Please, Don't Shoot the Piano Player. . .

An antique sign from the old west reads, "Please Don't Shoot the Piano Player, He's Doing the Best He Can."

That is how I am feeling right now, about Mary's upcoming Book 2A graduation recital on Saturday.  She will play the first seven songs from Suzuki Piano Book 2, plus a Kabalevsky Scherzo.

It is not going so great.  Like the rebellious child of a preacher, or the shaggy haired son of the barber, the piano teacher's kid is not gonna nail this recital.

Confessions.  I'm doing everything wrong.  I would never let my students do this.  We scheduled the recital three weeks into first grade, her first all day school experience.  She is wiped out.  We did this so that she could play for everyone that would be in town for her birthday.  We rushed.  She will have a birthday party Friday night and a recital on Saturday.  Incidentally, lucky for me, all 12 girls have responded yes to the party.  Who wouldn't want to party with Mary.  So she will have sugar hangover with a generous amount of over stimulation. . . tra la la.  

I'm yelling at her.  Yesterday I made the happiest girl in the world cry.  But, Mary, come on--WHAT IS THE PROBLEM?  We have been playing these songs for 15 months.  She has played each of them at a recital, with perfect repetitions out the wazoo.  She knows them backwards and forwards.  Still, we can't get through it.  We are soooo far from adding any nuance to the pieces.  I just don't get it.  SHE doesn't get it.  I'm slipping into sarcasm with her as well.  Bad mama.  Deep breath.

After the bad practice I came downstairs (with tears in my eyes) and our baby sitter Mary Lynn said some things to me like: she's only six. . . it is gonna be just fine. . . everybody will love it. .. she wants to play. . . it doesn't have to be perfect.   Yes, yes, yes.

I know all the problems.  It isn't easy for her.  It should be easy by now.  Every day feels like we are starting over, these are the black keys and these are the white keys. . . .

If I didn't have Mary, I would probably wonder why people struggle.  I would wonder how a child could practice everyday and listen, have wonderful caring parents and still struggle.

I decided to steal some practice time from Calvin and break up her practice into two sessions these last three days.  So this morning, I got out the puppy puppet and sat in the back with my coffee and let her do a run through with puppy saying ooh and ahhhhh.   Puppy loves it even when she totally screws it up.

I love her even when she totally screws up.  I really do.  Obviously.  To me.  Is it obvious to her?

I used to have to tell one highly committed studio mom to lower her expectations.  I told her this many times over the years, when she was frustrated with her high achieving child.  Be happy when things go well, but don't expect it all the time.

Physician heal thyself.   I'm lowering my expectations.  The new goal is--to have a good time.  Cuddle with puppy puppet a little more. Maybe, just maybe let the melody sing out a little more beautifully. . . . but remember, she's is doing the best she can.