Why Can't Every Day Be Like Christmas?

This week I'm off. It's just me, Elvis, Karen Carpenter, Andy Williams, Johny Mathis, Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole gettin' Christmas wrapped up.

It's dangerous having time off. That's for sure. What if I were a stay at home mom? I could do laundry and cook and drive my kids where they need to go. Vacuum everyday like Alice on the Brady Bunch. Sit around making homemade cookies and candies and wrap presents and light candles. . . eat bon bons and get regular pedicures. Maybe I would go to a gym everyday and have cute workout clothes.

Whatever. Every week is NOT Christmas. Wake up Bud. . . I hear Elvis sayin'. Come down from your butter-sugar high and clean up the cat mess in the hall. Also get the rotten stinking shrimp out of the back of the jeep where they were left after the last Costco trip.

Mary had a jazz concert Tuesday night. At dinner she remarked, "Daddy, there were girls in the Glenn Miller Orchestra, weren't there?" An honest man knows when to shrug and change the subject. She's been playing tenor sax for a couple months now. She's not quite up to 10,000 hours yet. The Blackhawk 7th grade jazz ensemble was very good. So was the Blackhawk 8th grade jazz ensemble, the Dakota Hills 7th graders, the Dakota Hills 8th graders, and Eagan High's Jazz I, II, and III.  We almost got our very own 10,000 hours in one concert. Feliz Navidad. Feliz Navidad. Feliz Navidad.

I went to the grocery store this morning for the LAST time. I swear. I'm not going back. Well, I still have to go to the other grocery store to replace the dark sea salt chocolate drizzled caramel popcorn that I hogged much to the disappointment of the rest of the family. There is also peppermint ice cream at Byerly's that they don't have at Kowalski's. Yes, that's the Christmas zone I'm operating in. Champagne problems. Speaking of that, I am stocked up on our favorite bubbly for Christmas and New Year's Eves. To be fair it's a pretty shallow stockpile. Two bottles.

Last weekend our church choral service was wonderful and memorable and also not stressful. Glory be. Carols with brass quintet, organ and soprano descant? That's all I need to renew my faith in God and mankind. I got to play original music with beautiful piano parts with an amazing group of singers I'm happy to call friends.

The piano recital here Saturday was amazing in a million ways and just short of a million cookies were consumed. Solomon nailed his Chopin Nocturne and yes. . . he was much closer to logging those 10,000 hours. Mary is owning her Mozart. I got a Braille Christmas card. And popcorn from multiple sources. Mostly I received the joy of hearing everyone play music with their hearts and minds. I got close to 23 hugs during the Minnesota goodbyes.

Kids and music--I'm so thankful for this vocation. I'm also thankful for these occasional weeks at home with my family. I'll give up on the daily vacuuming and bon bons dream. At the risk of sounding really dorky--when you love teaching and playing, every day is just about like Christmas.

Same as Every Year

This dough is safely in the veggie drawer. . . waiting. . . patiently

Thursday Morning Visitor

What Self Motivation Looks Like

The Spelling Bee 

One year flows into the next. Almost. New this year? A high school musical with seven performances. Because the words "busy season" can always accept a paradigm shift.

As always, we baked on the weekend. The angels, doves and stars are in the freezer with no frosting (burrrrr), and there is a double batch of sugar cookie dough in the vegetable drawer of the fridge. Some cookies did make it over the finish line--Kris came over Sunday and we spent five hours making chocolate thumbprints and wafer sandwich cookies and fudge. Those are safely tucked into the deep freeze. The girls made almond bark pretzels and most of those are well. . . gone.

Monday night was the tea. After swearing on a stack of ten Bibles that I would never do another tea, something glorious happened. Someone else did the tea. Kate and Jenny from our church small group decorated the table so beautifully and Kris brought the Cafe Latte cake. After years of providing a moment of grace to women I love, someone provided that grace to me. I just showed up. Empty handed. Bev was the speaker and she was so funny I laughed until tears were rolling down my face. Mismatched Nativity scenes are just my kind of humor. What could be funnier than a dollar store Joseph with a porcelain Jesus. Calvin entertained on the piano sold CDs and Mary helped. It was the best tea EVER.

Tuesday was Tuesday and Tuesday night as per tradition, Mary got sick. It's always the Tuesday after cookie baking and the tea. Usually during the 5:00 lesson. By ten it was the full meal deal. That's because we only have thirty events between Wednesday and Sunday night. Thirty events including the Blackhawk Spelling Bee on Wednesday, Mary was one of two 7th graders who made the cut. Big tears.

Wednesday she was home sick and at the risk of sounding like a terrible mother. . . you will stay on the couch with your fizzy water and text me if you absolutely need me. I taught my lessons. And made my programs, and uploaded videos for the advancing recital registration, and practiced for the choral service. In between taking her temp and stuff like that. The show must go on. My hands are raw from washing them so many times. Then you have do this dance with your other kid who absolutely cannot get sick because of the three remaining musical performances. If you know what it means to be the piano player in the pit you will know that he would still be there with a bucket next to him and a cold rag on his forehead. The show must go on.

Mr. Herem sent me an email that the spelling bee was postponed. Hallelujah. Thank you sweet little Jesus boy whom we are celebrating. I had tears rolling down. Sometimes when people do something nice it's like you can't even believe it. Other kids were sick too, I guess.

Calvin didn't get sick. More thanks. . . .

Today was Friday and usually on this Friday our credit card gets hacked. Some traditions are worth breaking. So far nobody in Arkansas got any TVs from Walmart on our dime. I went to the spelling bee. Mary and her friend did not win, but they did great against the 8th graders. Anyway, it's already a miracle because she has my genes and if you know me well. . . you will know that while I love to write, I am not spelling bee material. I'm blessed to have two children to edit me. I was wondering if the male spelling gene is dominant? It must be. Way to go Mary.

Tomorrow is the studio recital here, the choral service at church and the final musical. Sunday two more choral services and the anniversary of our engagement (twenty years) brunch. Then I'm gonna frost those angels and roll, cut and sugar and bake that lonely veggie drawer dough. Of seasonal interest--there are no veggies in the drawer at this time. Just dough.

The Christmas train is an emotional roller coaster even for the experienced engineer. I started out the week a grouchy person and got more and more blessed as it went. One of my parents texted that I was a breath of fresh air. Mary locked herself in the piano room and worked on K. 545 until she got a recording she was proud of. Another book seven student did the same thing and I just looked at the video tonight. Wow! I'm so proud of these kids I can't even believe it. So many kids reached that tipping point of success this week after months of hard work. I can't wait to hear all the pieces tomorrow. All the sibling duets. Seeing siblings playing together is especially moving. I told them all. . . I don't even care (partial truth) how the recital goes, I only care how you two treat each other while you work together. Nothing else matters. Well. . . mostly, dynamics and ensemble would be great too and can you breath together to start and LISTEN to the balance. . . Plays nicely with others. In more ways than one. Parent child duets are precious. If you could see the look in their eyes from where I sit. Sniff, sniff.

Thanks for reading the 2017 pre-recital week journal entry. It's mostly the same as last year. Minus the credit card hack. Barring any surprise snowstorms tonight. . . tomorrow the children will come, it will be a little too hot in the studio and everyone will eat a few too many cookies. We will hastily clean up and run to church. We will eat dollar bun sandwiches in the car on the way to the high school musical. Same as every year. In a good way.

I'm blessed.