Madeline Performs

When Madeline was really little, she used to love going to the Greenwood Park Mall. It was kind of our hang out and continued to be so until we left Indianapolis in 2007. The mall has a play area, a fountain and a pretzel place. Heaven to a little girl. However, the best part of the mall for Madeline was the piano player at Von Maur. The older ladies who continually played in that store were very gracious in letting my little darling touch their beautiful grand piano and assist her in plucking out "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" each time we visited. The fact is, all children love music and Madeline is no exception. At the age of 3, she started to ask about taking lessons. At 5, she started working with Crys, a wonderful teacher at the The Vaults Music Studio in downtown Lafayette (shameless plug). A couple months ago, Madeline added voice lessons to her musical education and she is loving it.

This past Sunday, Madda had her second (and most successful) piano recital. She practiced her piece without argument in the weeks prior and did a great job performing it in front of a large audience. Not much in the way of stage fright there. I was proud of my beautiful little girl and stood watching, with tears in my eyes as she sat at that huge piano, behaving like a miniature adult. Back straight and head nodding to the beat, she busted out her best "Music Makes Me Glad" and took her applause graciously with a perfect curtsy and a lovely smile.

I am not here to say that my child is a prodigy. This is clearly not the case. After more than a year of lessons, she is still in the very early stages of reading music. She is in the early stages of carrying a tune. She is in the early stages of practicing without argument. Nonetheless, the gift of music is something that cannot be taken from her. Her burgeoning ability to read, play and understand music is part of a package deal that is a value at any cost. The research is there people. Google "music lessons and brain development" and you will be bombarded with studies. Regardless of the cognitive development that is happening, I will continue to encourage and support this love of music that is blossoming within my little Mozart, mostly because it is her choice (and it has my complete approval). It is a skill that will live within her and grow if she chooses to nurture it. Something that could be a coping skill, a career, a passion and a buffer to many of the less than ideal activities children and adolescents often choose.

Above is a picture of my little Sarah McLachlan and on her big day. Did I mention that she is also a bit of a ham for the camera?

How I Know I'm Getting Old

In less than two weeks, I will be turning 35. Please do not assume that I am writing this post in order to garner birthday wishes. Facebook will take care of that. I am writing because, as I approach 35 I can see myself turning into another old fogey who does ridiculous things like enjoy shopping for furniture or driving around fancy neighborhoods to get ideas for landscaping (both activities that my parents enjoyed.) I know that my kids find my interests to be a little "weird" and I am starting to realize that they view me in much the same way that I used to view my parents when I could not believe anyone could every be so boring or be interested in or excited by the most mundane of things. Here is a quick list of the evidence surrounding my "oldness":

1. On weekend nights, I stay away from alcohol.
2. I have wrinkles.
3. I have tons of gray hair.
4. I have known someone who was a grandmother at my very age.
5. Famous actors and singers were born when I was in high school.
6. I'm interested in genealogy.
7. I think about options for retirement.
8. I eat oatmeal for breakfast nearly every day (fiber is an important nutrient in the diet.)
9. I check the Dow/Jones daily.
10. I prefer household tasks over napping.
11. Napping seems like a waste of precious time.
12. The 70's and 80's are portrayed today in much the same way as the 50's and 60's were when I was young. The 80's are now retro and the 70's are ancient history.
13. I am married to someone who frequently uses the term "tool around" when talking about fun activities, for example looking at fancy landscaping and furniture shopping.
14. My parents have an RV and think they could live in it some day.
15. I eat foods specifically because I think they will prolong my life and ward off disease during the rest of it.
16. I have been out of undergrad for nearly 13 years.
17. I have been out of graduate school for 8 years.
18. I have been out of high school for 17 years.
19. I have been a legal adult for nearly half of my life.
20. I started high school over 20 years ago.
21. I have a child in elementary school and I am the room mom.
22. If I became pregnant today, I would be considered to be of Advanced Maternal Age.
23. I think I will make an awesome grandma.
24. My 6-year old rolls her eyes when I make jokes.
25. I realize that my life is finite and I have a makeshift "bucket list" that includes quilting, knitting and marathon running.

Having shared my "oldness" list, I have to also share that I would not change a thing about my age. (I would change some of the things age has done to my body if given the financing) When I was just a young mental health worker, straight out of undergrad, I was talking to the unit coordinator in the hospital that I worked in. She had recently turned 32 and was singing the praises of being in one's 30's. She felt that I had something to look forward to. At the time, I was 23 and I was looking forward to heading to the bar with my work buddy in a few hours (you rock, Kristen Barnett.) Nonetheless, she had given me something to look forward to. She felt the 30's were a more peaceful and confident place. A phase of life that was on your own terms, complete with improved confidence and a sense of direction. I fully agree. Honestly, 35 feels pretty good to me. It sure beats the heck out of middle school (23 years ago.)

