Sickness and singing

Day 1: Out of no where there's a sore spot in the back of my throat. I notice it while I'm teaching. No no no no no no no. I can't be getting sick. I begin Neti pot usage, but I think I'm too late.

Day 2: Lymph nodes are swollen. I feel feverish during my church gig.

Day 3: Congested. I skip my swim workout today. I figure rest will do me more good than exercise. First day of opera rehearsal (of course) but I can sing. All the stuff is in my sinuses and doesn't affect my voice.

Day 4: Still pretty congested and my energy is down. The stuff must be as thick and dense as cement, because it's not coming out when I blow my nose. I can feel it growing and becoming more powerful by the hour. It's hiding up in my sinuses where the Neti pot can't reach it. It's a smart little bugger. However, I can still sing, so I'm feeling like all is not lost.

Day 5: More of the same. However, I'm able to blow out some seriously dark green, thick snot. I have the day off rehearsal, which I'm hoping will help speed the healing process.

Day 6: I'm feeling a bit better in the morning so I go to swim, which effectively clears out my sinuses. I'm feeling good at home and sit down to practice. Throughout the hour I can feel the mucus descending into my throat. F*ck.

Day 7: I have very little voice in the morning and still lots of congestion. This is the first time I've ever been sick while having singing commitments. I'm not really sure what to do. If I had a student who sounded like me, I'd tell them not to sing. But. I'm pretty sure my chords aren't swollen, that it's just the gunk on the chords that's causing the problem. Also, I can't afford to take a day off from rehearsal, this score is really difficult. On the other hand, I can't afford to damage my voice either. I decide to sing through the 2 hour rehearsal. It's not pretty, but I figure I have the weekend to recouperate.

Day 8: Still sick. Still no voice. It's too bad I have to teach today, otherwise I could stop talking altogether. I feel like I'm never going to get well. My gut tells me I just need to be patient, but I'm having a hard time. Aleks assures me that I will most likely NOT die from a cold.

Day 9: My voice is the worst it has been. Husky and inconsistent. At times I can't phonate. I sound like a dying goose in the morning. By evening things are starting to move around. I've blown out more snot than I knew I could produce. I'm coughing a lot more as well. I'm not sure if I'll be able to sing tomorrow, it could go either way. I make myself rest and it's the best decision I've made so far.

Day 10: In the morning I don't notice a whole lot of change. There's still lots of gunk in my throat and I'm blowing out tons of green stuff. It does seem to have thinned considerably. And it's lighter in color. Miraculously my voice seems to be coming back. There is a hint of the instrument I have, even though it is temperamental and husky. I sing in rehearsal. At this point I'm not sure if that's the right decision. I still don't think my cords are swollen, but I'd hate to exacerbate the situation.

Day 11: I put myself on vocal rest and only talk minimally during my 4 hours of teaching. (FYI, it's really really difficult to teach voice lessons when you can't really talk.) Rehearsal isn't great, but I can hear my voice coming back and it's clearer than last night. The most frustrating thing is that this score requires lots of muscle memory. It's hard to find starting pitches and many times I rely on how it feels in my body to know if it's correct. Since I'm sick, it's near impossible to rely on my body.

Day 12: I'm going to say it. I think I'm getting better. I don't have rehearsal today and I only teach for a short while, so my voice will get a break. However, it's definitely clearer and the mucus is starting to lessen. It's the first time I've started to feel hopeful.

Day 13: This morning when I wake up there's hardly any mucus. My throat is mostly clear and I think I'm at the tail end of this bug. Finally. Today we start singing through the opera, but I'm going to have to be careful not to overdo it. I'm sure my cords aren't as strong and supple as they usually are.

Hopefully tomorrow I'll be even further down the road to complete health. It's been a long time since I've been sick and especially as a singer, it is so frustrating. Here's hoping my family doesn't catch this bug!

