune in his honor.

I remember thinking that it was probably for the best that he died before I went to college. It might have broken his heart that I was going off to play volleyball and not become "the next Artie Shaw." But then again, if he could see me now, he'd see that the music is still there inside me. That I'm still singing. And I think, my children are singing. I think he'd be proud.

And then I think he'd say, "Get your kids some music lessons! What are you waiting for?" Okay, well maybe that's not what he'd say, but it's what I was saying to myself as I got in the car to drive home Sunday afternoon.

And do yourself a favor, go read Confessions Of A Pioneer Woman's post about soccer/children's choir. It's good.

I MUST learn the guitar

I play the piano. And I sing. But I don't play the guitar. It's been one of those "some day I'm gonna..." things on my list for a long time. You can't exactly pull out the piano while sitting on the living room sofa and do a few songs, or bring your piano over to a friend's house to sing a few after supper.

In high school I was in the jazz band and played the electric bass. (in my defense, I also played volleyball and basketball and the jazz band was really cool. right? right?). But the bass is a whole different instrument to the guitar--one note at a time, big thick strings that don't leave long, thin, tender creases in your fingertips.

And when I find new music like this, or see a video like the one below, it becomes almost painful to me that I don't know how to play. Dan even owns a guitar. One Christmas I convinced his family to all pitch in and buy him one, hoping he'd have the time to learn and fill my guitar-less void. But still the guiltar (I'm keeping that spelling mistake, kind of ironic, don't you think?) sits untouched in the corner.

So enough about me....are you getting the Junior Society Reports from Robert Mahar in your inbox? If not, you're missing some good stuff. This morning's email was the 15 best kids music albums of 2007. And somehow from there I landed on the hip young parent blog, which finally led me to one of the CDs on the list. And Kris, if you're reading this. You're going to want this CD.

Renee and Jeremy were on the list of 15 best albums. So far everything I've listened to on their CD, I love. Really love. I'm now going to have to buy it. It's one of those "I have to have it" kinds of CDs.  If you don't believe me, check out this animated version of their "It's A Big World" song....

And if you still have doubts, here they are sitting on the sofa (which led to the emotional outburst above about playing guitar) singing "Night Mantra". They're good, people. And if that's not enough, they even have one of the best looking websites I've seen in awhile.

happy listening!