In the Bleak Midwinter Part Two

In the bleak midwinter,

 frosty wind made moan, 

Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone; 

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow, 

In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Mary was up all night with a croupy cough. At 1:30 I finally remembered an idea from our pediatrician years ago with Calvin.  Dr. Short, who is tall, said you have to either take them outside for ten minutes (seemed out of the question at 3 degrees. . . ) or put them in the shower.  So I ran the water full hot for a few minutes and shut the door and made her a little bed on the tile floor and she drifted away in the steamy room.  She slept till eight and woke perky and I took her to school late.  

This morning more snow. More shoveling. More slushy drive to school. Mary looked outside and said "Mama it's so still.  It's so beautiful."  I confess the only thing that looked beautiful to me this morning was the snow tires on the jeep.  

Bill has had more responsibility at work since October.  He's working a lot.  Good work, but a lot. I've never been more tempted to be a stay at home mom and go to the gym everyday and clean out the junk drawers and maybe even tackle the basement.  Take my own kids to their lessons.  

Instead, I'm starting a new family. Sam and Carly. Their parents start orientation tonight. I'm so excited because I have new materials from Jeanne Luedke and Edmond Sprunger and getting to know new families is alway so pleasant. It's also a little symbolic to me of my commitment to continue teaching.  

Every mother has to find her own path. Whether you work or not, there are always sacrifices. Casey became a defender instead of a prosecutor so she could spend more time with her family. The world needs Christian women defenders too.  

And, I guess the world needs a few Suzuki piano teachers who are also mothers. Who understand how dang hard it can be day after day to hang in there and practice with your kids and do the listening and spend your weekends at recitals.  

So many of our Pastor Paul's word resonate with me long, and I mean years, after his sermons. "Heaven is not a place of leisure."  "God does not fully use us in our comfort zones."  "Self pity is an addiction."  God always calls us to do a little more than we are comfortable with. 

My cousin posts some rank things on facebook, I confess sometimes I do laugh.  But yesterday she posted a picture with the words, "One of the hardest decisions you'll ever make in life is whether to walk away or try harder."  That also resonated with me.  

I'm ready to try harder. But I also know how to take care of myself. I know when to secure my own oxygen mask. We leave soon for Hawaii. Assuming no one is throwing up or running a fever that will be a good recharge.  And. . . 

I'm taking next summer off of teaching my studio. I'm telling the studio kids this week. A sabbatical. I haven't taken a break since Mary was born eight years ago. The timing is right. I will encourage the piano kids to go to an institute or camp instead of the six lessons they usually take. Some of the high school kids might coach the little ones a little. It will slow them down, but it won't be the end of the world. They will still recognize the black keys from the white keys. And I'm teaching at one institute. Then in September we will hit the ground running.  

I keep a little stash of thank you notes from parent and institutes.  Those words are also a recharge.  They remind me of the value of what we do.  There are many other little reminders along the way. . . Aidan got a great scholarship from Luther and Sami is going to play on the SAM honors upper level recital. 

I can't imagine my life without these families and kids. The piano kids. Writing is also a recharge. I'm ready to have lunch and prep for the afternoon. New parent education and repertoire lists for the Book Seven gals. The circle is coming to a close for my first full generation of seniors here in Minnesota, but the next set is ready to go.  I see their journey and my own with a little more perspective.  There is only so much time.  As my good friend says, you only get to raise these kids once.  I'm ready to try harder.