Boredom

My mom and I were once discussing *light* topics such as climate change and the future of our planet. My wise mother commented that the tool our children will need to make this planet a better place is their creativity. The future of this world will depend on our children finding new and inventive ways to solve the problems we have failed to fix. In light of this, and also because of how I was raised, encouraging creativity and independent thinking in my children is one of my top priorities and challenges as a parent.

Creative play is something I fiercely protect. I often feel tempted to provide my kids opportunities for dance classes, piano lessons, and team sports. I want them to experience as much as I can afford to offer. It's hard to quiet the competitive mom voice in my head that tells me they need to start those things NOW! However, for our family, at this time, I've found that we are at our best when we have a minimally scheduled day. Truly, I feel such a sense of peace and gratitude when I've been able to provide a day for my kids that allows them to play hard. The thought of them being in school all day with only a few hours between coming home and bed time makes me anxious.

*I should add, that I have many friends and people I respect whose lives are vastly different from ours. I'm certainly not advocating that our way is the best, it's just best for us at this point.*

I heard a story on NPR the other day in which Manoush Zomorodi is encouraging listeners to unplug from their phones and allow themselves to become bored. In the piece it is mentioned that "studies suggest we get our most original ideas when we stop the constant stimulation and let ourselves get bored."

My kids have unequivocally proved this to be true. After we have allowed the kids some screen time, either on the iPad or TV, they will often come out of that experience grumpy (Ruby), aimless, and argumentative. I'm usually trying to get ready for work at this point and have zero patience for the whining and bickering between the two. However, if I can grit my teeth and wait it out, within 5 minutes they are usually immersed in creative play.

Some of their recently popular games include "Friend" and "Dear". Both games involve role play, sometimes both girls are multiple characters, and from what I can tell, there is a lot of moving toys from one room to the other. Yesterday while they were playing "Friend" they got backpacks and babies and suitcases and went on the airplane (two dining room chairs) to visit grandma and nana. While on the plane there was a lengthy discussion about who was going to ride in which car when they landed and if they would ride together.

Just today I was invited to play "Friend" with Ruby as we were waiting for Maia to come home from school. I was Elizabeth and Ruby was Sparkles. The game consisted of a conversation about real life things (like Ruby going to Cottonwood as a kindergartener), but as Elizabeth and Sparkles.

"Dear" involves "dear" (a kid) and "mom." There is a lot of "dear, we need to get our babies" and "dear, let's get ready for bed." At first this game confused me because there are a lot of "mom"s involved, but they aren't directed at me. I now know that when they say "mom" they're playing and if they're talking to me, I'm "mommy."

They transition so seamlessly between characters and real life and play, it's staggering.

I wonder how long this intense play will last. I hope they never lose their freedom and imagination. I'm sure it will manifest itself in different ways as they grow older. I think for myself, somewhere among the responsibilities and chores and career, time spent for dreaming and thinking and play has been lost. So I'm going to take a cue from Ms. Zomorodi and the way I parent my children. I'd like carve out and allot some time for boredom, which will hopefully enrich and inspire my writing and sense of play on stage.

Where has January gone?

I usually gauge the busyness of my life and general stress by how many days in a row I have to put on makeup.

I think we're going on 8 or 9 days straight of required makeup application. It's not really that I hate putting on makeup or the way it feels, but I loathe washing my face at night. It just doesn't seem fair.

We'll be getting ready for bed and Aleks will be under the covers, teeth brushed, in pajamas and reading a book. Meanwhile, I'm still standing over the sink waiting for the water to heat up so I can scrub the day off my face. And then I get really feminist and think "See?! A woman's work is never done. There's the man already unwinding from his day while I have to wash off the enhancements which were mandated by a patriarchal society meant to exploit my beauty not my brains." Then I climb into bed all huffy and wound up.

Maybe one day I'll just stop wearing makeup all together. A friend of mine had a good point: people will think I'm really tired for a week and then get over it.

Anyway, I digress.

