Lullabyes long gone

I loved this post on Notes to Self so much, I just had to steal Kyran's idea. We took the boys to Music Together classes when they were toddlers--I guess to build up that music awareness portion of the brain. I don't think anyone took me to such things when I was very small, since I definitely lack a musical brain center.

Both our boys are musical, but I can't say for certain that it was the toddler classes that did it. I suspect their musicality is innate. Teddy always enjoyed the classes, mostly sitting happily on my lap as we sang, clapped, and played together.

Barley? Well, he really enjoyed running around the outside edge of the classroom, playing with the venetian blinds, chalk, or any other loose object in the room, while I gamely sat with the other Moms. I felt kind of dopey sitting there, my lap empty, clapping and singing songs that Barley had no interest in. I could almost hear Barley thinking to himself, "Gee, I have to entertain myself while Mommy is at her music class--I hope it is done soon!".

We did enjoy the tapes from the class, playing them in the car. DH said the melodies were good, and he could hear the boys matching pitch and tone from the back seat. One of the songs became the lullaby he sang the boys when they werebabies--"my love and I" having been replaced with "my child and I".

Inspired by Kyran's blog posting, I went in search of a YouTube version to hold us over, until I can pin DH into recording one for posterity. (Given his history of public singing at emotional family events, I suspect he may resist...)

The Water is Wide, I cannot cross o'er it
Neither have I wings to fly
Give me a boat that can carry two
And we shall row, my child and I...

Songs of The Jungle

So, Father's Day was relatively uneventful. We had traded it to Saturday to allow for "Barley Day" instead, as a reward for weeks of behavior management.

I had a bet with DH on whether the local indoor play space for kids would be packed or empty on Father's Day. DH figured most fathers would be celebrating with picnics or family outings. The cynic in me said that it was extremely hot out, and all the divorced Dads who had custody or visitation on Father's Day would want to upgrade the usual Saturday morning McD's play area experience with something a little more exciting.

I am happy to report that DH's more generous view of the state of fatherhood in the area proved correct. The Jungle was almost deserted. There was only 1 birthday party--usually there are closer to 10.

We settled in the downstairs pizza area where all the parents hang out. We had told the boys they had to eat their lunch before they disappeared with the tokens. In all, there were maybe 8 sets of parents waiting for kids, who were running through the Byzantine play structures, to come back occasionally in search of hydration, sustenance, and video tokens.

Our boys were sweatier and sweatier each time they returned. Ick.

DH and I had brought paperbacks with us, planning to read while waiting for the children to check back in. It was SO quiet, that had the plastic lawn chairs in the pizza area been replaced by lounge chairs, it might almost have been a poolside vacation. This is the most relaxed I have ever been at this place. There was even music playing in the background.

Wait.

The music was, ummm, not really appropriate for the 12 and under set that The Jungle is aimed at. Here were some of the selections:

• Tonight's the Night--Rod Stewart. (girl loses virginity)
• Somebody's Baby--Jackson Browne (girl loses virginity)
• Heart and Soul--Huey Lewis (basic booty call song)

Obviously selected by the teenagers working the food bar and prize booth (though you would think they would pick newer songs?), but it was a bit disconcerting. Fortunately, it was not very loud, and I am sure the children running amok on the play structures didn't notice.

Sneaking in some music

DH has been giving Barley stealth music lessons. While Barley gravitated to the electronic keyboard during Teddy's season of keyboard lessons, he steadfastly refused to take lessons himself. The same way he steadfastly refuses to eat most vegetables put on his plate. And while nutrition is something I am willing to wrestle him on, music is not. This has to be something he likes and enjoys, not something we force on him.

But I knew he had some musical gene--inherited from DH since I certainly don't have any talent in that area. Barley likes to make up riffs on the keyboard, and does so even more, now that we have a real piano in the house. He loves it when DH practices on the keyboard, enjoying the background music so much he'll come in and give him an unexpectedly random hug or kiss on the cheek. The music just makes him...happy.

He copies any tune his brother sings. And with music being such a big part of DH's life, he's anxious to share this with both the boys. Teddy is easy--he is naturally interested in anything and everything. With him, the challenge is FOCUS. Barley is a tougher nut to crack. He often makes up his mind against things, and refuses to even try.

