The Hunt

The melting snow drip drip dripped from every rooftop and awning so steadily that it was possible to believe it was raining when I was out on the sidewalks of this city early today. The shining sun and singing birds, the joggers and bike riders, reminded me that spring really is here, emerging again after the recent snowfall.

The boys rallied for the egg hunt this morning - you'd have never known how feverish Lyle was if not for the bright pink cheeks. And although Baxter ventured so far as to say, "I think there really might not be an Easter Bunny after all - I think you guys might put out all this candy," he carefully avoided eye contact as he said it so I knew he didn't really want me to agree. My answer ("All I know is that I never touched an egg or piece of candy last night and yet they're all over the house this morning") was the truth; Matt played Easter Bunny this year.

Here is a 5-minute video of the egg hunt highlights. It may not be interesting to anyone besides the grandparents, but if you'd like to hear me making a total dork of myself acting surprised about everything, you won't be disappointed! We have watched last year's video quite a few times, the kids and I, and we love it - especially Lyle's adorable 2-year old ways and both kids looking so much smaller. Makes me wonder what next year's vantage point will be.

Musings on a Day at Home

The boys and I stayed home together today, giving Baxter another day of rest. The kiddos stayed in their pj's all day, even when we walked the half block to 7-11 to pick up some eggs for the sugar "flu-kies" we made this afternoon. I am only dressed because I went to the gym early this morning, which was a bit rough after a poor night's sleep. The kids've done very little this spring break week, aside from our Horton Hears a Who outing. In fact, I've done very little myself, or at least it feels that way, and I seem to be in a bit of a time warp. Life is strange when there's no car pool, no nursery school, to give the week its familiar shape. Perhaps it's simply this combination of factors, but I was feeling out of it this afternoon. Fatigued. And I seem to have a bit of a fever tonight. I have an unusually full day at work tomorrow (6 hour-long clients back-to-back without a break - yowza) and hope that I will wake up feeling well enough for it.

But before I turn in early, I have a few observations and photos from my day with the boys today:

1) When left to their own devices for more than 10 minutes, they were able to amuse themselves quite well. At one point, they played a game in which they took turns giving each other a good thwack on the rear end and then laughing uproariously (I tried to figure out how to phrase that to avoid showing up on the freakier Google searches). Next, they were happy to "spit" (more like raspberries) on a piece of construction paper, declare it "Disgusting!" and then pass it to the other brother. Which begs the question: what will the teenage years look like? And one of my favorite games is when Baxter randomly asks, "Lyle, what + what = what?" to which Lyle earnestly starts guessing numbers. "100, Baxter?" - "Nope." - "17, Baxter?" - "No way, Lyle!" I love crazy sibling shit like that.


2) A highlight of my first use of the new Kitchen Aid mixer (which was mentioned in comments earlier today - it was fantastic!) was when I had my back turned and Lyle switched it on - with the mixing blade pointing up, full of the wet ingredients for cookie dough. One word: EVERYWHERE.

3) These boys are being ludicrously kind to each other these days. I think there was only one argument all day, and that was about whether there was enough natural light in the playroom to warrant turning the lights on. Lyle insisted it would be "wasting electricity" and Baxter turned the lights on anyway. High-pitched three-year old screaming ensued. But, really, if there's going to be an argument, I'll take that one.


3) As I mentioned earlier today, it is supposed to snow tonight, tomorrow, oh, and Saturday and Sunday a bit, too. I had to stop, mid-cookie baking, when I saw the sun hitting the tulips like this on our dining room table. I'm going to keep it in my pocket tomorrow to remind me that spring was once here for a short while and will be back.

Spring Break Fun: Horton Hears a Who

It's spring break for the smaller people around these here parts and, although I'm still working this week, today is one of my days off.

We had Big Plans to go to Pump It Up for a rambunctious indoor play date with Lyle's nursery school classmates, but when Baxter was still up coughing last night at 10 pm I realized it was time for Plan B. Now, Plan B had to be good, Wonderfriends*, because there was a lot of pre-asthmatic-coughing excitement built up around Pump It Up. At the same time, Plan B had to involve a certain amount of stillness so as not to aggravate the cough. Tricky combo, that. Matt bailed me out last night from Madison, where he's on his third business trip in as many weeks, by texting the word "movie?"