Humility and My Life as a Criminal

Although there are many happenings that have brought me to the point where I realize humility is a trait that I would like to nurture in myself, one experience in particular must be shared. Not only is it a good lesson in humility (for me), it is damn funny.

Some of you will remember that I posted a mobile picture on Facebook a couple of weeks ago, while on our way to Ohio to visit my family. The picture was of "Mr. Weenie", a mascot for some unfortunately named pseudo-restaurant in the lovely and bustling town of Peru, Indiana. Many of you who are familiar with the conventional route between West Lafayette, Indiana and Akron, Ohio will wonder what we were doing in Peru. Well, because my husband and I are such an adventurous couple, we thought we would take the scenic route. So we did, and we saw Mr. Weenie and he demanded that I post his ridiculous self on Facebook. So I did. Well, here lies the beginning of one of the single most significant communication breakdowns in my marriage. You know, the marriage that I kind of brag about because we communicate so well and are always on the same page. Yeah, right.

Ok, so Jason pulls up to the pump to fill up the mini-van (read "family truckster" ala National Lampoon's Vacation) and I head out to take a picture of the aforementioned giant "weenie" in the sky. I post the pic and head inside to purchase some super sugary, use only in case of emergency travel snacks for the kids, a Diet Coke for myself, and also to use the ATM and the restroom. While at the counter buying these goods, the workers start talking about how a drive-off had just occurred and I am stunned that people would actually do that, especially in a small town. I mean, stealing gas? I head to the ATM and there are several foreign-looking people looking confused in front of it. Therefore, I head to the car and suggest to Jason, who is waiting for me around the side of the building with a full tank of fuel, that we find another ATM because we might just have to wait all night for the current ATM customers to finish their transactions. Jason begins to pull away and sees that the ATM is now free. So I head back in and request some cash from said ATM. Apparently small town ATMs only have a limited amount of funds and I was given what was left. What I was given was not what I had requested, so I told the girl working (this being the same girl who I had discussed the drive off with, five minutes prior) that her ATM had an error and was currently "temporarily out of service." Nonetheless, my receipt from said ATM clearly stated the difference between my request and disbursement and I figured all was well. I bid the workers at the Peru BP farewell, and we were off on a drive that can only be described as "less than ideal."

Hellish as it may be, Jason and I had great conversations on many subjects throughout most of the drive. We talked about family and religion, hopes and dreams. We discussed future plans and probably held hands and felt close and connected. I am always proud and probably a bit boastful about the way Jason and I communicate. I love having the chance to talk to him about intellectually stimulating topics. Never once did we further discuss our trip to the Peru BP, except to giggle sophmorically about Mr. Weenie. After a couple hours of talking, I climbed in back to soothe our crying son and watch a movie with our daughters. Jason listened to an NCAA final of some sort. We had a great trip and made it back safely to Indiana on Sunday.

It was not until Tuesday that I was struck by the fact that perhaps my husband and I do not communicate as well as I would like to think. The caller ID told me that my bank was calling and I quickly answered. The representative from the bank let me know that she had received a call from a merchant who had used my card information to track me down because ACCORDING TO THEIR SURVEILLANCE CAMERA I HAD NOT PAID FOR GAS THAT JASON HAD PUMPED. Folks, let me tell you that I am a perfect candidate for a life of crime. My fingerprints are so faint that they have to be done via laser detection. Traditional methods do not work. I look pretty innocent. People give me the benefit of the doubt. Nonetheless, I WOULD NEVER STEAL GAS. I am a rule follower. Jason had stood outside and pumped $50.00 worth of gas into our van and expected that I would pay for it when I headed inside on that day in Peru. I thought he would use his card and pay at the pump. I sympathized with the clerk about the drive-off and lo and behold- I was the drive off. Apparently, the communication in our marriage is not as brag-worthy as I had thought. Luckily, I was such an obvious customer that day; what with my bright pink jacket, picture taking and repeated trips into the store. So obvious (or obnoxious), that the clerk contacted my bank, giving me the benefit of the doubt. She said that she had never before tried to contact anyone or given them the benefit of the doubt. She said she was sure that there was some kind of misunderstanding. She just didn't think that I "looked the type to steal gas." Yeah, maybe because those who are trying to break laws are a lot less chatty and annoying when they are in your store.

The moral of the story is that I am humbled by the fact that as good as my marriage is, there is still so much work to do. I am humbled by the fact that Andy, the clerk at the Peru BP, took time to offer me another chance because she was sure of a "misunderstanding." I am humbled that as a complete stranger, she was able to recognize my honesty. She could have easily called the police. That would have been much quicker and the much more obvious (or jaded) program to follow. This is only one of the many lessons I am learning in humility these days. If you got to this point in this very long post, I am humbled that you have stayed with me for such a lengthy read.