This weekend I went to Arizona to give some masterclasses at a music academy where my mom works. Since I was already there we threw in two Sunday services and a performance at a high school as well. It was a busy weekend full of music and sun and family.

Look at these sweet girls. So talented and full of curiosity and promise.

Morning service

Evening service

My sister-in-law and niece and nephew. I couldn't get enough of them. If I didn't have kids, I'd say they are the cutest, most interesting children I know.

This was just after I dropped my phone on the tile floor. Apparently it was really funny.

Meanwhile, I'm still trying to finish up the edit map for the recording session I had at the beginning of the month. You'd think it would get easier.

Instead, the more I listen, the more I think I sound like an older, heavier version of Florence Foster Jenkins. Never heard of her? Go ahead and give it a google. I'll wait.

You're back? Aleks doesn't seem to share my opinion. He thinks I sound good. I'll probably never be totally happy with it, but I'm reserving final judgement until I hear an edited track with reverb added. Once I have a final product, I plan on sharing with you all my dreams for this recording. If I make it through the edit map, that is.

And through all of this, I've been learning the score of Cold Sassy Tree, an opera by Carlisle Floyd. I'm singing the role of Love Simpson in April and have really fallen in love with the character and her music. However, it's tricky and looks like this:

E flats and D sharps in the same measure make for slow going. But it's coming and is memorizing itself which is nice.

In other news, Maia has lost her first top tooth and I'm in love with her new smile.

And today was Pioneer Day at Ruby's school. Yee Haw!

Also, if you haven't been following this story coming from Humans of New York, do so. It will warm your heart right up and restore your faith in humanity.

Future singer-songwriters of America

The new microphones have been providing us with some wonderful entertainment.

I'll call this one "I Love My Family"

I always wish for a family with my self

It's like I'm a little self because this spotlight glows

But I love my family,

I love my family because they're my god.

I love my family

I love my family

They are my, I have their love inside my heart

Because I have their hearts inside my heart

But this is just part of the song

Their hearts are in their chest

Because I love my family

Because I haven't...

Because I've never been bad

It's always been true

I always get presents

T-whit, t-whoo

Because it's my life

I know how to fart

I know it's love

(????)

And (snove????)

Ruby is more into reinterpretation than composition.

Cause you know I'm all aba ba bass, ba ba bass, no trouble

I'm all aba ba bass, ba ba bass, no trouble

You know my mama she told me don't worry about your size

Cause boys like a little kombooty to hold at night

Cause that's what you're into go head and move along.

Anyone know what a kombooty is???

Christmas/New Year's Photo Dump

Good thing my New Year resolution wasn't to blog more. Sheesh.

Christmas and the week following were busy and full of fun and lots and lots of play. My girls have played so hard these past two weeks. They are now back to school and happy to go, but break was pretty wonderful for all of us.

Here are some highlights from our holiday.

It doesn't get much better than a kindergarten/mug shot Christmas ornament. She's now serving 5-10 for eating too many Christmas cookies.

Our church had a sweet little Christmas Eve family service. The girls were so pretty in their Christmas dresses and could barely contain themselves on the drive home due to excitement over all the twinkly lights on houses we passed.

Right before bed on Christmas Eve.
Sugar and spice.

We had Kringle on the eve of Christmas Eve, so for Christmas morning I made cinnamon rolls. With chocolate chips of course.

A new puppet stage with puppets was a huge hit.

As were the "real" microphones. 

Aleks and I didn't really think that one through.

And apparently my kids were good this year because Santa brought them what they asked for. A seascope for Maia and a mermaid tail for Ruby.

For New Year's Eve my parents were here and Aleks and I made beef wellington for the first time.

We definitely started off 2015 with full stomachs. And stayed awake until 11:00! Maybe next year we'll even make it to midnight.

So far the new year has been cold. However, we've been keeping warm and busy as we gear up for the next semester. There are some exciting things happening, which I'll share in the near future. (No babies.)

In the meantime, stay warm and cuddle up with the ones you love.