Score! Movie! And thank God I'd planned ahead, because I was able to present Plan B this morning when the boys climbed into bed with me, Baxter's lip already quivering due to his suspicion that I was going to say a big fat "no" to Pump It Up (I may have hinted at something along those lines when I came in with more medicine late last night). Tears were barely averted - it was only when the words "popcorn" and "candy" were uttered that Plan B became acceptable. Phew!

Our outing to see Horton Hears a Who at the Davis Theater in Lincoln Square was made all the more exciting by the fact that it was Lyle's first visit to a movie theater. It really helped that he was at the Dan Zanes show two days ago and so understood that the seats would tilt and it would get dark. He was a little disappointed, however, that there were no numbers on the movie theater seats - he will probably remember Seat 17 for the rest of his childhood. That was apparently worth the price of admission to the little one.

My expectations of this movie were fairly low, to be honest. As far as I'm concerned, Pixar has set the bar awfully high for kids' movies and I've become a bit of a snob about anything else. Which may be, in part, because I haven't seen anything else halfway decent for kids in a long time. I'm not going to say that Horton Hears a Who was fantastic, but it was perfectly enjoyable. There were some real laugh-out-loud funny moments for all three of us, and Baxter was frequently leaning halfway over the seat in front of him (which, thankfully, was vacant) out of pure excitement. I also heard him say, "Oh, MAN!" quite a few times. Further, I was pleasantly surprised with 3-year old Lyle's ability to sit through this 1.5 hour movie, although I'm not going to lie: the movie popcorn in a small Lyle-sized bag and occasional M&M's really helped. I was pretty sure that he wasn't taking in much more than the snacks and the thrill of the cup holders, but on our way out he was actually able to talk about the movie with us, so I guess he did.

And, you know? Even with the whole "A person's a person no matter how small" and the "we're just people living on a speck on a clover but we are interconnected with the larger universe" thing going on, I didn't cry much at all! So I'm thinking it wasn't that schmaltzy, either, because there was a lot of potential for weepiness in that story, let me tell you.

So, I'm going to go ahead and give it 3 stars and 1 teardrop (out of 5). Go out and enjoy it with your kids.

* Thank you, Cara, for coining the term Wonderfriends in my comments today. LOVE IT!

Early Spring by the Lake

The boys and I found our local park by Lake Michigan to be more mucky puddle than play area yesterday, so we headed over to the beach and reacquainted ourselves with its streams, rocks, and the chilly sand of the early season. We also found that the other children had come out of hibernation. I wanted to stay out until dark.

That's My Boy

Taken from outside the car window at the gas station...my favorite face-making opportunity with the boys.

Perftic Enough

Shortly after reading the letters on the peanut butter jar ("S-K-I-P-P-Y") and declaring, "That spells 'peanut butter'!!", Lyle made his own sandwich.

For the record, I was actually going to refrain from saying anything about spreading that huge glob of peanut butter around, but as soon as he saw me eyeing it with an amused expression, he shrieked defensively, "NO! It's perftic enough!"

And "perftic enough" is exactly what it was.

Random Tidbits: Lylisms

Lyle, sitting at the desk in our freezing-cold sun room: "I'm going to write you a note, Mommy!"

Me (making lunch): "Mmmmhmmm..."

Lyle: "It's a really special note for you!"

Me (starting to pay attention): "Oh, thanks, Lyle! What does it say?"

Lyle (deliberately pointing word by word to each scribbled line):

"It says, 'My. Butt. Is. Cold!'"

***

Lyle appears in the kitchen in his dress-up chef hat, which is falling over his eyes.

Me: "Wow, Lyle, you look like a chef!"

Lyle: "Yeah, I'm going to be a baker when I grow up! With Baxter!"

Me: "Mmm, what will you make? Cakes and...?"

