When I was in elementary school, maybe 5th grade, I decided I wanted to play an instrument. Edgewood Highlands had a small band, and you could rent instruments during the year. After careful consideration I picked the clarinet. I wanted to try something I thought was challenging, and I hoped that later on I'd be able to play the saxophone too. Clarinets are a good precursor to that. As I started out I thought it was a lot of fun, but I had a pretty rough time of it. Clarinets are a reed instrument, and I just couldn't get much sound of it, no matter how hard I tried. I'd practice during Band time and at home, but it didn't matter, I was hopeless. I wanted the teacher to help me, to pull me aside. I'd ask questions, but he just didn't have the time for that. I probably should have done individual lessons at a music store, but I never thought to ask. Then one day, the teacher did pull me aside. What he said crushed me. He told me that after 3 months, I just wasn't cut out for the clarinet and that I should quit. Maybe there was another instrument I would like to try, but I could no longer play the clarinet in class. I ran home in tears, and then I got sullen, deciding that there was no other instrument I wanted to play, and that that was that. I was done. I never did learn an instrument.
Today, I have two boys that play the piano. Zachary is pretty good, but I wish he would practice a little more. He is teaching Alex and they have their ups and downs, but it's working.
Sports is more my issue for today. When Zachary was in first grade he decided he'd like to try and take tennis lessons. We were living in Connecticut and signed him up at a gym about 35 minutes from our home. Every Tuesday we'd make the journey, and Zachary would enjoy himself, making friends and socializing, but not playing much tennis. Gyms can be very expensive, so after that session we decided to stop. We'd try later we said. Never say that though, because it always takes forever to get to "later".
Finally, this year, 7 years later, we found a place in Minneapolis that provides free tennis lessons for 25 weeks during the school year. The teachers are all very professional, and it's a great opportunity. As soon as I told Zachary about it, he was psyched. Since I'd be taking Zachary, I automatically assumed that I'd take Alex too. He, however, was not excited about it, and tried to get out of it. I'm the kind of Mom however, who if you try to get out of something, you're probably going to end up doing it anyway. So, the three of us have been driving there this fall and winter. Alex was placed on Court 6 because he was a beginner, and Zachary was put on Court 7 because he is older and has had a little experience. As we've gone on these last few months it's become clear that Zachary may not be cut out for tennis, while Alex has a burgeoning new hobby and maybe more. About 2 months in, Alex was promoted to Court 7, and Zachary was glad to see him, but I think he was a little jealous. Sibling rivalry. Well, today, Zachary was demoted to Court 6, and he was just miserable. I felt so bad for him. He really has tried, but he just doesn't connect with the ball. This new court may be better for him, help him learn the basics.
I was proud of him though because he didn't want to quit. He told me that his goal now is to "kick butt" on number 6 so he can get back to number 7 as soon as possible. He even said they were probably right to put him there. They always say there - persevere- "one more time, forever". It's so hard though to sit on the sidelines and watch, not being able to help. As a homeschooling mom, I'm used to having some say, but not here. I took him out for a milkshake afterwards and told him I loved him "no matter what court you're on". Just another remainder that they're getting older and will have to face the world soon enough. Sigh...
