Off the Pan, Into the Fire

My journey through the realm of raising our sons...

Friday, March 25, 2016

Targeting

Years, decades ago, I was befriended by the parents of a girlfriend. More so with her dad. Well, maybe friends, it's hard to say. I was a high school kid dating his daughter, maybe he was just keeping a close eye on me...

One day we were in the garage, doing what, I don't remember. But I do remember having a comical discussion about birds. It started when one of their freshly washed cars had been splattered with a large, grotesque drop of bird shit. He shared his theory that birds don't just drop their loads, they aim. Maybe it was just a game among birds, maybe it was just an innate need to hit things, but just the same, they aimed.

A bit later we walked out of the garage, he got partway down the driveway when bird shit landed on his shoulder. He looked at me, pointed at the fresh dripping goo on his shoulder and emphatically stated, "See?"

How could I argue with that?

He wasn't the only girlfriend's parent that befriended me over the years. They all did a decent job of staying out of my relationship with their respective daughters. Those men, and a few women, attempted to share their wisdom, and some BS. For all that, I'm grateful.


Saturday, March 12, 2016

I never wanted to play

Galen plays the double bass. He enjoys the concerts and recitals. Practice, not so much. Students are asked to practice 100 minutes a week, or about 15 minutes per day. There are days that this young man fights, resists, argues, anything to get out of practice. The reasons are usually the same, either he's bored with the music, too busy with something else, or just not in the mood.

Lately I've tied bass practice to an activity he values highly, computer time. He's not allowed PC time until he completes his bass practice. I don't yell, I don't fight, I simply ask, "have you practiced your bass yet?" On a good day he sighs, and practices. On a bad day he acts out as mentioned before; fights, resists, argues, anything else to get out of practice.

I wouldn't be so firm if he performed as well as he thinks he performs. Within a few minutes of listening, anyone can to tell he's not perfected some of the simpler techniques. He wants more complex, harder musical scores. He's bored with the simple, but he can't get simple out without a few mistakes. I don't expect perfection from him, but I do expect him to try his best, and he's not there.

One of his most frequent arguments against practice is the declaration, "I never wanted to play." Hogwash. He brought the bass to our attention. I get to remind him that it was he that wanted to play the bass, it was he that attended orchestra Q&A, and it was he that said he'd follow the practice schedule. It's a matter of reminding him that he made a promise to practice.

Promise don't always come true. Most of them require more than a statement, they require work. Dedication. Commitment. Promises are fleeting, but a promise backed by commitment just might come true. The old adage, there's no such thing as a free lunch," holds true for promises.

I know this is a difficult concept for an eleven-year-old, it's something we all struggle with. Promises are broken every day. Galen stepping back from this promise will probably result in nothing more than him being a mediocre bass player. But in many ways, this is also the most horrible of outcomes. I don't want my children falling short of what they can do, or be.

Learning that work, effort, and commitment can make lead to great achievements is powerful. And one that, if learned now, will enable so much for his future.