Lyle: "Pies!"

Me: "Oh, yum! I love pies. Anything else?"

Lyle: "Yes! Frozen hot dogs!"

Here there be Scarves

Matt's parents came yesterday to spend the afternoon and evening with the boys.

And the skies opened, revealing the very heavens above, and together Matt and I flew on the wings of angels far up into the sky and slid down on a rainbow singing the Hallelujah Chorus...

Or holed ourselves up in the office for 3 hours and did our taxes and all kinds of other financial crap. But whatever. The Devil's in the details.

We did go out later for an absolutely incredible Indian dinner here. (We decided to do this once we found out we were getting a decent refund - thank GOD - because if we had owed, we'd have taken our forks straight out to the dumpster in the alley and started digging. I kid you not.) So we did go out and do something nice, I swear. Now stop hounding me. Sheesh.

Anyway, this is all a very long and obnoxious way of saying that Matt's parents were here and we were beyond grateful. Furthermore, my mother-in-law brought some adorable fleece scarves she'd made for the boys out of carefully-chosen fabric (CARS movie printed fleece for Lyle, sharks for Baxter), and they wore them all evening, by grandparent report. They were (appropriately) not allowed to sleep in them due to the inherent choking hazard, but one tiny scarf had been made for Lyle's "Baby" - it matched Lyle's, and Oma determined that Baby was unlikely to meet his demise by choking on a CARS scarf in the wee hours, and so he got to wear his to bed.

Have we discussed the fact that OMA ROCKS?!

Oh God. I have to cut back on the chocolate.

Fast forward to this morning...one of the best parts about having a 7-year old in the house is that he is savvy enough to operate most of our techmology himself. So when the boys woke up at 6:07 am (thanks, Captain Time Change!), they were able to go turn on a Wallace & Gromit DVD themselves and we could attempt to go back to sleep despite the sounds of Wallace asking for his Wensleydale and Gromit shooting at a penguin from a steam train car.

When I finally got up and went into the living room, I frightened the boys by laughing out loud very heartily. This might not sound nice, but you would have, too, even though most of you are ever so much nicer than me.

I can be certain of your laughter because this is how they were watching TV:

They are dorks, I know this. But they're my dorks. They come by it naturally, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

PS: Just to freak you out further, here's Baby all decked out in his jaunty new scarf as he headed to church today, tucked into Lyle's seat belt:

What Really Counted Today

You know those days? The ones when your children are clinging to their worst selves for dear life, as if by showing their sweetness they might be tossed into the wild ocean and eaten by bloodthirsty sharks? Do you know those?

Yeah, I thought so.

That's the kind of afternoon I had with the boys. The kind where Lyle doesn't nap and so is alternately grouchy and ridiculously punchy, and Baxter springs from the dismissal line at school like a hugely overgrown puppy, nearly knocking us over with his full-body hug and getting reprimanded by the older gentleman he smashed into along the way. The kind where I step out of the car to pump gas and wish I could stay all afternoon out there in the cold, hunched over alongside my car, breathing fumes. Where I have to pick up a couple things at the grocery store (is that really, truly so much to ask?) and they are so hyper I want to slink down the aisle while they are loudly suggesting I buy them some Popsicles ("Because it weally is a warm, warm day, Mommy...") and hide around the corner, preferably snuggled in among the really good cabernets, if you know what I mean. Oh, and the kind where I finally pull over to the side of a busy street and confiscate every last glove, mitten, hat, and anything else not tied down to the car (or the children) that might be thrown across the back seat or into the front seat because if that happens one more time I will lose my shit and start throwing things back at them. Big things.

Yes, the kind of afternoon where I suddenly grow sharp, ugly fangs, and frightening horns spring from my head, and I say crazy things at full volume and retract hot cocoa promises. And all I want is for these two crazy-making little people to find another corner of the house for, oh, 4 years or so, allowing me to read a book and cook some more good food. In silence.

