Lessons

 

When we're home, we're superheroes.

  Parenting (and being parented) is nothing if not a constant learning experience. Some lessons and instructions are new and catch people off guard, while some are repeated every . . . single . . . day (e.g. “put your shoes by the door when you take them off, not on the couch”).

     Last week we were all learning a little.

     I left for work early on Friday morning for a dance practice and Grandpa Crouton came to help the hooligans get on the bus. It seems when I drove away in the dark that morning that all of the children’s backpacks were still in the car from the night before when we arrived home from piano lessons.

     That led poor Grandpa to deal with upset kindergarteners, wondering how they would make it to school and carry their show-and-tell items without backpacks. A trivial problem to some, but it shook their whole world and was a less than ideal start to the day.

     I had a couple of voicemails from Grandpa by the time I was done with practice, so drove the backpacks over to the elementary before the school day even began (crisis averted). We then had a talk about being old enough to take care of their own things, and being responsible for taking all of their stuff out of the car when they get home.

     After I delivered the backpacks, my youngest asked me to walk him to the office. He’d been selected to lead the student body, over the loudspeaker, in saying the Pledge of Allegiance (along with three other students).

So little and yet so big.

         

     On our way to the office we encountered Mrs. Carlson, their kindergarten teacher, visiting with some other staff in the hallway. I overheard her say “the triplets”, and since we have the only ones in the district at this time, figured that was about my kids.

     As I got closer one of the other teachers said, “oh, you have to show her.”

     Deep breath.

     “This morning your oldest gave me the best note I’ve gotten in 30 years,” she smiled.

     Man . . . what could Axel have written to her that won that accolade? This could go in a lot of different directions. Maybe he was just telling her how much he missed having her for a teacher, or letting her know that he still likes reading one of the stories she introduced to him.

     She handed me the note, which was written on the last three inches ripped off a crumpled sheet of copy paper:

     “Eero didn’t change his underware”

          

     I covered my mouth in shock and folded over in laughter. Everyone else laughed at me laughing. It was not as bad as I thought but a little unsettling – no secrets are safe here! And apparently there is a point in their lives when verbal over-sharing is not enough.

     Mrs. Carlson recalled later that Axel came casually flying an airplane up to her and said, “I have a note for you,” then flew away. She stuck the note in her pocket to read with the other notes when she got to her desk.

     I can just imagine her reading through these notes:

            “Little Billy will be going home with So-and-So on the bus.”

            “Suzy has a dentist appointment, I will pick her up at 10:20.”
            “Eero didn’t change his underware”

     She said she might frame it, and that it’s probably not the first or the last time that a kindergartener did not change underwear before coming to school. But it was the first time the older sibling had reported this to her in a note. It must have been important to big brother that she was aware.

     Lesson: Don’t do anything you wouldn’t want school employees to find out, or at least don’t get caught.

     In other lessons news, we have started bringing all four boys to a brave piano teacher named Jonathan. So far it’s going very well and I have not had to bribe anyone into practicing. The downfall of the situation may be my hanging out at Whitney Music making a mental wish list of instruments I’d like to take home and learn to play. Currently my list contains about six guitars, a harp, and a banjolele (cross between a banjo and a ukulele).

                 

                 

Jesse said this aqua is our wedding color so
that might be a fun one to buy . . .
he's kind of an enabler.

Hello, banjolele. Or maybe a mandolin?
So many possibilities!

     I have one guitar that I barely find time to play, so more would not really make that situation better.

     God and new minimalist lifestyle, please keep me and my debit card in check during piano lessons. And help my oldest son with his note-writing filter. Amen.