Since quitting my sewing business and pursuing a writing career, I've been teaching piano lessons to make extra money. Although Doctor Jones (my one-year-old daughter) isn't supposed to be in the room when I teach, sometimes she'll toddle downstairs, hide in the corner and listen. Her big, blue eyes will stare over the side of the couch right before she ducks when I spot her. I always pretend like I just missed her and that's when she giggles. We had a moment like that this week, but after my student left, Doctor Jones started acting funny.
That one-year-old is hilarious and fun. She's short and petite. Her hair is so curly it barely hangs past her hairline although it's actually over five inches long in places. If I could pick one word to describe Doctor Jones, it wouldn't be about her obvious cuteness or her darling personality. Instead, I would pick the word "spicy." She'll face huge four-year-old bullies at the play land. When she met Melynda's dog (from Crazy world), that St. Bernard stood over twice her height. Yet, when the dog turned toward Doctor Jones--his head bigger than hers, his mouth open and tongue pulsing sporadically--she just stomped, glaring at his mouth, and said, "No. NO!"
Anyway, the other day, Doctor Jones, grabbed my hand and then her brother's (the Zombie Elf). She pulled us toward the couch and said sternly, "Sit," as if we were just huge dogs she faced.
We sat and watched as our little doctor tried spreading a blanket in the corner of the room. She put it as nicely as she could. After a moment, a pillow rested in the center--one of my NICE pillows I'd hid--and Doctor Jones delicately placed a toy piano on the pillow.
Now, that piano is hilarious. Grandma Gertie bought it for Ms. Jones awhile back. It has five brightly-colored keys. If you hit even one key, the piano will play a long classical song.
Doctor Jones looked at me and the Zombie Elf. She nodded like that was the height of classiness. Then, she awkwardly sat down on the other side of the piano. "Hi, Ma." She addressed me. "Hi," her eyes turned to the zombie, "Ma," she said again.
She did something as if clearing her sweet baby throat, put her hands toward the fake piano and closed her eyes. That's when she hit one of the keys, only one. She swayed as the music wrapped around us. My Zombie Elf who is normally a wild man, smiled up at me and tried not laughing. "My baby is so funny," he whispered.
"Shhh!" Doctor Jones glared at us and put her finger to her lips as the music continued. She closed her eyes again and the Zombie Elf tried even harder not to laugh.
As I watched Doctor Jones, I couldn't help feeling silly. So, maybe that's what I look like when I play. I've never realized, but my eyes always stay closed while at the piano. I probably sway back and forth while the notes resonate with beauty.
The Zombie Elf snuggled close to me and sucked on his finger (a habit we need to break before he turns four). At the end of the song, Doctor Jones stood on her shaky baby feet and started clapping. The Zombie and I cheered for her, after all, it WAS her first concert.
I couldn't help smiling as I gathered both of my babies into my arms. There are some moments of parenthood that make all the poopies, snot and crying worth it. That concert was one of those moments. I'll never forget the joy as I hugged her and said "good baby." I'll also never forget the Zombie Elf and how much love shone in his eyes. He'd called her 'my baby.'
Who cares that moments later, when I said the Zombie could have a concert of his own, a HUGE fight broke out between the two of them. They played tug-o-war with the piano. Batteries flew everywhere. My NICE pillow almost got ruined. The blanket became an even worse rumpled mess and I had to be the bad guy.
The Zombie Elf did get a concert where I clapped and cheered. But Doctor Jones didn't clap very hard, after all, she was watching from "the pen."
Who cares that the day quickly deteriorated AFTER THAT!
What I'll choose to remember is my baby Schroeder and her brother who was so proud just being in the audience of two. After all, isn't that one of the best things in life, being able to build each other up, so we can all succeed.
That is so SWEET!
ReplyDeleteSeeing ourselves through the eyes of our children. It can be so illuminating! Great story, I really enjoyed it.
ReplyDeleteThat's adorable!! I can only imagine a little girl hiding behind the couch and giggling. I play the piano too and love it.
ReplyDeleteHappy weekend!
She's gonna be a musician, too!!! What precious memories!
ReplyDeleteWhat a special moment! I love moments like that! I don't get them very often with my 8 and 6 year old any more. But I get one usually every day or every other day with my 2 year old. I love and cherish them, as I know you do.
ReplyDeleteI think God gave us these moments so that we wouldn't become black windows and eat our our young and then our mates to prevent any more young. These moments definitely help you get through all those "OTHER" moments when you wonder..."who are you and where did you come from, cause you definitely don't belong to me" moments.
JadeLouise Designs
This made me cry. What a wonderful post. You & Cade did good, really good! Hugs.
ReplyDeleteIt is indeed my friend. if I had to use one word to describe that girl it would be Pixie. She is so darling. Don't get me started on my little Zombie. What a darling! You're a great mom E. Don't ever forget it!
ReplyDeleteAwesome story. Makes me appreciate the (few and far between) moments of sibling peace in my own household even more.
ReplyDeleteSo nice that they could get along and you could enjoy the moment, before all hell broke loose once more..haha
ReplyDeleteThat is the most adorable image! ...and then I laughed over her being in 'the pen'! lol Hold onto those sweet moments!
ReplyDeleteAwww - that actually kind of makes my ovaries ache! What a precious moment for you and your kids. Treasure it always!
ReplyDeleteThose are the moments that some days seem all too few and far between when you have kids. Hold onto them.
ReplyDeleteSo far it looks like The Scribe wants to become an artist, The Hippie wants to fly, & Dr. Jones is looking towards a career as a concert pianist. What do you see for The Zombie Elf in his future? I expect great things from all your kids!
ReplyDeleteMaybe a nudist ROFLMAO!
DeleteDear Elisa,
ReplyDeleteThis story of Dr. Jones and Zombie Elf and you.....and a miniature grand piano.... is so lovely and heartfelt. It touched my heart and that deep center of myself where belief in the goodness of all humankind dwells. What you showed us was love personified in the three of you. Love and tenderness and devotion. Thank you.
Peace.
Those moments are beautiful when they happen. You need to cherish them. And maybe try to catch them on film so that you can remind yourself later that they really can be angels. :) Sorry to hear it turned south.
ReplyDeleteAwww that sounds so cute. She's gonna grow up to be quite the musician!
ReplyDeletePrecious moments are always fleeting. That's what makes them precious. ;)
ReplyDeleteThis was beautiful! :)
What a sweet, sweet moment! I think you have shown your little girl the beauty of music and how it can fill you up. This is a special memory you will always have with you. I guess music runs in your family. :)
ReplyDelete~Jess
http://thesecretdmsfilesoffairdaymorrow.blogspot.com/
What a precious moment! Though rare, I do love it when my cousins snuggle up to me or when they put on a production while on our annual family vacation in July. These are memories to last a lifetime :)
ReplyDeleteLovely. I brought The Hurricane in once for Favorite Young Man's Show and Tell in first grade. He insisted on holding her himself and said, This is my baby.
ReplyDeleteShe's still his baby. She always tells her friends, When my brother gets here he's going to pick me up and hug me.
And he always does. He calls her treenstar.
Love,
J
I was writing "Love,Janie Junebug" when all of a sudden my comment was published. I'm doing better with the new laptop, but we haven't finished learning about each other yet.
ReplyDeleteSuper sweet, and definitely one of those moments that makes it all worthwhile.
ReplyDelete