But then. Then they decide they'd like to sleep together, since we're already warm and cuddled in the queen-size bed in the playroom reading Harry Potter and The Berenstain Bears, and they look so sleepy and sweet that I let them. And so I move the monitor and take about 10 essential items from their bunk bed and toss them into the big bed among the drowsy guys, and I see the adorable grins on their faces as they cuddle up together, falling asleep before I am even out of the room.

And I can see that this will work out just fine, them sleeping together tonight and this raising of two children, and realize that most of that time when they are making me crazy they are also really enjoying each other, and although I lingered at the gas station today breathing fumes in exchange for peace and quiet, that does count for a lot.

A whole lot.

Lyle Goes 'Round the Sun

Today was my monthly "assist day" at Lyle's co-op nursery school. It also happened to be the day we chose with him to do the school's little birthday celebration "Lyle goes 'round the sun" since he has a summer birthday and wouldn't otherwise get to do it. They don't do treats (ever!) but let the kids sit on a plastic cut-out of the sun and sing a little tune about how they've gone 'round the sun again. It's very cute and although Lyle is not totally comfortable with being the center of attention, he was looking forward to it.

Here are a few photos I took while there today:

Lyle at the writing center.

Learning that blue and yellow paint makes green!

Reading stories with Daddy at the end of the morning.
(We also had our teacher conference after school.)

Lyle going 'round the sun!

Let There be Cupcakes!

I reached for the cupcakes at Whole Foods this morning - vanilla, Lyle's favorite, with coconut sprinkled generously across the top - and paused, thinking to myself, It's his half-birthday, you dork. He doesn't need cupcakes! This is a fake occasion, right up there with celebrating the 100th day of school! Just tell him he's three and a half and move on!

And then I reached for the cupcakes and determinedly placed them in my shopping cart, sending a text message to the babysitter: "Tell Lyle it's his half birthday and we'll celebrate tonight!"

At the dinner table, he could barely contain himself. He stood on his chair because from that vantage point he was able to take in the glorious dinner I'd given him (Trader Joe's 3-cheese pizza, chopped pineapples, and veggie chips - his favorites!) and the cupcakes back on the kitchen counter. "This is gonna be quite a party!" he crowed.

On a whim I set the iPod to Lyle's 3rd Birthday Mix, a selection I put together for his birthday last August, and while we ate we jammed to some of his faves, such as a couple of hits from Mary Poppins, Justin Roberts, Dan Zanes, and the local Wiggleworms music class CD.

After our fantabulous dinner and cupcakes, I declared it Dance Party Time. The three of us were on fire, I tell you, on fire. Lyle danced in circles around us, yelling, "I'm having a great time with you guys!" over and over. (He later took me by the hand and declared solemnly, "You are my best friend.")

Suddenly, Dan Zanes' Wonderwheel came on and there I was, dancing with my little guys in my kitchen on Lyle's half birthday, thinking about how blessed I am to have this family and house and a husband on his way back from a business trip and this blog and all of you friends out there from all over the world to share the highs and lows of my life with, and I was just overcome with gratitude. Truth be told, today I am exhausted, sick, and in possession of a work to do list with 21 undone items remaining, but all of that vanished in one big happy moment and has left me glowing all evening.

Just like us, our children are facing lots of challenges and have hard times ahead of them. No matter who they are or how they came into this world, no matter how well cared for, fed, educated, and played with, nothing is guaranteed for any of us. Nothing.

So, by god, if we've got a chance to eat cupcakes and dance like crazy people and celebrate "fake" occasions together, let's do it. Because it is what will get them - and us - through the harder moments in life.

A Monumental Day

Today, ladies and gentlemen, something absolutely monumental took place at Chez Wonderwheel!

As you may know, my little guy has been having all sorts of separation issues lately, and you'll recall that I gave him the lovely glass heart to hang onto when I'm at work.

Words cannot do justice to the difference that heart has made. He separates in the morning without tears, he brings it to preschool and hides it in his cubby. He sleeps with it under his pillow. At night, when each of the boys picks a song "theme" for me to sing to them (I improvise a song based on their theme of choice to the same tune every night), he has been asking me to sing a song about "heart". (Baxter? "Pokemon.")

