What Happened After the Recital...

We hadn't had a date night yet last week, and we were tossing around ideas. You know which one won?

Can I just say, I am so happy we get so much joy out of our mutual immaturity? After a wonderful day involving some fun parenting workshops and a wonderful piano recital, I think we just needed to let go of the adult world for a while. We rented a movie and set up camp.

You would not believe how much bigger and more stable you can make movie-watching tents when you're a "big person." And all you really need is a rope, clothespins, packing tape, and a C-clamp.

Ignore the freaky glowing sheet--it's a product of bad lighting and a not-so-hot camera.

Taped to couches and a chair.

This was the crowning glory on our tent. Take that, seven-year-olds!

The best part? After the set-up was complete, Patrick stood back and mentioned in an off-hand way, "You know, we really should invest in some C-clamps of our own."

I looked at him. "For building tents?"

"Yes."

Yeah, we know what we want in life.

Of course the most telling detail happened after the movie, when we were still happy we'd built the tent but the initial excitement had worn off. I turned to Patrick and said, "You know, this was fun."

"I think so, too."

"But you know what I'm most excited about right now?"

"What's that."

"Seeing Cambrie's reaction to this tomorrow morning."

"You know? I completely agree."

I guess no matter how childishly we behave, we really are parents, through and through. I'll take that as a good thing, though.

[Wondering what her reaction was? A long pause, then, with pure joy in her voice, "Daddy! COOL!"]

Summer Recital

Well, I guess I’ve achieved one of the first major milestones in my (small) career as a piano teacher. Last Saturday I held my first recital.

I’ve been to one other recital since I started teaching, but I was kind of piggy-backing off of another teacher’s regularly held recital. She’s a friend whose daughters I just so happen to teach—it was nice and convenient and a great way to ease into things.

But after a nice long summer with a few students who had been learning a lot, I knew I wanted to celebrate the work they had done.

All set up!

The program was short, casual, and straightforward. The two girls each played two songs, and Patrick played his new favorite: "Hero's March."

Don't mind the awkward lighting--there is no good angle for this piano with the window right there.

Alright, who else thinks my husband is fantastic for 1) wanting to take piano lessons at age 26, 2) actually taking them and practicing, and 3) being willing to play at a recital with no other student over the age of 10? You rock, Patrick!

After they played, I went ahead and played Bach's Invention No. 8, a short, fun piece that I played years ago--in middle school, I think? I was halfway cheating, because I relearned it to play once already at the recital earlier this year. However, I was halfway legit, as well--I actually re-memorized it this time. I know. Go me.

When all was said and done, we mingled and snacked. Here's the potluck food table:

Okay, now I have to sabotage this post to talk about the pretzels.

Do yourself a favor and try this SUPER EASY snack I got from Taste of Home's Fast Fixes with Mixes:

• 1 package pretzels (they ask for the large think ones, I like the thin ones better)
• 1 envelope ranch salad dressing mix
• 3/4 cup oil
• 1 1/2 teaspoons dill weed
• 1 1/2 teaspoons garlic powder

Basically all you do is dump the pretzels in a bowl, mix the other ingredients, drizzle over the pretzels, stir, put in a baking dish, and bake at 200 degrees (F) for an hour. Stir every 15 minutes while baking.

You will never regret trying this--it immediately made me think of an after-school snack on a crisp fall day. It's a great idea, assuming I'm ever put together enough to have a snack for my kids that involves more than saying "Apples are in the fridge."

Anyways, back to the regularly scheduled post...

I was so proud of everyone who played that day. The girls and Patrick had been working hard. Especially for the ones for whom this was a first recital ever--bravo! The pieces were memorized and polished, and they all looked like they were proud of themselves. What a great feeling! What a wonderful thing to see as a teacher!

It's looking like I'm going to have a serious increase in piano students come September, which is not only great news business-wise but also kind of exciting for me. I enjoy having something to work at and to prepare, a demand on my creativity. I also really love the challenge of trying to teach such vastly different students. I understand better how my piano teachers felt when I came prepared and ready to learn (and how they felt when I came without having practiced much at all-- and I thought they wouldn't be able to tell. Ha!).