Last winter I committed the major sin of signing him up for basketball against his wishes. Ultimately, he had a great time--so long as I was not watching him. If I looked away, and only watched out of the corner of my eye, he would relax and have fun. But if he caught me paying attention, fugeddaboudit! He would glare at me in anger, sulk, and stop listening to the coach. I brought my knitting with me and pretended to be engrossed in the sock pattern.

The next year he AND his brother participated enthusiastically in the same basketball league, and they pooled their Christmas money to buy a basketball hoop for the backyard. In the end, Barley loved basketball--even though he did not want to try it initially. But the resentment from him about being forced into it was hard to overcome.

Not wanting to make the same error with piano lessons, we've been stalking Barley on the music thing. DH bought kids piano books online, and just left them lying around the house for Barley to find. He propped one up on the piano stand, all innocent--open to page 1, but made no reference to it at all--not even the many times they were sitting on the piano bench together playing. (Side note, I hate that formal music education in CA doesn't start until grade 4, and even then is only for 3 months--totally inadequate!)

Last week, Barley finally took the bait. He read the picture instructions showing where middle-C was, and started playing. He followed the 3 first steps on his own; matching the numbered keys in the book to the keyboard, and then mapping them to the musical notations on the page. Within 15 minutes, he was reading the music (OK, only 3 notes worth, but it is a start!), and even BRAGGED to his brother about it on the ride to school, humming ... c, d, E, e, d, C, D, E, C, even SKIPPING a note! Yay!

We're so smart, outplotting a 7-year old...

Background music for my recorded training

Note to self: Put a note on the piano when doing 8:00am trainings from home.

I was in the middle of a training session to 31 coworkers this morning, when a lovely chord drifted through my closed office door. Usually, it is not a problem for the boys to play on the piano in the morning while getting ready for school. But usually, I am not delivering live training from my home office. And usually the training is not being recorded for posterity at the same time.

The music is not audible on the recording, thank goodness. I have my note on the closed piano keyboard for tomorrow's training session.

Random piano riffs

Well, in the 48 hours since the piano's arrival, I have not been home much. All day scrapbooking event, evening play tickets, and a planned multi-family outing to Great America have kept us all running. Have I mentioned I am seriously booked at work and wondering how on earth I am going to get all that I need to done while still sleeping more than 3 hours per night? I am a bit stressed.

Meanwhile, the piano remains an attraction in our living room. DH was awoken on Saturday morning by our youngest playing random bits in different octaves. Teddy has wandered over and tried to remember some songs he learned in the 2 keyboard classes he took at the community center. DH has ordered some John Thompsons and Teaching Little Fingers piano books for kids. And DH woke up our oldest child at midnight attempting to master the chords for "Bridge over Troubled Waters".

Even tonight, when I have shuttered myself in the home office to try to get ahead of this massive pile of work, I can hear chords through the door. And it is pleasant--much like the sound of birds in the morning waking you up a minute before your alarm clock.

I am fairly noise-sensitive. Loud sounds bother me more than anyone else in my household, as does repetitive sound, and overlapping sound from different sources. Music has not been a big part of my life, and I think I could spend days alone in silence and be quite content. So, the decision to get a piano was a big one, with some trepidation on my part. While I applauded Barley's interest in the electronic keyboard, I always had the option to request that he put on headphones. And the keyboard has a volume dial.

The piano, on the other hand, does not have any controls, other than the rules we put in place. No headphones, no volume dial, no on/off switch, no batteries to remove, and no lock. (There is one, but no key). Would the musical exploration in the afternoons (when school is out), drive me to abandon my hard-earned work-at-home option? Would I drive into the office more often, where I might find an isolated desk to work at?

Well, so far, it is working out beautifully. I find I can tune out the piano music more easily than the keyboard sound. When I do take a break to just let my mind wander, the notes playing in the background are pleasant rather than intrusive. Hopefully this will continue to be our experience.

Highs and lows

Well, we've gone and done it now. Bought an upright piano from a church downtown last week--it was delivered today. I suppose this means someone around here should learn how to play it. Once my 7-year old arrived home, I observed that the piano is much kinder to new musicians than the violin is. Even not knowing what you are doing, randomly hitting keys sounds kinda sweet.

The violin, on the other hand, screeches like a bat being tortured, causing one's mother to yell at you to STOP practicing! I blame this childhood experience with why I don't play anything well today. Couldn't be because I was too lazy to practice...