The heart seemed to set the stage for his successful participation in Advanced Separation 301, allowing me an unheard of transition in and out of our home when I went to both Minneapolis and San Francisco last week. Truly, it was a breeze - Lyle was perfectly happy while I was away both times and did not even make me pay for my absence upon my return! This is nothing short of miraculous.

But all of that - all of it - was a drop in the bucket compared to today. Because this boy, this child who has been completely unable to take a nap on the days we're home together (Tues/Thurs) for many months now - despite the fact that he'll nap 2-3 hours for everyone else - declared during lunch that he was tired and ready to nap as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if separating from me by slipping into unconsciousness for a couple of hours wasn't a horrifying thought all of a sudden!

Furthermore, he willingly napped even when I explained that, due to the late start of this unexpected nap, I would have to leave the house soon to pick up his brother at school. This meant that I was going to have to leave the child monitor with our (very familiar) neighbor across the hall. He was cool with this. I showed him how, when he woke up, if I didn't come down when he called, he was to talk into the monitor and tell the neighbor he was awake because it meant I wasn't home yet. And still - he remained unfazed. He thought this was peachy keen, and hoped he'd get to go play with her daughter and maybe pet the cats.

Huh?

So wait - not only would he separate from me and take a nap, but it was actually okay with him if I left the house during his nap and left him in the care of a neighbor, knowing that I may or may not be here when he woke up?!

Oh. my. God.

I tucked him in with the monitor close by and heart no. 55 resting in his sweet little hand, and walked carefully upstairs, sitting stock still on the couch for 10 minutes and steeling myself for the sound of his feet pounding upstairs after me, realizing he wanted to come with me to get his brother, or that he would miss me too much, didn't want a nap after all.

But he did it. He fell asleep. A deep sleep that lasted until I came home with Baxter, whose pounding feet woke him. But I didn't care. Because he slept for TWO HOURS! On my watch!

There's something to be said for a child's positive experience of being without mama for a few days and realizing that everything is still okay. She calls, she brings presents, and she always comes back.

I'm going out of town more often. That's all there is to it.

Hat Nap

Big Fancy Brother

We tried to go out to play today. Really, we did. Matt was able to take a little holiday time off this morning and we all bundled up to get some fresh air and attempted to go to the neighborhood playground for some exercise. However, once out in the below-zero wind chill, Lyle didn't make it further than the corner ATM. To Matt and Baxter's credit, they spent about 15 minutes at the playground, and had a rousing game of catch with an ice ball. (Don't you just love hearing about life in the midwest, those of you who live elsewhere?!)

Once both boys were back at the house, they made up this fantastic game which served the dual purposes of a) burning off some energy and b) making their mother very happy to see them getting along so well. Believe me, not every interaction between my sons looks like this; if it did, I would not have pulled out the video camera. But they're able to play together well more and more often these days, and they remind me of a couple of energetic little puppies.

The fun continued when they were called upstairs to lunch and Baxter agreed to help Lyle wash his hands (often a bone of contention). As I passed by the bathroom door I heard Lyle declare happily, "Baxter? You are my big, fancy brother!!"

Here are the two fancy brothers having a great time together in the play room (adult supervision highly recommended):

Family of Valentines

For my little guys, Valentine's Day is about a few different things. It's about waking up to some candy and a couple of new books on the breakfast table, and then handing out some of the yummy cookies they made for our friends and neighbors. For Baxter it's about bringing Scooby Doo Valentines to school and giving them to everyone during the class party in the afternoon. For Lyle it's about wearing pajamas to preschool and getting to watch "Harold and the Purple Crayon" on DVD. (I mean, seriously, a movie at preschool? Unimaginable excitement.)

For my big guy, Valentine's Day will probably mean fighting his way through another day with a bad head cold, and eating the Red Vines I've given him. Oh, and maybe sneaking a few of those yummy cookies when no one's looking. Those oughta take the edge off that cold.