In all, I feel this mini-recital was a success. My mind is brimming with new ideas for teaching. I'm looking forward to the start of an adventurous new piano year!

(And you thought I'd end the post without a picture of Cambrie at the keyboard... )

August Morning

We've had a bit of a break from the Georgia heat, lately. Yesterday, on our walk, Cambrie and I enjoyed a morning that was hovering just around 70 degrees--and that was at 8:30 AM. Here are some of the things I tried valiantly not to think... (I failed)...

I smell fall leaves.
This crispness reminds me of being ten and school starting again.
Maybe this is a sign.
Maybe... fall is coming.

I'm trying really hard to remind myself that this weather is fleeting and it is actually mid-August. *sigh* Just a few more months. I'll hang in there.

After we took Patrick to work again this morning, Cambrie and I hopped over to the park to enjoy the morning beauty. Note to self: 8:45 AM is the best time to visit the park. It was empty for a good half-hour. Cambrie had plenty of time to enjoy herself without eight-year-olds hurtling by in a breakneck game of tag.

Isn't it wonderful! It looks more like a magical kingdom when it's
empty and open and back-lit by the morning sun. Not that my
two year old appreciates that sentiment quite yet.

I've really got to learn to stop asking her to smile; it's apparently too painful.

Where to next?

She loves to swing. I can understand why. There's something about feeling your stomach drop, feeling the air rushing past your face, feeling the steady rhythm of back and forth.

She still likes the little kid swings because she can go much higher in those.

Early morning shadows.

I love mornings like these. I always have. When I was a child I loved to go sit in a tree or lay down on the trampoline to enjoy mornings like this. When I got older I would sit on the front porch of my university's Main Hall and read or write until it got too warm. I can't do things like that anymore, but watching this little person is still a great way to spend these cool morning hours.

When we got home, I felt no desire to be productive. Since I still had a nagging voice in my head warning that the good weather probably wouldn't last, I took Cambrie outside again.

Yes, she's sitting in a little sand pile.

Yes, she's basically bathing herself in this sand. Do I get
"good mom"points or "bad mom" points for letting her do this?

Watching her outside reminded me of almost a year ago. Look at that baby.

This was October 2010.

In that picture I was attempting to capture her first, tiny, invisible ponytail. (Just take my word for it--it's there.) She loved playing in that little "rock patch" then, too, but at the time her favorite thing to do there was eat rocks. Now she bathes in sand. *Shrug.* I guess my hobbies change from time to time, too.

I'm so excited by these fresh, bright mornings. I am refreshed, revitalized. I feel ready to face more 7 AM and 85 degree 90% humidity mornings, because each hot and humid day that passes is one tick mark closer to shorter days and changing leaves. Look out, autumn, here I come.

The Things I Didn't Want to Make

So, I've put off for a while showing you some of the things I ended up making that involved sewing. It's not that I don't like what I made, and it's certainly not that I don't like telling you all about it.

It's that I hated making them.

Okay, I didn't hate it. At the beginning of each project, I just didn't enjoy it. By the end of each project, I felt like I was putting myself through torture looking forward to being done. Let's face it--I get motivated to sew because I really selfishly want to have the end product, but I find very little joy in the actual process.

All my griping aside, here are my recent (*cough* from June *cough*) sewing projects.

The first was a really cute idea--a diaper/wipe holder. I decided to make one for my sister (who just had her baby), and then I knew I wanted to make one for myself, too. Here is the link to the pattern.

You can tell how much fun it was by the fact that I took just two pictures during the process. (By then I was having so much "fun" that if I had to even look at them, much less take a picture, I got an unattractive, disgusted look on my face.)

Okay...good start...cutting out the pattern from material that matches these little cuties...