Love is born tonight

Here we are. Christmas Eve. The last advent door opened and chocolate eaten. Presents wrapped and hiding behind locked doors until little eyelids get heavy enough to stay shut a few hours. The fridge is packed with delicious foods waiting to be sautéed, roasted, and served on pretty platters. All the waiting ends tonight.

This year I have a church gig as a pianist. I've patiently waited to pull out the Christmas carols and hymns (can I just say we need more good advent music!?). Finally tonight I can share so many treasures we only get to hear a few weeks each year.

Tonight at the family service, I sang an arrangement of Some Children See Him, which was written by my mom. I had asked her to write it for me around the time I was pregnant with Maia. When I tried to sing it through the first time, I couldn't finish because of the lump in my throat and tears brimming in my eyes. My extended family laughed along with me at "those pregnancy hormones." And yet, here I am 6 years later, still barely able to make it through.

The lyrics and setting resonate strongly with me.

I hesitate to share the recording I made yesterday. It's not perfect and this type-A lady likes things to be perfect. But, a colleague of mine once said "perfection is not ours to have" (yeah, I'll just let you think about that for a minute... it should be cross stitched on a pillow!) and it's a really beautiful arrangement of a song that I think speaks truth.

(Ruby was my recording engineer for this one)




Some children see Him lily white, the baby Jesus born this night,
Some children see Him lily white, with tresses soft and fair.
Some children seen Him bronzed and brown, the Lord of Heaven to earth come down;
Some children see Him bronzed and brown, with dark and heavy hair.

Some children see Him almond-eyed, this Savior whom we kneel beside,
Some children see Him almond-eyed, with skin of yellow hue.
Some children see Him dark as they, sweet Mary's Son to whom we pray
Some children seen Him dark as they,
And, ah! they love Him too!

The children in each diff'rent place 
Will see the baby Jesus' face like theirs, 
But bright with heav'nly grace,
And filled with holy light.
O lay aside each earthly thing,
And with thy heart as offering,
Come worship now the Infant King,
'Tis love that's born tonight.

And there it is. Love.

I've got issues with the church and religion.

But love? That's something I can unequivocally get behind. What other reason is there to be kind, or put one foot in front of the other, or be selfless, but love? How wonderful, that tonight especially, we get to celebrate the birth of love with songs and candles and cookies and family.

Into my Facebook feed tonight came this "How can one hear this story of the beginning of our salvation and not be reduced to tears? Deo gratias...."

I too am reduced to tears at the extravagance and largeness of love. The hope that it brings. The purpose it provides.

Merry Christmas dear friends. May love touch your heart this season.

All the swears

Have any of you been listening to the Podcast Serial? I am hooked.

I don't think Adnan did it, but I do think he's somehow involved.

In my experience I've found that things are rarely black and white, life is colored with shades of gray.

As I tell yesterday's story, keep in mind that I went on a Serial binge earlier this week...

I was pulling out of the garage to take the girls to school and I caught this out of the corner of my eye:

What does that look like to you?

To me, it looks like "bitch" scribbled out.

I was in a fog throughout the car line. Maybe I saw it wrong. Was it in blue or pink chalk? Why didn't I see it when I brought in the recycling bin earlier that morning? Did Aleks see it when he took the bins out before work? How am I going to handle this?

The Backstory:

Maia is now going to public school and rides the bus two days a week. One of the best things about public school, in my opinion, is we are now much more connected to our community and neighbors. When Maia rides the bus to school, there are only 3 other kids on the bus, who are also in her class. Coming home is a different story. She's smooshed in there with kids from all grades, including our neighbor, who is a second grader, who I'll call Evelyn.

A few months ago Maia discovered that she could trot across the street, ring Evelyn's doorbell, and have an instant playdate. No waiting for a mom to set it up, no driving to get there. Also, she gets to experience relative independence since Aleks and I have felt comfortable staying inside while they play. We usually keep the playdates short, only 20 minutes or so, since the time between school and dinner is short and the sun sets early now.

