Today I signed us up for a Positive Discipline series of classes that will take place this summer. We will have enough time to finish reading the book well beforehand, and to talk about it between the two of us. I am really looking forward to the opportunity to gain a more in-depth understanding of the philosophical and psychological underpinnings to the methods described in the book, and the sort of learning and practice that can happen in a classroom setting.
Today was also a creative day. I made more progress on the repertoire for my next gig, and tonight I met up with my writing friends for just under three hours. I re-wrote and added a considerable amount of material to the scene I shared with them on Sunday. It’s still in the very initial rough-draft stages, but there’s a lot more emotive content, a lot more with which, ultimately, the reader can connect.
Hazel had a piano lesson today. We only managed to practice once this last week (today), but even so she did well. We’ll go over last week’s song again this week, as well as working on the new one. In her new song she changes her hand position for the first time, stepping up the keyboard with her second finger from C to D to E. Very exciting.
This afternoon when we were downstairs practicing, she asked me why I sometimes played piano with my students. I told her that I don’t really play, but I wanted them to hear even the small part of the accompaniment I could do. She said that when she got better she could play with them instead. I said that would be great. And then she said, “And when I’m adult and a piano teacher, I can teach you how to play piano.” Hee hee. I don’t have any investment at all in any of my kids following in my footsteps professionally, but it would be wild and cool if they did.
Hazel has had a tummy ache on and off this evening, and when I got back home Ted said bedtime had been rough. She might be constipated, but I am not really sure what is going on. I find that, a part of me having swallowed hook, line, and anchor the idea that Mommy always knows what’s wrong, and can make it better, I feel horrendously inadequate when my kids are in pain. I feel I know so little, and often can do even less about it. Ted and I also feel that we’re not always very good at distinguishing between Hazel’s expressions of discomfort and her desire for attention. But if she’s still complaining about it tomorrow I’ll make an appointment and we’ll go see her wonderful, compassionate, level-headed doc.
Where’s the manual again? When do we figure out how to do this right? When does it get less confusing? Oh right, never. *sigh*
I think I’ll go upstairs now and give Hazel a hug (I think she’s awake at the moment). She and I will both benefit from it.