Getting fancy and adding that cushy stuff you can iron on (please, don't be intimidated by my technical language)

These next pictures I took about fifteen minutes ago, and I had to take them on our phone (an unnamed two-year-old seems to have stolen our camera battery charger). They look rather shabby and, well, used because I've been using them since the end of June. You'll all get over it, I'm sure.

So long story short, I'm actually really glad I have this little pocket-thingie. It keeps the wipes and a diaper in one place, so I'm not digging for them in my purse. It also looks cute and doesn't give away that I'm a mom to random passers-by. (The Very Hungry Caterpillar bath toy and plastic bag of graham cracker crumbs do that.)

I just won't be making one again anytime soon.

My other project was actually one for a Relief Society activity about learning to sew. The project was a skirt. For an arduous three hours we pieced and cut and sewed. Then I had to take what was left home to finish up. Nothing would have happened if I weren't living in the same house as Patrick's grandma, but she tutored me through the final steps. Here's the rundown:

This shows the material and the little accent trim pretty well.

Finally finished. yes, you do see gathering, and pleats, and trim. Be impressed.

Look, I even modeled it for you. That's not somethin' you're gonna see everyday.

Sewing these things really wasn't all that bad. It just helps reinforce my love of other things--like baking, writing, and music. Oh, and crafts. How can I love crafts and hate sewing, you ask? Easy. By doing crafty things like these:

These were fun to make. These were cute. I could do things like these all day. Hmmm, I wonder what other cute fabric I have laying around....

*wanders off without actually ending the post*

The Plastic Frog and the Ivory Keys

After all the pleasant business of the last few weeks, the house has been quieter. No wonder the piano has been singing more, recently.

I just love how many people come and tinker around on the piano in the front room. First, I have two young students this summer. It's fun to have something to plan and prepare for, and even more fun to watch them progress. Then I, myself, am still playing around. Two weeks ago I finally played all the way through Clair de Lune, sight-reading the last two pages. It wasn't pretty, but it was exciting--it's a little thrilling, to be learning a real and challenging piece on my own, no teacher involved.

(Okay, tell me that isn't adorable, blurry photo and all...)

Cambrie has also learned a certain degree of patience regarding my piano practice. On a good day, I'll let her pick out a game ("A-Fog! Gim!" [Frog Game!]) and she'll sit in the living room and play while I run through a piece or two. That's about as long as she lasts, though. She's good about waiting until I've stopped playing (even if it's just to turn a page); then, with all her little girl charm, she'll sweetly ask, "A-Mommy play gim a-wit me?"

Of course, who wouldn't melt at that! "Aw, you want me to play the frog game with you?" "Yeah, sure!"

So I'll slide off the bench and scoot to where she sits, prepping myself for some real, genuine bonding time. That is, until she leaves me, hands full of brightly colored flies, so she can run to the piano bench.

"Cambrie, don't  you want to play the game with me?"

"A-Keemah play pano. A-Mommy play gim." Silly me. Of course it's Cambrie's (Keemah's) turn to make music while mommy tries to flick plastic flies into a frog's mouth.

If ever a plastic frog could look forlorn, then this one certainly is after being abandoned by its playmate.

When Cambrie and I aren't tickling the ivories, the house could just as easily be filled with music. Both Patrick and his grandma are taking lessons as well. It's commonplace to come home at 9:30 PM and hear Grandma playing her scales or "When the Saints Go Marching In." I am amazed at her dedication; a few weeks ago she tripped and fell in the garden, breaking her fall with her left hand. She broke her wrist. Would you believe she still wanted (one-handed) piano lessons each week? I feel very lucky to have a piano student that devoted to learning.

Patrick, my last student, has really been progressing quickly. He's never played piano before, though he has a basic music background and played percussion in high school. His familiarity with rhythms and his eagerness to learn have really shot him forward. My favorite part is assigning him pieces out of the books I used to play in, including the book with my very first recital piece. He, like his grandma, has a very sincere dedication that astounds me. I guess it's a little different when you're older and have that "I wish I'd done this sooner" mentality.