There is another second grader in our neighborhood, whom I'll call Hannah, who is best friends with Evelyn and we often see all four girls playing together outside when the weather is nice.

On Saturday the girls had a pretty epic playdate. I cleaned both cars and the weather was gorgeous so they got to play for several hours. During that time they had a picnic in our playhouse, rode scooters, and played soccer. They also did some pretty magnificent chalk art all over Evelyn's driveway. The art consisted of portraits of each girl with long, curly hair. There are a few stray, half finished portraits in our driveway, but I think they must have moved on to a different game before they were completed.

Evelyn is only two years older than Maia, but wow, there is a lot of life experience that happens between kindergarten and second grade. One time Evelyn couldn't play because she was grounded. Apparently she had said a swear word on the bus. At lunch on the day of the epic playdate, Maia asked me at one point what "this means" and proceeded with much difficulty to lift her middle finger and hold it there. I immediately asked "who showed you that?" "Evelyn." I decided to be honest with my five year old. 

I said, "What does it mean? Well, I'll tell you, but it's the most awful thing you could ever say to anyone and it would break my heart if you ever said it." Both my girls nodded with wide eyes and vowed never to break my heart. I said, "Are you ready? It means fuck you."

Yup, I totally dropped the f-bomb in front of my kids. Since they have no idea what that means or have any context for a cuss word like that, they weren't too impressed. I suppose I could have been more specific with a definition for fuck, but their attention shifted pretty quickly.

Coincidentally, around that same time Maia asked Aleks what fuck meant and that Tyler had told her at school. Now, that sounds like something Tyler would do, but it could also be that she was repeating what I said and was testing out the waters with Aleks. Funnily enough he said the same thing I did, that it's a terrible word and that it would break his heart if she ever used it.

Maia likes to know things. She likes to collect all the facts and then thinks things through and is really happy when they all make sense. If they don't makes sense, she figures out a way to connect all the dots. I suggested to Aleks that maybe we should just tell Maia all the bad words and then she'll know them and can stop collecting them and that will be that. Then I started to list all the bad words I could think of and by the time I got about 3 in, I realized I could never say some of those things to my kids. Even scientifically.

With all this outside influence raining down on my children, I would think that I'd be pretty stressed out and anxious. In actuality, I'm not really worried. I know my girls are getting love and good attention at home. More importantly, I feel like they know what they can talk to us about things without getting a crazy, negative reaction. I try really hard as a parent not to qualify things for them. For example, Maia asked if sexy was a bad word. She said that Evelyn had told her it was. If little girls use it to say that's how they want to look, then we as adults qualify that word as being bad. But, if you just look at the word itself, without context, it just means sexually attractive, which is not a terrible thing. Of course, I didn't say all that to Maia. I just said "No, not really."

Anyway, back to the scene of the crime.

The Evidence:

1. The first thing to note is that it's written in chalk. All the girls were playing with chalk on Saturday, it could be any one of them. But why didn't I see it until yesterday? When I left for work I didn't see Evelyn waiting for the bus like she usually does. Maybe she stayed home from school and then wrote it while we were out running errands. I decided to see if she got off the bus after school. She did.

2. It's also important to see that it's written in lowercase letters. That automatically rules out Ruby. Maia is learning her lowercase letters this year, so it could be her. However, a correctly facing lowercase "b" is not consistent for most kindergarteners... still I won't rule her out just yet.

When I called Aleks immediately after I discovered the graffiti, he asked if I had talked to Maia about it. Maybe she did write it. Good point.

When the girls got home from school, I let them watch TV and just as I get them situated, the doorbell rang. It was Evelyn wanting to know if the girls could play. I told her they were busy and that maybe they could play in a bit. Before she left I asked, "Hey Evelyn, did you write that word in front of our house that's scratched out? Bitch?" She looks at me all wide eyed and shakes her head no. "Glad to hear it" I say and then wave goodbye.