DH was playing some random bits while the kids played upstairs and I was working in the home office. When he stopped playing for a few minutes, Barley asked him why he stopped. "Oh, I'm not really playing, Barley. I don't really know what I am doing" Barley's response was "Well, you are really good at not knowing what you are doing, because it sounds nice. Could you play some more?" The really striking part is that Barley tore himself away from playing video games to have this pleasant conversation with his Dad. See, there is a sweet little boy in there someplace past all that anger...

Speaking of which, I got to see some of that later in the day. We had signed the boys up for an evening childcare center, and they picked out a video game to bring with them. When we arrived, we were reminded that their policy had changed--games from home were no longer allowed. Barley was extremely disappointed. Since we were in a public setting, he was working hard not to display it. However, I could tell by the way his shoulders slumped, his neck angled, and his avoidance of eye contact, how upset he was really was.

Usually, I give the boys a hug and a kiss and reminder to behave before leaving. I was able to collect my hug from Teddy, but knew from past explosions that to interact with Barley in any way would only overload his emotions. I would not get my hug or kiss, and more likely, he would lash out at the person "bothering" him for causing all the ills of the world. I was happy he was not physically acting out, but I was still a little sad when I left them.

Luckily, the Star Trek movie was GREAT. Exciting enough to get my mind off dropoff, and interesting enough that I want to go see it again soon.

Upon pickup from childcare, Barley was in the midst of another pre-explosion, as he was dealing with a child who was hogging the computer games. He handled it well, telling the teacher instead of reacting physically. We praised him at home, and gave him points on his behavior chart for controlling his anger.

As soon as we were done talking, he asked to play a little riff on the new piano. We let him, and then he went to bed with his brother with no resistance. Perhaps the piano will unlock more than just musical talent in this child.

Many sound better than one

So, we got to attend the recorder concert this morning. It was...interesting. We are VERY grateful for the music education in a public school. And as bad as one airy, whistle-y recorder can sound in the hands of a 10-year old, I have to admit that dozens of them playing together actually sound pretty good! The concert started with all the kids playing the first level song: hot cross buns. Then they continued playing songs up the next higher level, and some kids would drop out because they had not learned that song yet. So, song by song, fewer and fewer kids played.

Teddy was in the front row of the stage, with 3 more rows of children sitting behind him, all with heads down looking at their music sheets on the floor. The more advanced students were on the floor in front of the stage. Teddy played proudly, and looked great! Until the moment when he was not able to play the song. Then he looked frustrated and embarrassed.

While I felt a little bad for Teddy when they got to the level above him, part of me is glad that he has a chance to learn the natural consequence of not practicing. And we, his parents, got a reminder that at age 10, he still needs more support at home to remember these things, instead of letting him slip away into video land as soon as his other homework is done.

But Teddy wasn't the only one. I saw several of his classmates go through the same emotional roller coaster. One boy sitting in the front row had only learned the first song. He looked so proud and excited during that song. Then he sat, glum and ashamed, for the whole rest of the concert. I felt bad for him, and wished the teacher had paid more attention to the seating order. Then again, what would the alternative have been? Make all the poorer players sit toward the back of the stage, so their parents could not see them at all, even for the one song they did know how to play? I can't say I have a good answer.

OK, so this is the part where I reveal some of my own childhood angst. I took violin lessons in elementary school. And I was terrible. I am not exaggerating. I do not have a good sense of tune, and I think the only reason I was allowed the violin (I had to audition for it in 3rd grade), is that my Asian face in the all white school just "looked" Suzuki method to the instructor. I bet I looked adorable holding that 3/4 violin! BUT, when I tried to practice at home, my mother would actually yell for me to stop because she couldn't stand the noise. Any of you who have ever tried a violin--well, it does NOT sound pretty in the early days. Very screechy and painful to the ear. Anyway, I spent lot of time at concerts with the violin on my knee because I had lost my place *again* and could not "hear" where the rest of the players were. I was really embarrassed by this, and quit by 6th grade. So, maybe I am a wee bit sensitive to this whole thing.

So, not entirely sure what my point is with this post...bet you are wondering too? It was a lovely concert, Teddy played the songs he had learned well, and we are proud of him for that. And he is motivated to keep playing and practicing, even after this. So I guess it was all fine, then, despite my mixed emotions.

One indisputable bright spot at the end: Teddy wanted me to take his picture at the concert, and I only had my cell phone (no camera--bad mommy!), so it's not a great shot. He was eager for me to take a picture of the boy next to him too, whom I did not know. This classmate's parents had not made it to the concert, and he wanted us to memorialize it for him to take home. Now that really does make me proud!