In any case, it's fun to be surrounded by music. It makes the day brighter and the house warmer. Now all I need to do is start getting ready for the Summer Recital next week (of course, more on that later...).

Lots and Lots of Little Words

Cambrie is talking now. And by talking, I mean our typical trip from the grocery store home usually ends with me wanting to pull my hair out because she has just asked the same question, or pointed out the same little fact, with two or three variations in the wording, about twenty five times.

Don't worry, it's a loving and proud sort of wanting-to-pull-my-hair-out. *Uncertain grimace* That exists, right?

About a month ago, while we were in Utah, actually, I heard her say her first, clear, pause-less sentence. We were playing on some mattresses downstairs when I flopped onto one and snuggled under a sheet, pretending to go to sleep. She wanted to pretend, too, so I patted on the pillow next to mine.

"Here. You can sleep here."

She immediately protested, "No mommy! I needa baki too!" Silly me. You can't pretend to sleep without a blanket (baki)! I got her one, and she happily snuggled down for a pretend sleep that probably lasted all of two seconds. I just laid there smiling--marveling at my little talker.

Photo by Jen

Even a month before that she was surprising me with her vocabulary. I would ask her to do something ("Cambrie, please pick your cup off the floor and put it on the counter."), and she would pause, look up at me with big eyes, and say, "Why?"

What? What do you mean, "why"? I was really thrown for a loop. "Why"? You're not even two, yet! How on earth are you using words more complex than "milk" or "shoe"?*

I love to watch her "yes"s progress, as well. It was really cute when she started saying "uh-huh," and even cuter when she learned to nod to say yes. Just within the past few weeks she's been using a new favorite, "Yeah, sure." We ask her to do something, and she'll say "yeah, SURE!" and run off to do it. Or she'll stand begging for a snack or a toy, and we'll say, "Okay, you want this snack?" "Yeah, sure." Like she hasn't just been begging desperately for that snack. We think it's pretty funny.

Of course, the hilarity only lasts so long--especially when we're trapped in the car.

"Where-a Keith?"
"At his home."
"Where-a Keith?"
"Still at his home."
"Where-a Nori?"
"At her home."
"Where-a Bynn?"
"What? Brynn has been gone for like two months! Well, she's in her home. In Arizona."
"Where-a Bynn?"
"...in Arizona."
"Bynn a-home. A-zona."
"Yes."
"Where-a Ma-di?"
"Melody is at home with her mommy and daddy."
"A-Madi a Papa Cottle a Numi."
"Yes, she's with Grandpa Cottle and Yumi."
"...Where-a Keith?"
*Sigh* "At his home."
"Where-a Keith?"
"Well I don't know, Cambrie. Where is Keith?"
"Keith a-home. A-mommy an daddy."
"Exactly! Keith is at home with his mommy and daddy. See, you know where he is!"
"Where-a Keith?"
Aaaaauugghhhh!!!

It kinda makes sense now why Patrick's sister, with a three year old daughter, sometimes has to insist that "Mommy is in time out now. You can't talk to me! I'm in time out!" Yeah, I'm definitely tucking that one away for future use--I'm going to need it.

In reality, I am very proud of Cambrie. I recognize that with all of her talking, and probably with all her repeated questioning, she is learning vast amounts. Every time she asks a question and I respond, she learns about communication, about cause and effect, and about mommy's personality, I'm sure. She also has a fantastic memory for people and names, and I think that's wonderful. I like to reinforce that memory by talking about family and friends she's seen before. Of course, a little variety in the conversation topic might be nice...

I guess I'll just have to gear myself up for three or four more years of this sort of torture mind numbing repetition fascinating growth and development. It's all in the name of an incredibly cute little girl, after all. And that is the one thing I can never deny--she is absolutely worth it.

Photo by Jen

*For those upset that I put the question mark outside the quotation mark several times in this post, know that I did it on purpose. I think the American rule is just silly in some cases, and this is one of them. I'm taking clarity over technical accuracy, here.