But for me? My Valentine's Day highlight this year is about giving Baxter one of these lovely hearts that he's been pining for ever since I gave one to Lyle last week. Okay, and it's about giving one to Matt, too, because I also want him to have something to hold onto when he misses me.

You see, I'll be leaving on a jet plane after work tomorrow night for my Second Annual Unbelievably Fabulous Girls' Weekend, this time in Minneapolis because the friend who lives there is quite pregnant and not up for travel. I wrote about last year's amazing weekend here, and have been looking forward to doing it again all year; as in, I was excited in August that we were already halfway to the next one. That kind of excited. I have no doubt that I will have a wonderful time again this year. However, it is somewhat unfortunate that this weekend with friends and my trip to California are only going to be separated by two days; days which I will spend with the boys in their entirety, but which are still only two days bookended by time spent away from them.

And so we're going to need these hearts, all of us. My guys with their beautiful flecked glass hearts and me with the colorful Lego heart creation that Lyle made for me, the one that the boys fill with hugs, kisses, and love every time I leave the house. (Truly, every morning there's a huddle by the door as hearts are filled with smooches and "squeeeeeezy, squeeeezy hugs!". It would melt the heart of even the grinchiest Grinch.)

We'll hang on tight to these hearts, my sweet family of Valentines, over the next 10 days as we separate, come back together, and then separate once again, holding the love close until we are all under one roof and life returns to normal around here.

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone.

A Heart Full of Mama Love

My little one, my Lyle, he's been struggling lately with big, challenging emotions that he doesn't always know how to express, despite his many words. It's easy to be loud, he's discovered, loud and bossy and angry; not so easy to say, "Mommy, I miss you. I'm sad when you to go to work. Please stay home and play with me."

I chatted with my wonderful friend Kristen about this sad subject a few nights ago, and she (as you'd expect if you know her) was full of fantastic ideas, many of which I know I've heard before (and even suggested to others!) but needed to hear again myself at this very moment in time, about this very child. I'm so grateful that she took the time to help me with this when I needed it.

And so along came this morning. Lyle has been reading Dinofours books like they're going out of style (which is technically the case - they're out of print but you can still buy them used for really cheap on amazon!) and is subsequently finding the language to share his sad feelings with me far more readily than he has with any other strategy I've tried. So today he approached me, took me by the hand and bravely said, "Mommy, don't go to work yet. I want to play with you some more." And cried.

Now, to many of you, this probably seems heart-breaking. To me, it's just a little bit heart-warming, but only because I've been waiting for him to open up and say what's in his little heart, rather than showing me through unpleasant behaviors that only left me guessing.

I immediately employed two new strategies. First, I asked him if he'd like to call me on the phone after lunch so that we could talk to each other. His little eyes lit right up through his tears and he said, "Yes!" So I arranged this with the babysitter.

But then I suggested that I could also give him something special of mine to hold today when he's missing me. Now this idea he LOVED. "What is it?" he asked, following me to my bedroom as I searched the top of my dresser (didn't I used to have some shells or special rocks up there?). "Oh, it's really, really special," I replied with excitement, as I came up empty-handed and tried to hide my worry.

And then it hit me: the heart. My Heart is Hot heart! Didn't I say I felt it was almost time to pass it along to someone, but I didn't know who it was for?

It was for Lyle. Of course it was.

Child of my heart.

Child who wants to be with me every moment of every day and night, who carries around a sadness under the surface so much of the time because I'm either not going to be with him later, or wasn't home earlier in the day, or might not show up in his dreams that night.

I gave Lyle my heart.

I filled it with hugs and kisses and all my Mama love, and then handed it to him before I left with instructions to hold onto it when he was missing me.

For the first time in a few weeks, there were no tears when I left the house. He held the pretty glass heart all day long. It sat next to him at every meal, and was under his pillow as he napped. It was in his hands when I came home from work early due to a snowstorm, and he continued to hold onto it as we read books and played cars together all afternoon. "I love my heart," he told me before bed, "it's so pretty. And it has even more than your hugs and kisses in it. It has all these little red things!", noting the flecks of color inside.