A little bit later I ask the girls if they want to take Isabelle for a walk around the block and that we can ask Evelyn if she wants to come. As we're getting ready to leave, I ask Maia, did you write that word in blue in front of our house? Now, I don't actually say the word like I did to Evelyn, and maybe that's a mistake, showing my bias, but hey, I'm human. At least I haven't accused anyone yet, right?

(Actually I took a break from writing to make pizza dough and after seeing my obvious bias written in black and white, I feel pretty guilty. I said a word to another child that I wouldn't say to my own child. I would like to emphasize that the tone in which I questioned Evelyn was very friendly. I could have been asking if she had taken the bus home. But still. Obviously I'm still growing as a human too.)

Maia scooters down to the word to check it out and says no, it was Evelyn. I ask how she knows that and Maia says she knows Evelyn's handwriting. That it was either Evelyn or Ruby because the "writing is kind of crazy."

The four of us, plus Isabelle, head around the block. Pretty soon Hannah joins us. Since I've got all suspected parties with me, I can't help but take advantage of this opportunity.

"Hannah, did you write the letters on our driveway?" She looks puzzled for a minute and then says "oh, no that was Evelyn."

I look at Evelyn and she immediately says "no I didn't!" I said, "I'm going to need to talk to one of your parents."

Evelyn and Hannah ride their scooter and bike back to Evelyn's house as quickly as they can. They ride into the garage, all but run into the house, and close the garage door.

The Verdict:

It's obvious to me that Evelyn did it.

The Sentence:

From the moment I saw the word bitch written on my driveway and suspected Evelyn, I had been trying to figure out how I was going to handle it.

What was obvious to me is that any seven year old who is having a consistent problem with being inappropriate is probably lacking some kind of emotional nurturing. 

As a voice teacher, it is my job to figure out how to get people to change. And through my teaching thus far I've learned that nobody likes to be yelled at or shamed. Feeling humiliated or chastised rarely leads to change.

Honestly, I don't really care if Evelyn has a potty mouth. Swearing is fun. I enjoy it. It adds spice and punctuation to a thought. However, I'm 33, not 7. And I don't swear in front of kids. Maia and Ruby love Evelyn. There are some boundaries that need to be established.

I put the girls in front of the TV again and told them I was going to check the mail.

I crossed the street with my heart pounding and knocked on Evelyn's door. Her dad was sitting on the couch in a darkened living room watching tv while her twin sisters, who are Ruby's age, were playing together. I asked if I could speak to Evelyn and Hannah. Almost immediately the girls appeared and came out onto the porch. They started to close the door, but I kept it open with my hand.

I started by telling the girls that Maia and Ruby really liked them and that I did too. That my girls love playing with them. I said that my girls are much younger than they are. Ruby is just as old as Evelyn's twin sisters and Maia is just 5 years old. I said that it had started becoming apparent that Maia was learning things that were not appropriate for her age, like how to flip someone off. I said that I really wanted to to be able to trust that when the girls all played together that appropriate and kind words were being used. Could they please be sure that this happened? I reiterated that I thought they were good kids and that I hoped they could all play in a way that was appropriate.

At some point during my speech, Evelyn's dad had come to the door. As I was leaving I overheard him say, "Isn't this what we've been talking about?!" I left feeling really sad and empty. So many gray areas.

Thankfully, Maia and Ruby are blissfully unaware of any conflict or sense of discontent. It would be so easy to snatch my kiddos back under my wing and keep them away from all the swear words and people who are hurting and potential danger. But, in the long run, what a disservice that would be to my children. How I hope instead to teach them compassion and love and forgiveness.

There's been lots of talk in our house about being kind and loving. Maia told me the other day she loves, but doesn't like Tyler. She also told me she loves everyone in the world. Ruby told me she loves me the most.

Life is complicated. People are complicated. It's those complications that make life interesting. 

And let's all just try to do our best.