Maybe it’s genetics, or maybe it’s just good luck…but either way, I am incredibly grateful that both of my kids love music as much as I do. Before they were born, I had fantasies of teaching them all my songs and listening to them sing along with me, and that is pretty much my reality now.
I am infinitely grateful to my mom for all the things she has taught me and provided for me throughout my life, and could write an entire novel dedicated to her.
But in this crazy season of life, raising a toddler and a preschooler, I am especially grateful for everything she does for our family in her role of “Mimi”.
Raise your hand if you’re with me on this one. How could I not be grateful for a place that sells pretty much everything I could ever need (including a full Starbucks menu), AND is an exciting outing for my children?
As grateful as I am for this one-stop shopping mecca, I’m equally reluctant to step foot inside each time…only because I know I’m about to buy way more than I actually need at the moment.
Up until this summer, I wasn’t home at dinnertime to eat with my family most nights. Since I taught lessons, led music therapy sessions, and taught classes in the afternoons and evenings, I missed out on meals with my family during the week. Zach either made the kids dinner at home or took them to his parents’ house to eat, and by the time I got home, we had to start the bedtime routine.
The older my children got, the harder it was to miss out on dinner with them — especially after being apart all day long. That was a part of my decision to stop teaching lessons at the end of May, and I’ve since adjusted my schedule to make sure I’m home every night for dinner together.
I have a long history with this neighborhood. I didn’t grow up in it, but several of my childhood and high school friends did, so I spent a lot of time at their houses. My mom and stepdad moved here when I was in graduate school. I spent the summer in between school years there, and then the following summer, Zach and I moved into our own house in a different neighborhood.
It was my during my music therapy internship that I realized I would have to get over my grudge against Halloween. If I wanted to work with kids, I needed to just accept October 31st as a day that is, to them, right up there with Christmas.
Even as a child, I wasn’t a fan of Halloween. I didn’t like the creepy decorations, the pressure to choose a costume, or going door-to-door asking for candy (although I didn’t mind eating it later). But as an adult, I put my personal feelings aside and wrote numerous songs devoted to Halloween.
Over the last 10 years, I’ve sung about orange and black, all the candy we’ll eat, and jack-o-lanterns with conviction, and I bet none of my students ever guessed that I didn’t love Halloween just as much as they did.