Top 7 Reasons I live with Kids

Kids go through stages. Much has been written of these stages. I've even studied many of these stages. From my personal experience, however, I've learned to readily recognize these two stages: Whiny Little Girl Syndrome, and Temporarily Cooperative. The "Temporarily Cooperative" Stage (my personal favorite) often comes as a surprise and sometimes makes up for the "Whiny Little Girl Syndrome." It is always good (read healthy) for me to make note of the times the kids have surprised me. So here are the top 7 reasons (this week) that I live with kids.

Reason No. 7 - We totally made a wetlands biome out of construction paper and clay.

Reason No. 6 - Sitting through early morning orchestra so we can race to early morning choir as soon as it is over. This way I can be a "soccer mom" and work full-time. It's like having your cake and eating it too.

Reason No. 5- Listening to Bobo belt out "I Will Survive" on ukulele and realizing it would sound better with a horn section. Not only do the boys agree, they grab a sax, a trumpet, and a trombone and back her up. (More on this next week)

Reason No. 4 - Coming home, after working late, to find the kids have a concert in 10 minutes. When I say, "Give me one reason that I should attend," they give me two words, "Herald Trumpets"



Reson No. 3 - Watching kids improve through perseverance and hardship. All throughout high school, Jojo never knew how many clarinets were in the orchestra because he, "never looked behind." This year, as a freshman in college, he knows (that's the percussion behind him).

Reason No. 2 - Kids make great friends. I go to concerts to support my kids, but the bonus is that I also get to see my kids' friends perform as well. The more people I know in the concert, the more I love every minute of it. (Go Jenna!)

And Finally,

Reason No. 1 - It gets me out of the house and encourages me to tackle the hassles that I would otherwise pass by. The Dixie State College orchestra performed at Pine Valley, over an hour away -- listening to Aaron Copeland in the wide open spaces of nature was beautiful. But the most touching song of the set had to be the 1812 Overature. I've heard this song performed on multiple occasions and I know it is supposed to have a canon. But to hear church bells peel as the symphonic orchestra plays brought tears to more eyes than just this writer's.



As a post script to all of this. I would just like to add that I love old people too. I can't help but notice that the audiences of all these concerts I attend is more often than not composed of seniors and above. This is a cross section of people who do not let the hassles of age and stiffness keep them in the house. And when the National Anthem was played in Pine Valley, the conductor announced, "Stand if you are able." The entire audience laughed. They were not going to let a little weakness of flesh keep them from respecting their country's anthem. They all stood and sang.

Der Taktstock

The DocUtah 2011 is in the can. For those of you not acquainted with DocUtah, it is an international documentary film festival in part hosted by Dixie State College of Utah.  Judea wrote and directed last year's commercial. This year she directed the sequel.


Last year Judea entered her film "Blackfire: A Modern Warcry" (congrats on the honorable mention, sis). Here is a clip from that film.



My favorite film from last year was a German film entitle "El Systema". It was a documentary on the afterschool orchestra program for students in Argentina. This year my favorite film was also a music oriented film from Germany. "Der Taktstock" was an audience favorite. Judea talked me into seeing it a second time. And she snuck off for a third viewing.

If you get a chance to watch or purchase this film, I'd highly recommend it. It reminds me of the joke "How many conductors does it take to change a lightbulb?" The answer is, "Nobody knows, cause nobody watches."



This movie is great for anyone who aspires to conduct, any musician who has ever been conducted, or anyone who has ever gone to an event that involved a conductor. (And everyone whose mother wouldn't let them touch her baton.)

This Week, Last Week's Photo's

Naji on Carousel

Naji at waterpark

Naji finally smiling

Bobo's new grey contacts

I knew even when I wrote last week's post that it needed photo's. But that is one of the write blockers -- waiting until all conditions are met before posting. So this week is going to be mostly pictures with no text and then hopefully by next week, my narration and visualization will be back in sync.
Last week I talked about practicing, but as you can see below -- it's not all practice. Notice, however, there isn't much difference between the practice faces and the fun faces.

Bobo on Carousel

Bobo With Cello

JoJo with Tenor Sax (notice it's much bigger than his beloved alto sax)

Naji with viola

Bobo finally smiling

I Can Cur

I should totally post another blog entry. I have sooo not been in the mood lately. But today I am feeling it. School is back in session. It brings with it scheduling challenges and new things to try. Thanks to the "unexpected cello" we adopted this summer, Bobo is now in orchestra. Not to fear, she is still in band (and jazz band). Apparently the change we made to her schedule triggered an unexpected enrollment in choir as well. How cool is that? She is attempting the trifecta this year!

Naji, my fourth grader, has enrolled in early morning orchestra. He's talked me into observing the class for the last two days. 35 fourth graders have committed themselves to learning music at 6:50 every morning. What a great way to start the day. I love seeing how they respond to the conductor and sit up straight. They are working on open strings and pizzacato right now. And they sound surprisingly good. Naji is still on a full-size viola, but the 15-inch viola I bought him is a little too large, so the school is lending him a 14-inch viola. He is so over-the-moon about being old enough to study music that he is insisting that he also be allowed to take early morning choir. Starting next week, he will go straight from orchestra to choir, thereby having two classes under his belt before the school day even starts.

