Little m Long a

Getting Zoë to practice her piano is not unlike giving a bath to a cat.  Have you ever tried to put a cat in a bathtub?  In any tub?  Here’s a bit of advice.  They don’t like it.  A cat feels that it’s very own scratchy tongue is sufficient for any cleaning that is necessary and that water is only needed to quench a thirst.  Try to put a cat in a bathtub–someone’s gonna get hurt!

I feel like this most days when trying to get Zoë to complete a piano lesson.  The kid is smart as a whip and reads beautifully, but she refuses to attempt to read music.  She’s content to plow through feeling her way and playing pieces by ear.  Memorizing.  It’s an admirable trait–enviable actually.  I wish I could do it.  But it’s frustrating all the same when it comes to getting her to focus on her lessons.

Zoë’s latest conquest has been Beethoven’s Fur Elise.  She is nowhere near ready to perform the piece, but I am amazed at how much progress she had made without having looked at the music. Her piano teacher has been helping her during her weekly lessons and will scribble notes on a blank piece of sheet music but for the life of me I can’t decipher any of it.

Well, this week I pulled out the video camera to try and entice Zoë to work harder.  This is where we are.  I think we should start with trying to figure out the actual name of the song…

As you can see, there’s plenty of work to be done!  At least she’s having fun.

There are two schools of thought on the whole let your kids win thing.  One states that you should never let them win.  They should have to earn it just as in real life.  It builds confidence, strength, character and a greater appreciation of the victory.  The other school of thought is to toss in the towel, let your kids win every once in a while.  It builds confidence, strength, character and a greater appreciation of the victory.  I’m torn on the whole issue.  While I’m all for winning and building up of a child’s confidence, I also believe that losing builds just as much confidence and strength of character.  It takes a lot to come in second or third.  I’m an also ran, always have been.  As our local paper would recount our high school track and swim meets listing top finishers in each race, they also had the kindness to publish the names of all of the competitors in each race–the also rans.  That was me.  I never recall making it out of the also ran column.  It’s easy to be a winner, but you know what?  Not everyone gets to be that person.  Every race or competition is filled with also rans.

Some of you may recall how last week I was forced to find new and creative ways to get Zoë to practice her piano lessons.  She’s done much better and practices are enjoyable once again.  An overwhelming number of those who commented (thanks Dan and Jen) asked about the actual sound bites that accompany my demoralizing.  Sadly, I was unprepared that day.  I did, however, put in minutes of practice this past week and challenged Zoë to another duel.  A showdown.

Stagnant.  Stalled.  Halted. At an impasse.  Distracted.  Amotivated.  Indifferent.  She just won’t do it!  I don’t want to.  I’m not going to!  These are just a few of the words or phrases that I could use to describe the current state of Zoë’s piano lessons.  It would appear that as the temperatures rise outside her willingness to apply energy towards practice inversely falls.  Two weeks in a row she has failed to meet her contracted practice commitment of 90 minutes.  (That’s a week people, not a day!)  My frustration level is at an all time high. 

Pressed for solutions, I expressed my concerns to my wife.  Make it fun she said, otherwise she’s going to hate it and we’ll lose her forever.  No easy task, mind you because right now, I’m not having fun.  I’m still looking for ideas (begging really.)  But this is what we did today and she really seemed to have fun…..again.

A little contest Zoë.  You pick the song.  I play it first, then you play it.  We’ll see who can play it better.  OK?

Well, OK, Dad…..You are so going to lose!

(Disclaimer:  It should be noted at this point that the extent of my piano knowledge and playing ability spans the exact amount of time that Zoë has been taking lessons.) Catwalk was the first selection.  I thought I had done a decent job.  She smiled at me and played it better.

Dalmations, she  called next.  Again, I thought my effort was decent, worthy of competition.  When I had finished she asked if that was my warm-up and was I ready to play it for real.  Again, she played it better.  I love you, Daddy.

Just call the next song!

Creepy Crocodile.  She openly laughed at me before I had finished.  Dad, are you really trying she said mocking me as I wiped the sweat from my brow and discretely a tear from my eye.  She played it better.  I was being handed my hat by a seven year old.

And so it went.  Long, Long Ago.  Better.  Claire de Lune.  Better.  I didn’t even try Chant Arabe or Allegretto I.  But she did and performed beautifully.  I was demoralized.  I thought I could get one better, just one.  One of the easy ones.  BUT NO!  The kid pummeled me.  You know what, though.  She practiced.  And she had fun. 

Who’s playing who now, you little imp?!