The Penultimate Kotrba Family Summer

Lucky me to teach these dolls at MacPhail

Lucky Mary to learn from Fay

Mr. Red Pants was amazing as always

I started this blog in 2011. Calvin was ten. Mary was seven. For better or worse it's been a family journal. Before that, I used to scrapbook. I took Bill's precious photos and cut and pasted them with pretty papers and coordinating stickers and a few glasses of wine later I had something physical I could hold and touch and turn the pages of. After my dad died, and my grandma, and Bill's grandma--I guess I stalled out. I couldn't hold the people and I guess I didn't want to hold the photos either. I picked up blogging.

Tonight I went back and read a few early blog entries. I think I used to be funnier. Life with littles has a certain laugh or cry moment to moment mentality.

Since January I've been using the bullet journal system for my planner. I've always used a blank notebook for my position as C.O.O. of the Kotrba household. That is. . . chief operating officer. But before the Leuchtturm 1917 (the most highly recommended "bullet" journal) it was messy. I was a Moleskine girl. But. . . alas, the Leuchtturm has numbered pages and an index, making it easier to look up my notes from the SAM workshop in 2014. The little dots force you to write neater. I have my dad's left-handwriting.

August 

A week in the life

I have the old Moleskines in a shoebox. It may not surprise you that I can look back and tell you the menu and grocery list for each and every birthday party we've had, every Christmas and Easter dinner, and well--pretty much anything I've done ever. Every event I've planned. It's all there in seasonal colored ink. I guess I'm a hopeless historian. Handwriting and O.C.D. get better more refined with age.

What's happened in eight years? My kids grew up. A year from now Calvin will be leaving for college and Mary will be starting high school. Nothing puts the fear of God (i.e. being in the present moment) in me more than that. We seem to all be growing into pretty good friends. Calvin especially is mostly cooked. I try to make sure there is food in the house for him and I stay up later than I'd like to chit chat when he gets home from marching band cause well. . . I've got a teen who wants to chit chat with me. By God you better drop everything and chit chat. Mary has become very particular about her room, reminding me not to project every developmental stage into a hoarder's intervention. If I was gonna get a tattoo it would have said, "This Too Shall Pass." And it did. It all mostly does.

Speaking of growing up. . . ten inches of hair cut off and donated

I've been reading two most excellent books this summer. One is more contemplation and one is more action. I'm still working my way through The Book of Joy by Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu. And I started The One Thing by Gary Keller. I picked up the latter in the Calgary airport because it looked like a corollary to Dr. Suzuki's one point lesson. I was right. It's an excellent book. Life changing I might say. I can't make decisions all at once, but it's flushing out some ideas little by little.

Wayne Barrington, my esteemed French Horn teacher from UT used to say, "Gerber. They make baby food. They do one thing and they do it right." He didn't like me playing piano and jazz piano and playing in a rock band. Well. R.I.P. jerk. Turns out all the things we do, and all the things we love are woven into the fabric of our lives and ultimately make up the complex and interesting people we hope to be. Including the experience of studying with mean French horn teachers.

There is a price to pay. There is a meme floating on Facebook that says, "Spread yourself thick." Excellence does not come in moderation. Sooner or later we have to narrow our focus.

What is my one thing? Child of God? Wife? Mother? Daughter? Sister? Friend? Piano teacher? Homemaker? Gardener? Teacher trainer? Accompanist? Leader of Music teacher organizations? Pianist? Writer? Traveler? Cabin host?

That was exhausting to write and it's even more exhausting to live. There are some changes coming.
But! At the moment I'm filled with JOY! Everything I did this summer brought me joy. Piano camps, travel, entertaining at the cabin (more recital photos to come) and a little time at home teaching. Time in the garden--Bill tells me we are allowed to have a a hobby--and a couple weekends, like this, alone at home. My myself.

Years ago people like Doris Harrel and Chris Liccardo would tell me--'ya got great kids. I believed them, but all I saw was what needed fixing. More discipline, more practice, better table manners, less iPad etc. etc. etc. Now, I see parents of littles doing the same thing. Kids are kids. It all looks a little clearer through the rear view mirror. Now that my kids have turned out mostly amazing (they are not 100% angels. . .and they read this blog so I don't want any big heads ) I've got so many reflections to write about. Things we did right. Things we crashed on. Time I wasted. Things we are still working on. But--turns out all these parental experiments ultimately help make up the complex and interesting people we hope our children will be. We don't have to be perfect to successful. In fact probably our failures help our children to be resilient. That's another blog. I don't have all the answers. I only love the questions.

It's the penultimate Kotrba family summer. It's been a good one. God bless you all upon the last week before Minnesota school starts.

Emerald Lake

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