JoJo has been accepted into the music program at Dixie State College. He is majoring in clarinet, but he will be playing tenor sax in the jazz band, alto sax in the pep band, and flute in the flute choir. He is also taking sight singing and class piano.

I have to say I love to hear my kids practice -- and there has been alot of that going on these last couple of weeks, but hearing them practice the piano -- now that is heaven here on earth.

And last but not least, the old lady band finally came out of their month long hiatus and had a practice in Leeds last night. Yeah, we've still got it -- just like riding a bike.

This morning I noticed a tagline on one of the blogs I read. It says "Music self-played is happiness self-made." I concur.

Choosing between what is right and what is easy

The old lady band had another great band practice last night. We keep drifting towards harder and harder music. We are also challenging ourselves to work on memorization. I know it is good for the brain, but doesn't it seem like it comes so much easier to other people? MIII has a bazillion songs memorized. It is like he can play whatever he wants whenever he wants -- he is never slowed down by looking for the tabs or music or lyrics.

I on the other hand resort to mnemonic devices and association and what not to get things to stick. Of course I'm old enough some days I'd forget my name if it wasn't so foreign to my soul.

Jenna brought up a good point last night that I spent the night thinking about -- when I wasn't dreaming about BOBO who is at a "smart" camp. I had a nightmare that she wouldn't go to sleep. If that is my nightmare, then I truly do have ukulele size problems. Anyway, Jenna says she knows a woman with a beautiful voice and substantial range who is to afraid to sing to anyone. She wonders why that is and why that woman doesn't work to develop some courage to accompany her God given gift of voice.

I answered Jenna wrongly. We were both looking at the woman and wondering why she wouldn't take the talent God gave her and use it. But that kind of thinking misses the mark. I have an incredibly limited range and nothing remarkable in my voice and yet I am forever searching for ways and means through which I can play and sing. Yes (for those of you who read Pride and Prejudice -- I AM afraid I will turn into Mary.) But the core question for both my behavior and the behavior of the woman who will not sing is --

What do you value?

What do you treasure? Is it something that comes easily to you or something you work very hard at? I hate to say that is why we have trials, but there you have it. Those gifts that are just given to us -- we take for granted or "esteemeth them not." I like the poem that reader Ver shared with me. So I will share it here.

Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.

Is it really camping if you can't hear the birds?

I go to girls camp in under three days, and although I love to camp -- I feel somewhat (I guess trepidatious isn't a word, but if it was it would go here). I have been so spoiled over the last few years. I can practice whenever I want for as long as I want despite what work lies in wait -- waiting for me to get it done. I don't think I will be so lucky at girls camp. Plus, I am very used to hours and hours of quiet. Again, I don't think I will be so lucky at girls camp.

Being around others is an exhausting activity for me. I can only truly be "on" for an hour or so at a time. But I am girding up my loins and preparing for three days of noise and companionship and being hap-hap-happy.

Music is not going to be totally out of the question. I am helping the girls with not only their "singing tree song" (see earlier post) but also a musical fireside in which combos of girls will intersperse music between the object lessons.

We've had roughly three practices, but we should be good enough for the mountains. (Maybe we can sneak in another practice when we are up there.) I know I've talked about the arrangement for I am a Child of God for beginning instruments -- here is some audio from our last practice with actual beginning instrumentalists.



Bobo and I are going to sing a duet of Sweet Hour of Prayer in Dakota. Sometimes making a video is a good way to practice. Sorry, in the end I had to either sync up the vocals or sync up the instruments. The next time I try a three-way, I will definitely use fewer instrument. Hopefully, instruments and voices will all be together when we play it live in the mountains.

Lights under a Bushel

ItI'm pretty sure I started playing the piano at age 5. My mom, my first piano teacher wouldn't start teaching kids until they were 6 and had learned to read. Luckily I had several older sisters who were willing to get me started. They say that most people have no memories before the age of five. That's me. No precognition before five. So and therefore I don't recall a time that I didn't play piano.

My peer group would use the word "talented" to describe me. But me, being me, and knowing how much time and trouble and work it took me to learn and continue learning the piano, I would never call myself talented. So while other girls recognized their God given gifts, I would secretly wonder what mine were.

For reasons I don't want to get into here on my blog, there was a period in my life where I wasn't able to play either the piano or the organ. Surprisingly, I didn't cease to exist as a person. In fact I grew. I grew to be a fair mother, a decent teacher, and something of a technopath.

In retrospect, I no longer chide myself for hiding my light under a bushel. In fact, if my passion for music had not been put on the backburner -- my other talents would have suffocated under its weight.

In times of trouble, when I find myself discouraged that I am not able to do more -- or that I am not the person I hoped I'd be, I turn to John Milton whose dream of being a cleric were dashed by the onset of blindness. How could God allow him to loose his sight when all he ever wanted to do was serve? But once that gift was gone, John Milton the poet was free to develop more. My favorite poem of his is below.


On His Blindness

When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.

On the music front, I am working with the Young Women to arrange songs for instruments anyone can play. Here is our rendition of "I Am a Child of God" for melodica, recorder, and dulcimer (We are practicing so we can play it at girls camp).