"That's all my love, sweetie. That part is the love."

We are Living in the Future

The boys did a video chat with my parents in California tonight:

Such mild-mannered urchins I have.

Cats and Dogs and Allergens: Oh, My!

So that Suzuki violin class? The one we won in the auction and went to visit tonight to see what we thought of it? Where Baxter excitedly got measured for his quarter-sized violin?

The one that both kids wanted to participate in, with even Lyle whining for a violin (which he could have soon, if we so choose)? Close to our neighborhood? With the really fantastic teacher?

Yeah, that one.

Well, it's in the teacher's house. A perfectly lovely house, I should note, but one that has cat and dog hair swirling into the air and taking off from the floor every time a child so much as places his violin down on the floor to play the "who can pick up their bow properly the fastest" game. With the actual multiple felines and canines racing through the house at the end of class.

There is no way I can spend all that time in that house every week, this much became clear by the completion of the hour.

Damn these allergies.

Damn them.

Making Hot Cocoa in Long Underwear

Winter doesn't get much cuter.

A Musical Interlude

We seem to have entered a musical period around here. It started fairly innocently, when Matt and I decided, on a lark, to bid on a set of two introductory violin lessons during the nursery school's online fund-raising auction.

I played violin and viola for a number of years, as I alluded to once before. I enjoyed playing, and although I wasn't particularly stellar at it, I was decent enough to be part of a youth orchestra and a string quartet - which I especially loved, much in the way that I later preferred singing in a choir to performing solo. (Everyone needs a viola player and an alto!) In fact, now that I've been focused on such things in recent weeks, I have been surprised to realize how much music was a part of my life growing up, in a way it surely is not anymore. I eventually left string instruments behind in favor of choirs and theater productions, which were the highlights of my extra-curricular life for many years.

Perhaps if I'd started learning the violin at a younger age I would have been better at it and stuck with it longer. Probably not. But, I have talked a lot to Baxter over the years about starting an instrument. He's always been interested, but I haven't felt he could sit still long enough until pretty recently. When I saw this auction item, I thought it might be a good way to give it a try. The instructor is in the neighborhood and sounds great. He teaches the Suzuki method, which is how I learned and what I would prefer for my kids.

Now that we are the lucky winners of those Suzuki violin classes I am starting to realize what we're getting into. This isn't really just two "try it out" lessons - there are the weekly individual lessons, yes, but also every-other-week group lessons. There's the measurement and ordering of the correct rental violin, and perhaps the ordering of a rental for me as well, since it's ideal for a student to have an adult to imitate (do I still have any skills left to imitate?!). I have discovered that Shar Music, the company whose catalog I pored over in the '80s, picking out new strings and a comfortable shoulder rest, now has a website from which I can order my son's copy of Suzuki violin book 1 and the accompanying CD. It's all rushing back to me.

When I mentioned to the instructor that I sort of wanted to make sure that Baxter liked it before jumping in, I got a very kind and sensible email response about the fact that the responsibility to start and keep playing an instrument at this age has a lot to do with parental motivation and coaching kids through the hard moments. He explained that he would coach me along the way about how to teach Baxter in small, doable steps while keeping it really fun for him.

So, although this is going to cause some - er - interesting scheduling issues for us in addition to daily practice, we're going to jump in and see what happens. We are committed to working on it through June. (Of course, if it doesn't seem like a good fit after our two "free" (i.e., paid for) sessions I have no qualms about saying "sayonara", but if Baxter's interest wanes come mid-March we'll see it through.)

Oh, and thanks to a positive reference to the Music Together program on the Suzuki instructor's website and my recent fond recollection of what a wonderful program it was when I was writing this post, I signed Lyle up for Saturday morning Music Together classes as well. He's not doing any other classes right now and I wanted him to have something special just for him, especially with his big brother starting all these music classes. This seemed like a great choice and he's loving it (and so am I!).

All of a sudden, it appears that - at least for the next 6 months - my life is going to revolve around music learning all over again. I'm enjoying it immensely.