Two Words: Nap and Sleepover

These are two words that give me a ray of hope today. It's not that today is bad, necessarily. It's just not a stress-free Friday like I'd hoped for.

Caroline's home with me today (which is typical). We're still not getting the hang of potty-training (again, typical). I've been on the phone some (so very typical). And, I can't seem to get things done with "two extra hands" (yep - you guessed it - typical!)

Honestly, I don't know how mothers of multiple kids (That's YOU, chick) handle two, three, or even FIVE four-year olds at once. They are a handfull by themselves -- let alone in a pack. . .or gang.

Anyway, I'm hoping that she'll take a nap. She's in bed right now. I have to be optimistic and look at it and declare that even if she doesn't take a nap -- she's contained. In the meantime, I have clothes to wash -- wet training pants (oy) and the like. Then, once I get Edison home from school, he's going to a sleepover.

That's right. You've stumbled upon today's other priceless word: sleepover.

Very little sleeping will be done -- but it will be "over" at his friend's house. (see what I did there?)

Oh, last night's orchestra concert? Let's see. Where would I even begin?

The Flintstones theme song was the highlight for Edison's group. However, they also did the "Surprise Symphony" and as he put it -- they ended together. (I think that was the surprise!)

The high school orchestra played selections from "Phantom of the Opera." I guess "played" would be the proper verb. Although other possibilities would include butchered, massacred, sliced & diced, and of course everyone's favorite: crucified.

That's right. Mark and I, at one point, were handing Caroline pretzel crackers to keep her from talking out loud, and were stifling our laughter (that's right I said laughter) from the rest of the audience that was there to listen to their executioners -- I'm sorry, their children -- play "Music of the Night" and "All I Ask of You."

. . .and the sad fact is that Mark rarely loses it in situations like that. When he started laughing, it was something akin to getting cracked up during a funeral. You know it's totally inappropriate for you (or anyone for that matter) to laugh, but with every fiber of your being -- you cannot help but laugh. Think Seinfeld . . a Pez dispenser. . and a piano recital. That was us.

So. . .yeah. That was the experience we had last night. For a brief minute, I considered taking Mark up on his offer to take the kids, and let me stay home. But I couldn't do that. I may not have musically enjoyed every note I heard last night -- but by cracky -- I'm going to continue to support the arts (loosely defined, of course) whenever I can. And, I know it meant a lot for Edison to have us all there . . .we could tell by the way he scoured the audience until he found us. (Those tender teenage egos)

Now, if I may step on my soapbox for a moment. . .allow me, then I'll close, because I really do have housework to do while my baby girl is jailed.. uh, er, I mean in bed.

I was appalled at the audience last night. (No, I don't mean Mark and me -- although we were deplorable at one point). The students that came to the concert had HORRIBLE manners. But, even more obscene were their parents.

Kids were getting up and walking in and out -- using the FRONT DOORS by the stage -- in the MIDDLE OF A SONG! At one point, a girl was playing a beautiful piano solo. Seriously -- Rachmaninoff. This girl was doing an awesome job. But two students (who had finished their part of the program) came in to the auditorium to "deliver" their performance clothes to their mom (who was sitting in the row in front of me). They walked in -- came all the way down her row -- handed her the clothes. (she didn't bat an eye) She asked them (OUT LOUD) where they were going. They said (again OUT LOUD). . ."I don't know."

And they WALKED BACK OUT OF THE AUDITORIUM.

This precious Korean girl who had worked so hard on her Rachmaninoff piece was still playing. And these two idiot children and their IDIOT mother showed absolutely NO respect to this girl.

Oh, they weren't the only ones. . .there was this family sitting on the FRONT ROW. The "dad" (I assume) kept getting phone calls. Instead of, oh, I don't know, turning OFF HIS PHONE -- he would see that it was ringing (he at least put it on vibrate, I assume) but would ANSWER THE PHONE in the auditorium---then leave out the front side door...have his conversation....and WALK BACK IN THE FRONT SIDE DOOR when he was done.

This happened at least four times.

So what am I to do?

Well, on the one hand, I want to send emails to the two music teachers and express my appreciation. Because I have been where they are. No money. No resources. Limited time with kids to rehearse. Uncaring parents who don't make their kids practice at home. I know. . .I remember.

I want them to know that I appreciate their hard work (even though I've not been the biggest fan of Edison's orchestra teacher). And I also want them to know that it broke my heart every time some rude student/ teacher / parent got up and left -- or came in during the performances. But, sadly, I think they're used to it.

And most likely. . .I'll send them emails.

But I also want to write a letter to the principals of the middle and high schools and encourage them to teach the kids to be more respectful--and to tell the parents when a concert begins that they expect them to set good examples and stay until the bloody thing is over. (Can you see how mad this made me?)

Why am I not going to do that? Two reasons:

1) Edison came into the auditorium to "talk" to me during the concert. I nearly bit his little pointy head off.

and (more embarrassingly)

2) We had to get up and leave the concert early because Caroline was being a little pill.

I suppose we had a better excuse than the parents who left because their kids were done performing. . . but still. A part of me died last night.

Make that two parts -- one was the part that loves Andrew Lloyd Weber, and the other was the part that directs music and has higher expectations.

Sigh. I have dishes to do.