Music to my ears

Abby had her first violin lesson today. I wrote several weeks ago about the violin lesson that wasn't, when we scheduled it and she had such a meltdown on the day of the lesson that I cancelled it. She was too anxious about it and with all the other stressors in her life, I decided I wasn't going to put her through it at that time.

Since then, she's been listening to the Suzuki violin CD (which arrived on the day of the cancelled lesson.) She has been talking more about playing violin over the past two weeks, and even acting out playing the violin, with a violin puzzle-piece from one of Brian's wooden picture-puzzles.

Finally, I agreed yesterday to contact the teacher again. And, bless her heart, the teacher agreed to see Abby today.

When I told Abby this morning, she was initially very happy and excited. She then proceeded to be unable to get dressed because she couldn't decide what to wear, despite two choices, as is our routine every morning. There were many tears for the 45 minutes before we left for school. Finally, in the car on the way, I told her that if we were going to commit to going today, we were not going to call the teacher and cancel at the last minute again. She agreed.

She had a good day in school (making it all the way up the good behavior ladder!) and was fine after school until we started talking about the lesson (she brought it up.) There were more tears and much, much anxiety. It broke my heart to see her like this.

I reminded her that we agreed we were not going to call the teacher to cancel. Through tears and wailing, Abby told me she WANTED to cancel. Somehow I got her to listen long enough to say that we could cancel, but she was going to get in the car with me and go tell the teacher in person.

And then, the actual problem came out: "I don't know what her apartment looks like!"

"Well, Abby," I said, "neither do I. But I bet we can think about some things it will have." This strategy was a tip from a workshop on Executive Function disorders, which Earl attended several weeks ago.

In very short order, Abby was able to decide the apartment probably had a bedroom, a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom ("even though it's gross," she said.) And it was amazing how that knowledge calmed her down.

She wasn't worried about the teacher, or the actual lesson. It was all about a new environment, as it so often is for her.

We found the teacher's house, and Abby was exceedingly polite and calm. She did a great job with some pretty complicated stuff, from identifying the parts of the violin to learning the beginner's bow grip. We ran into a bit of a snag when the teacher put a peppermint life saver on the tip of the bow as Abby was holding it vertically, to test her grip and ability to balance the bow. Actually, that part was fine -- it was just when she offered Abby the life saver afterwards, and Abby wanted to be polite, so she took it, even though she hates peppermint. She ended up spitting it out and rinsing her mouth out with water, and she was fine.

Abby was pleased with herself with the lesson, overall. I was beyond pleased -- so proud of her I could have burst. I want to take her to get a rental violin within the next couple of days so she can practice her bow grip and holding the violin in playing position before we go back for her next lesson in a week.

I was very, very pleased with the teacher, too. She is so calm and quiet -- just the thing for Abby. She was full of encouragement and fun, and allowed Abby to find success at her own pace. I'm looking forward to Abby's next lesson, too.

Several more beautiful words

Abby is on a roll. Last night at dinner, Earl asked her if she needed help cutting something on her plate. Her reply: "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I don't really need you to help me."

I think something has clicked. She's never been concerned about hurting anyone's feelings before. Earl and I exchanged a little glance and he thanked her for telling him so nicely.

This progress is especially gratifying, because Abby's behavior has been extra intense for the past few weeks. Maybe it was the storm before the calm.

The two most beautiful words

Everyone knows the three most beautiful words in the English language. "I love you" is what we all need to hear, and hear it often. But I've discovered another phrase that speaks to me even more these days.

"I'm sorry."

Abby has apologized for yelling, twice in as many days. I don't recall her ever apologizing to anything calmly, sincerely, and without prompting before yesterday.

But there it was: "I'm sorry I yelled."

It wasn't the hurried, panicked, oh-no-I've-really-made-her-mad-now, gasping apology she usually does. It was a few minutes after the incident, and she just looked at me calmly and apologized for behavior she knows is wrong, but can't always control.

So of course, I had to apologize, too, because I yelled back. Both times.

I spend more time being frustrated with Abby's behavior than I do enjoying her. And there's plenty to be frustrated about. But steps like this give me hope.

She had to have thought about the behavior.

She had to have realized it was wrong.

She had to have recognized that it hurt my feelings.

She had to have decided to try to fix the hurt.

Abby is beginning to develop empathy. I couldn't be prouder of her if I tried.

Music lessons article

Here it is, from Saturday's Ledger.

In the eye of the beholder

I was in Stop & Shop with Timmy earlier today, picking up some groceries for the week. The woman ahead of me in the checkout line was eyeing my produce on the belt. Then she gestured toward my cauliflower, turned to me and said in a soft voice tinged with an eastern European accent, "It's beautiful."

Well, cauliflower is a flower. And flowers are beautiful.

Phantom music lessons article

Well, my article about private music lessons is on the front page of the Family section of this weekend's Ledger, but I can't find it online. I'll post the link when it comes up!

Karaoke-dokey

My brother Keith's surprise 30th birthday party last weekend went off without a hitch. That was the reason my sister Chris and I were in Rochester, and it was so much fun. Among other festivities, I tried karaoke for the first time, after serious prodding by Chris. My first selection was "I Will Survive," part of the soundtrack from my childhood. I'd like to think I looked like an American Idol, but I looked like a suburban mom, which I guess is OK because that's what I am.

Chris is a karaoke force to be reckoned with. She owned the room. Besides being a terrific singer, she has such stage presence and charisma. Her "Son of a Preacher Man" was better than the original.

But the highlight of the evening for us was Chris, Keith and I performing the B-52's "Love Shack." So funny. Chris can sing about anything, but I'm all-classical, all-the-time, and the sound might have been a little top-heavy because of it. But Keith nailed his part, and we just about killed ourselves laughing. That's Keith, me (next to the fallout shelter sign) and Chris.

Somehow I don't think this was what Mom had in mind with all those years of music lessons for the three of us.